While serving as a bishop, one cold winter day I visited an elderly couple who lived in a small duplex. The modest home was heated by a small Heatrola, a coal-burning device. As I approached the home, I met the 82-year-old husband. His aged body bent in the driving snow as he gathered a few pieces of wet coal from his meager supply of fuel. I helped him with his burden but made a solemn resolve: "I'm going to do more." I prayed and I pondered as bishops pray and ponder, seeking a solution. Step by step, the inspiration came. In the ward was an unemployed carpenter. He had no fuel for his furnace, but he was too proud to receive help from the welfare program. He needed the fuel to keep his house warm. I suggested to the carpenter a way he could work for the help he received. Would he build a coal shed for a wonderful couple who needed such? "Of course," he replied. Now, where were we to get the materials? I approached the proprietors of a local lumber yard from whom we frequently purchased products. Brother Ashton would know the men. One was named Gibb; one was named George. I said to them on that occasion, "How would you two men like to paint a bright spot on your souls today?"
Not knowing exactly what I meant, they agreed readily. They were invited to donate the lumber and the hardware for the coal shed. Within days the project was completed, and I was invited to inspect the outcome. The coal shed was simply beautiful in its sleek coat and covering of battleship-gray paint. The carpenter, who was a high priest, testified that he had actually felt inspired in building that coal shed. My older friend, with obvious appreciation, stroked the wall of the shed. He pointed out to me the wide door. And then he opened to my view the supply of dry coal, which filled the shed to its capacity. In a voice filled with emotion and in words I shall ever treasure, he said, "Bishop, take a look at the finest coal shed a man ever had." Its beauty was only surpassed by the pride in the builder's heart. And the elderly recipient, he labored each day at the ward chapel, dusting the benches, vacuuming the carpet runners, arranging the hymnbooks. He, too, worked for that which he had received. Once again the welfare plan of the Lord had blessed the lives of His children.