The elevator was crowded with harried people anxious to get to their destinations. My wife and I were pressed against the back wall holding our two-year-old daughter, Stephanie, in our arms. Then the car groaned to a stop on yet another floor en route to the lobby, and everyone sighed at the thought of taking on still another passenger. This time the rider was a very large man in scruffy coveralls. He was covered with dirt and grease from head to toe. In his hand was a heavy tool kit; on his face, an ominous grimace. As he stepped into the elevator, it creaked and dipped slightly under the added 300-plus pounds of weight. His scowl repelled everyone backwards as they made ample way for the invader. The aroma he brought with him was proof that hard physical work had been successfully completed. Everyone fell silent, hoping that the situation would be short-lived.
Then a miracle occurred. Everyone saw it and heard it. Our little Stephanie, in her pink outfit, had taken the workman into her gaze. She looked intently at him. Then, as only a two-year-old can do, she leaned toward him, smiling broadly, and said, with utter sincerity and disarming warmth, “Hi!” The world was suddenly transformed. The victim of her charm was captivated. He broke out into a grin and returned the favor with his own “Hi.” A bond of friendship had been instantly forged between the biggest and smallest of the pack. There was nothing left for all the rest but to join in the celebration. People nodded in cheer. Others echoed the best greetings of the day. Somehow a selection of disparate lives had been united in a holy union of loyalty and friendship—all because a little girl had demonstrated a simple truth: everyone is worthy of our courtesy, respect, and kindness. Did Alma not say, “little children do have words given unto them, which confound the wise and the learned” (Alma 32:23)? Here was a case where the tipping point was one single word spoken by a child. My wife and I shall never forget the lesson in tolerance and human decency taught by our two-year-old. (Richard J. Allen)