Every Sunday growing up, a cheerful old gentleman would come up and shake my hand with a twinkle in his eye, and when I pulled away from the greeting, there was always a candy in my hand. It was charity at its finest; sneaky, simple, and heartwarming.
Bro. Lundy (I can't even remember his first name) embodied the Christlike love for which we are all striving. I don't know a lot about Bro. Lundy's life, but I do think it ha a pretty good amount of roughness. Regardless, I know for sure that he loves his wife, who passed away pretty early in life. He loves his children, even though I think a good number of them were wayward souls. He loves the gospel, so much so that I can't remember really anytimes when he didn't have an investigator that turned into a faithful member of the church becuase he was such a good representative with an unshakeable testimony. And he loves other people. He is always serving, always ready, even really when I feel like he should be the one getting the service he so bounteously gives. Heck, he took time always to get candy for me (and I know at least two other people in the ward) so he could always be ready to offer me a candshake. Of love!
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