spoiled rich kid, depending on your perspective


You reaffirm in me all the things that I already knew about myself. As in, I have no desire to go see the temple lights. Because I’m sure they’re really pretty and stuff, but also traffic and people and the cold nipping at exposed skin, and huffing around with a billion children. One might stay inside and read a book and forego all of the above. But I’m glad you took the kids. And you’re right. Sam’s spoiled rotten. To the core, that one.

And yes! I’ll take the expensive peanut butter! Merry Christmas to me! Also, did you put stickers on it of Jesus and Mary? You didn’t, did you? I know you, Mother. There’s a sticker-less package halfway to South America, and someone’s going to swipe my peanut butter. . .

Listen, I’m low on time today. The internet is horrifically slow here. But. I do have a refrigerator. It’s tiny, but operates. My apartment is actually really nice. The first day I got here, I was like, ‘This is a little sketchy.’ But now I’ve been in other houses, and my apartment is really nice. Really, really nice. Let’s just say that I have a door on my bathroom and a clean bed.

I walk a lot. But it all depends on the day. If we’re running late, which is always, we walk. If we’re really running late, which isn’t quite always, we take a motokar. But we walk all over town. Up and down the streets and I honestly don’t know how far because I don’t really think about it during the day. Surprisingly, and thanks to Grandpa’s generous donation, my feet are perfectly fine with all this walking. I feel so utterly spoiled with my rich-kid, extra support shoes, but goodness. They’re a blessing. No blisters, no aches, legs are fine. Thank you, Grandpa. Thank you, very much.

Laundry is sent to a family in the ward who has a laundry business. Some of the employees aren’t members, so the garments stay with us and get washed in the sink or in a bucket, depending on how lazy we’re feeling that night.

‘Buying groceries’ is a pretty specific phrase, Mother. Mostly we buy eggs and cardboard disguised as a loaf of bread, some yogurt and, if I feel like spending an arm and a leg, some cucumbers. That’s literally about what we have in our fridge on a daily basis. The rest of the time is lunch at the members house, and, if you remember correctly, is the half a field of rice with chicken and potatoes. It’s probably the worst I’ve ever eaten in my life, and I’ve lost a little weight, but only because I walk up and down this city at least once a day.

And I adore writing Joy. I literally get a letter from you, Joy, and Marissa every week.

I want to say more, and I’ve realized some really cool things about the Gospel this week, and I can talk a little better than last week in Spanish, but I have no time and other people to write.

I love you all very much, this gospel is one of love, and I think you’re all generally fantastic.

Oh, also to all the people reading the blog, to all the future missionaries frantically looking for someone in your mission, read Preach my Gospel. Read chapter three and read it again and again and again and again, and you can thank me later.

Love, Hermana Compton


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