“Water from My Well,” Ensign, Apr. 1980, 54–55
Water from My Well
It was almost night when my companion, Sister Gabriela Reyes, and I finished our visiting teaching in the town of Las Rosas, Chile. Our thoughts were still centered on Sister Bella Varas, whom we had just visited. Her home radiated a great spirit of reverence and love.
My companion began to speak, very softly. “Before I became a member of the Church, I lived in Las Rosas. Sister Varas was my neighbor. There was a large well on my land from which all of the neighbors used to draw water.
“Near the well I had planted vegetable and flower gardens. I was proud of these gardens. I watched over them and tended them carefully. The children in the neighborhood frequently romped and played around the well, and I was always fearful that they would step on my plants and break them. I often reminded them to be more careful.
“One day, when I returned home from shopping, I found my precious gardens had been trampled. I was furious. Later, when some of the children came to get water, I scolded them severely; and in my fury, I prohibited them and all of my neighbors from using my well. I said I would never allow them to draw water from it again.
“The children left with empty buckets that night. A short while later one of my neighbors called and asked if I would come to her home and explain what happened. As I walked to her home, I thought of all the arguments I could use in my behalf.
“When I arrived at the home of Mrs. Bella Varas, she said, ‘Mrs. Reyes, I have called you here to thank you for the many times you have let us draw water from your well. I am really very grateful.’ She spoke to me in a very kind, loving way, without any tone of rancor or reproach. And to show me her gratitude she gave me a new little pig as a gift.
“I was surprised. I wondered what type of person she could be. I felt suddenly disarmed. All of the arguments I had thought about were unnecessary. Here was a woman who had given me a gift. Although I had prevented her from drawing water from my well and had accused her children of ruining my plants when I was not sure if they were responsible, she was thanking me and presenting me with a gift.
“I had heard that she was a religious person. Was this what made her different?”
“The next day when I went to draw water, I found the well had gone dry. I wept. But the water didn’t come back. I had to go quite a distance to find water, and then I had to ask for it. I was being taught a very difficult lesson.
“After two weeks the water came back, in the same unexplainable way it had left. I promised in my heart that I would never again deny water to anyone. I went to Mrs. Varas’s house and offered her all the water she wanted. We conversed for a while and then I asked her the question that had been on my mind for the last two weeks: ‘What is your religion?’
“‘We are Mormons,’ she said. ‘We belong to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.’
“I had never heard of that religion, but I began to ask questions about it. Finally the missionaries came to our house.
“I was soon baptized, and my husband followed. All of our children accepted the gospel. And since then our lives have been changing. It is wonderful how we have progressed. The hardest thing for me to do is to control my temper. It is still hard, but I have learned a great deal about self-control. I have been able to better teach my children and draw nearer to them. Not too long ago I was called to be a teacher in junior Sunday School. I feel valuable because I too can help others.
“I have great joy in being a visiting teacher—and visiting the person who taught me the greatest lesson in my life.”
On the dusty road in that small town of Las Rosas, two visiting teachers stopped for a moment, nearly overcome with love for the gospel, for fellowmen, and for each other.
Illustrated by Scott Snow