Everyone thought Daniel would make an excellent ministerial servant.
He gave thoughtful comments, handled his responsibilities well, and was always neatly dressed. When something needed organizing, Daniel was usually nearby. Secretly, he hoped the elders noticed.
One rainy evening, Daniel arrived early for the congregation meeting. He was assigned to sound and needed to check the microphones, music, and videos before everyone arrived.
As he entered, he saw Brother Harris struggling in the lobby. At eighty-three, Brother Harris could no longer bend easily. His wet shoelace had come undone, and several muddy footprints trailed behind him.
Daniel glanced toward the sound console. There was much to prepare, and time was passing. Then he looked again at Brother Harris, who was leaning against the wall, visibly embarrassed.
“I seem to be coming apart tonight,” the older brother said with a weak smile.
Daniel knelt on the wet floor and tied his shoe.
While he was there, he noticed that Brother Harris’s trousers were soaked around the ankles. Daniel found a towel, dried the floor, and wiped the mud from the brother’s shoes. Then he slowly helped him to his seat.
When Daniel finally reached the sound console, another brother was already helping check the microphones. Together, they finished preparing the music and videos just before the meeting began. No one knew why Daniel had been delayed.
After the meeting, Sister Harris approached him near the door. Her eyes were moist.
“My husband almost stayed home tonight and watched the meeting on Zoom,” she said. “Since his health declined, he feels that he has become a burden. But when you knelt beside him, you didn’t make him feel like a burden. You made him feel loved.”
Daniel could think of nothing to say.
Later, after nearly everyone had left, he noticed more muddy water near the entrance. He found a mop and began cleaning it. There was no audience now, no important responsibility to fulfill, and no one whose approval he could win.
Brother Harris paused at the door and watched him.
“You know, Daniel,” he said quietly, “people may never notice when the microphones work or when every video starts on time. But they will remember the brother who noticed them—and was willing to kneel.”
After Brother Harris’s words, Daniel thought about the microphones, the music, and the videos he carefully tested before each meeting. Those things were necessary, and he was willing to do them. But now he understood what should motivate him.
His love for Jehovah moved him to love his brothers and sisters—and that love made every task important, whether he was standing at the sound console or kneeling beside someone who needed him.