Buckle down, everyone. This is the longest letter I've written in
quite some time.....
Feliz cinco de Mayo! Hope everyone has some sort of fun, no-alcohol
related activity planned for today. As for us? We're going to the
citttayyyy. One thing I've learned out here about the culture,
Mexicans don't actually celebrate it. Well, the real ones at least.
This week was great! It's crazy how fast they're starting to go!! I
had completely forgotten that next week is Mother's Day, implying that
I'll be able to talk to my FANTASTIC mother! BONUSSSS!!....where did
the last few months go, btw?!
It seems like we've been doing more and more service as of lately,
which is the best! The family that we helped move last week, la
familia Villalobos, invited us over again last Tuesday. We helped a
little more and shared a message. They mentioned how they've always
been impressed with la familia Bustamante, the members who lived above
them, and as a result, have really good feelings towards the church.
The whole family wants to be taught now! Woohoo!
Wednesday, we met our new neighbors that are moving in downstairs.
It's actually two people who are opening up a community space/center
kinda thing. Did I mention we live above what was an empty business?
Anyway, we didn't actually meet them. More like, we smelt their
marijuana, heard the rock music, and knew someone was down there.
Sighhhhhh. Point is. We met them for realsy the next day. Became like
best friends. Saturday, we spent a few good afternoon hours helping
them paint and clean things up. The lady, who is half Cuban and half
Puerto Rican, wants us to teach her, her grandpa, mom, and sister, who
live down the road. The friend? Half polish and half Puerto
Rican...weird Chicago mix...he wants to read the Book of Mormon
because he's heard so much about it (mostly from the Book of Mormon
musical...but it's a start, right) Score!
We were talking with the other Hermanas yesterday morning on our way
to church, about their sketch investigators and how they listened
once, maybe twice, and then how they never see them again. Not saying
that we have perfect investigators...but there's a distinguishable
difference between people who were randomly served and THEN taught,
against those who were knocked into. Does that make sense? H. Ramirez
and I were talking about how the vast majority of our teaching pool
has come from 1. serving random people, like the new neighbors
downstairs- 2. serving our members, when they happen to be a part
member family-- or 3. when we have asked our members who they know we
can serve, like the Bustamantes neighbors, the Villalobos. One thing a
friend pointed out to me awhile back is how Christ always blessed or
served, and then taught....and what a huge difference that made! You
know what this means. GO SERVE SOMEONE!! Anddddddd, start volunteering
your missionaries to help your neighbors or whoever. If there's one
thing to help open hearts, it's service.
As for the food log. Had the hands down worst thing of my mission.
Technically, I had partaken of this dish once before....just a little
bite, almost died, and threw the food on Hermana Deleons plate as soon
as the other Hermana walked out. SHOUT OUT TO HERMANA DELEON FOR BEING THE BEST SPORT....and happening to LOVE all food. Literally,
everything. Anyway, chicharrones. That's what it was. Not the fried
chip things you buy. No. Pig skin cut up in a green salsa. Not fried.
No taste. Just fatty textured grossness. Hermana Ramirez and I walked
in (mind you, this kind Hermana has made some of the best food I've
had in my mission...talented lady for sure!!), I saw what was awaiting
me on the plate. Ramirez gave me the perfect look saying, 'I'm sooooo
sorry you have to eat this'. So we start eating. I did a half decent
job of masking it at first with a little mixture of tortilla, beans
and rice. After a few mouths full of meat and swallowing it whole. I
was done. Next thing I know, my gag senses go out the window, and I'm
half gagging on the food. Luckily, the Hermana was yelling at her
grandson and didn't notice. I figured at this point that it would be
more acceptable to have a half uneaten plate of food, rather than me
throwing it up at the table. So I stopped. For anyone who has been in
a similar situation, knows the terror that can come when the Hermana
asks why you didn't finish it, and why you don't love her food.
Sighhhh. Luckily, I have a native companion, which makes everything
better. She may have had over exaggerated how much I had eaten prior
to that for lunch, and therefore wasn't able to complete my plate of
chicharrones. I was forgiven, and now, all is well.
#eatingwiththemagainonWednesday.
Also. Tried what is supposedly called the best hot dog in America...or
something like that. Jane and Jude's. It was pretty good :)
One last thing. Stumbled upon this gem this morning during my study.
Found it fitting :)
“… Never, never underestimate the spiritual value of doing temporal
things well for those whom you serve.… Be their servants, and you will
love them. And they will feel your love. And more important, they will
feel God’s love” --President Henry B. Eyring
Much love,
Hermana Mortensen
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