I make dinner every night and Aurora climbs up to her spot at the table when I say that dinner’s ready. She is getting more talkative and grown up. Last night, Nathan stepped on a pen or pencil and fell on the floor, accompanied by loud yelling/grunting. Sam mimicked the yell and it was so funny. I laughed and said,’Sam, that was a great Nathan impression. You almost nailed it.” Then Joy said, “Yeah, if only you had fallen down, bugged your eyes out, and made weird noises, you would’ve nailed it.” So true.
Tonight, I made peanut butter cookies and Sam told his friend, Christian, “Oh, my mom makes the BEST peanut butter cookies! You have to try them!” This made me feel warm and fuzzy. 🙂 I made homemade spelt bread on Sunday, which we ate with butter, while it was hot out of the oven, and I got pretty much the same reaction from Sam. He thinks I’m the best cook in the world. Yesterday, when I got home from work, I opened the garage door and before I could get in the house, Nathan came outside to ask what was for dinner. So he approves, too. That’s one advantage to living on a tighter budget–I cook dinner every single night. And it’s very good stuff.
What address should I send you a package to? And what will your address be when you leave the MTC? When is your last day? SIster Gonzalez is already asking me what your address will be after you leave the MTC. And Sister _________ brought over a package for me to send to you. It’s nothing but peanut butter. Like 6 containers. Did you tell her it was your favorite? Or that it’s in short supply in Peru? She also included a very nice card.
Letter from Melody:
Everyone in my district thinks the six containers of peanut butter is hilarious. It’s not so much as in short supply, but just expensive. It’ll probably be even more so in Iquitos. You should sent it to the Iquitos mission address, because I don’t know where I’ll be serving yet. You have that, right? It’s too late to be sending stuff to the CCM now.
Also, the food here’s okay, but I would commit petty crimes to get a full homemade meal with peanut butter cookies. Also. Sam and Aurora. I miss them.
Onward to the journal for updates on what’s happened the last couple of weeks, yes?
Day 20, October 29
I swear, Mother. I’ve never fallen asleep in so many places in my life.
I can fall asleep in class, during devotionals, under tables, in the middle of fields, against walls, at computers.
And I’m getting my eight hours of sleep and everything, and I try with all my might not to fall asleep, but my eyes roll into the back of my head anyway.
Day 24, November 2
Off to teach out in the city again. Trying to decide if I have enough wits about me to communicate in the Spanish language.
Pray for me, whoever’s out there.
Later Saturday Night
Today was an interesting day. Last time we went out teaching, it went really well.
Today was a lot harder. I got paired with a girl that speaks less Spanish than I do, which is not a great start. My spanish’s pretty dismal, guys.
Anyway, we couldn’t get in any doors, and not very many people were all that interested in discyphering our attempts at Castillano. But when heading back to meet up with everyone else and go home, we stopped by a less active member’s house. She came out onto the porch, but wasn’t interested in letting us inside. The members helping us out quickly introduced us, and then figuratively shoved us under the bus. I started–very slowly, very badly–explaining why prayer was important, and that it’s a literal conversation with God, and that he’s always, always happy to hear from her, but I just stopped and stared at this shivering, aging woman, and I could feel how very missed this woman was. I could feel it, and I wanted to tell her how much God missed her, but the words weren’t there. There was nothing, and so I had to let my companion take over while I subdued some tears.
After I collected myself a little, I gave her a folleto and told her that the church would always be here, that it was here for her.
I just. . . wish I could have been able to say those words, because I could feel them, right in my chest, in my lungs, just for her.
Day 26 November 4, A Monday
I’ve been thinking about Faith this week, and how it’s not just a belief in something, but an action word. I believe, therefore I do. And I’m thinking about how our church is one of action, and what that means for me.
My perspective on prayers has also changed, and is still changing. I understood that it was direct communication with Heavenly Father, and that that’s really important, but I think I’m just glimpsing the raw power calling upon Heavenly Father in the name of his Son has.
I am, in the moment, grateful. Very grateful, and a little sad. Bittersweet?
. . . I think I must go in search of hugs from mi hermanas .
Showers are still a game of molten vs. arctic. Not sure which extreme is preferred.
I also suspect I’m going to come home a new ethnicity altogether. New language, new skin color. I’m already a few shades darker. I literally have a classes tan.
‘I only play hop scotch in graveyards.’ E. Neilson
‘My greatest fear in life is hotdogs. You think I’m joking. I’m not.’ H. Florian
‘I need a tapeworm. That’d be great! It’d be like a pet inside of me.’ E. Lamaroux
‘If you had a tapeworm inside of you. . . would it have the Priesthood?’ E. Nielson
‘I need more natural disasters in my life.’ E. L.
‘The reason the world has problems is because all the angels in the world are busy stopping traffic accidents in Peru.’ E. Nielson
‘One time I got a tattoo. . . then it washed off.’
‘I don’t get offended. I offend.’
Today, November the eleventh, 2013
Today in the Temple there was a flock of adoring, adorable little Peruvian women. They sat there for a solid half hour and told us how amazing they thought we were, and how adorable, and how grateful they were for the work we were doing. They then gave us all at least one hug, if not two, and let me tell you something. Peruvian hugs are the best. They just gather you up in their arms, and they hold you there for several seconds. The cheeks go together, side by side, because that’s a thing here, and there’s just such comfort in being hugged by a Peruvian woman. It was definitely the better part of my day.
Anyway, I love you all.
Until next week.