In a recurring dream that leaves the dreamer feeling powerless, a giant wave surges inland as frantic parents hand their beloved children to people in a train car up on a trestle. Surely they will be safe in the train that is higher than the surrounding landscape.
Then the train, now filled with scores of children and adults — some 1,500 of them — is knocked off its tracks. It tumbles over and over by the giant wave, killing everyone on board.
The dream is based in reality: the 2004 tsunami that hit Southeast Asia took out this train in Sri Lanka. The dreamer is Sharon Eubank, global humanitarian leader for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Visiting the area five months after the tsunami hit, Eubank was overwhelmed with feelings of helplessness as she met families camping by the emptied-out hull of a train car.
Her driver, Shanthe, did not hesitate to act. He could not build new houses or feed the hundreds of people in the informal tent community, but he could kick around a soccer ball with surviving children. So that is what he did.
She shares that story along with 91 others in her new book, “Doing Small Things With Great Love: How Everyday Humanitarians Are Changing the World.”
In sharing the story of Shanthe kicking the soccer ball and talking to the residents of the makeshift village, Eubank writes that she recognized something she had never understood before: You are most powerful where you live. That is the first of 12 principles that guide her humanitarian efforts.
She goes on to explain that help from the outside, as welcome as it may be, is never going to be as powerful as help from within the community itself. The people who live in the community where they serve speak the language, know the culture and history, and understand the unspoken underpinnings of communities that outsiders typically miss. The local community is also essential for sustainable, lasting change.
Replenishing
I had the opportunity recently to interview Sharon for KSL’s Inside Sources. Our community has been reeling from the murder of Charlie Kirk on the campus of Utah Valley University. His killing came on the heels of the murders of two Tremonton police officers and what feels like a string of heavy, sad news stories. I think most, if not all of us, are feeling the weight of it all.
I asked her to share what she learned about “replenishing,” a topic she writes about toward the end of the book. She said that we don’t ever mind that we need to plug in our phones or put gas in our cars, because we need to replenish or recharge them. The same thing applies to us. We need to find those opportunities to replenish and recharge ourselves.
Service can also be a balm. “When we choose to serve,” she told us, “when we connect with an issue that is important to us, instead of being a chore, it becomes a blessing. It’s good for our mental health and it’s good for our communities.”
She also shared on the radio and in her book that as we serve, we also benefit. “True help,” she writes, “is an exchange” that recognizes not only the dignity in all human beings but also that we all are poor in some ways and we all have things to offer.
Service is meant to be fun
While I loved the entire book, I particularly enjoyed Eubank’s stories of Gustavo, a colleague of hers, who livened up every room he entered. As she described the way he would enter a room and immediately liven it up, it reminded me of Tim Allen’s character in “The Santa Clause 2,” who goes to a very boring company Christmas party and immediately turns it into a real party. Even in his final days, Gustavo was bringing humor and fun to his family and friends. He died in 2022.
Eubank reminded her readers about Robert Putnam, who wrote a book in 2000 called “Bowling Alone” about the power of clubs and community because of its strong correlation to “creating trust and positive social capital.” After the passage of a number of years, he has added a caveat: “It’s got to be fun. I mean, building social capital is not like castor oil — ‘you’ve got to take it because it’s good for you, even though it feels awful.’ It ought to be fun.”
At the end of her book, Eubank lists 50 ideas that “everyday humanitarians” (that’s all of us) can do to get started. One of those suggestions was “Smile from your liver.” It turns out that was a Gustavo-ism too. She explained that he would tell her that “You can smile with your face — anybody can do that. But when you smile in your liver, your whole body is smiling.”
In addition to the 50 ideas she lists, Eubank also recommends checking out JustServe.org for ideas on what your community needs right now.
She ends her book with a plea: “Share what you are doing. Contribute your own unique, quirky brand of goodness to the collective whole.”