Had Gary heeded his mother's advice — certainly a practice that had paid dividends throughout his life — he would not have stopped.

But Mom, he was sure, would understand.

Because Gary felt prompted by the Spirit.

To be sure, it still was not an easy decision. It was late, dark and cold. Nothing short of an unequivocal spiritual nudge could have led Gary to help that wandering pedestrian. But, with a prayer in his heart — answered because of his own spiritual preparation — Gary responded.

Good thing he did. The wanderer, it turned out, was disoriented. He didn't know who or where he was or where he was going. And, though there wasn't much fun in rendering the help — Gary was still a little concerned for his own safety — Gary did what he knew was right.

Once he helped the wanderer safely into the car, Gary tried to determine where his passenger lived. Trouble was, the man didn't know — or couldn't remember. In fact, all the wanderer could remember was that he lived near a restaurant. So Gary drove to the nearest restaurant. Then, again because he just sort of felt it would be a good thing to do, he turned into a nearby residential area. Almost immediately, the passenger saw something familiar.

"This is my neighborhood," he asserted. Hopeful, but still doubtful, Gary inched along the suburban street. A minute or two later, the passenger recognized his house.

Gary was amazed — and relieved.

The passenger got out of the car and walked to the front door. Gary watched. The man struggled to open the door, and failed — and lay down on the porch.

It was December. Overnight temperatures would drop far enough below freezing that the man was in danger.

Gary got out of his car, walked to the porch, helped the man to his feet, and found the house keys. Once Gary opened the door, the man walked in and disappeared down the hall. Gary threw the keys onto the living room floor, closed the door and left.

That was it.

Gary might well have saved the man's life. But the man probably doesn't even remember. And if he did, he surely doesn't know who saved his life.

For his part, Gary was unconcerned. He was glad to have helped, and didn't expect a medal.

But the incident did get him thinking — about how we, in our sojourn on earth, are not unlike the wanderer.

Arriving on earth with no memory of our previous life, we are, without Providential direction, disoriented and in need of help. Just like the wanderer, we don't know who or where we are, or where we are going.

With a little help, the wanderer, though disoriented, eventually recognized his neighborhood and even his home. As mankind wanders on Earth, he is frequently touched by the feeling that, somewhere inside, he really knows more than he realizes. Taught by others, he realizes that the feelings are true. Taking the courage to pursue that truth, he gains more light. Applying the principles to which the light leads, man will eventually return home to God.

But just as our wanderer, without help, never would have made it home, neither will we make it to our heavenly home without not only the Father's plan of Salvation but also the help of others.

In short, an essential element to God's great plan is the opportunity — and the obligation — each has to help, and be helped by, another.

Gratitude, of course, is an equally essential element to a successful journey. The wanderer, possibly through no fault of his own, was certainly lacking there. But that will be to his, not Gary's, detriment.

Without a firm belief in a merciful God in Heaven and a knowledge of His plan for us, mortality is overwhelmingly confusing. Even with that knowledge and testimony, the journey remains challenging. Help — both giving and receiving — along the way is essential — for both the giver and the receiver.