This week has been pretty normal,
I suppose, as the proselytizing goes. We haven't been able to catch
Marcos and Elba in their house, but we got one lesson with Mariana. We
made another two hundred street contacts, as usual, and I'm really happy
we have the ability to talk with so many people.
The
best experiences this week were the little kind acts that Elder Luque
and I managed to do, including giving a bit of money to a homeless man
one day, a pack of crackers and a soda to another on another day, and
helping an old frail woman to cross the street safely. In those times,
it was most gratifying when we didn't even preach our religion to them,
but we simply helped them and left with smiles all around - that way, I
don't feel like just a walking advertisement of the Church; I'm doing it
because I want to help, and because of my love for God and for my
neighbor, not solely for my religion. Another time, Elder Luque began to
help another old frail woman with her little cart (people here often
use little containers with wheels for their store runs; it's almost like
a backpacking pack, but smaller and with wheels) and we walked with her
for many blocks, nearly returning to the pensión from the other side of
the freeway. She was a catholic and didn't want to hear our message,
but she accepted our help with so much gratitude, and it made me feel
wonderful. We told her we can help with anything she needs, for moving
furniture or whatever, and left her with our number at her request. This
was a good week.
I also remembered an
experience from my young youth (more or less seven years old, I think)
that is a wonderful example to me, now that I remember it. It was in the
birthday party of one of my siblings (maybe Aileen), and we had
confetti balloons that we were going to pop in celebration. We, being
many children, did not often get balloons, let alone CONFETTI BALLOONS, so it was extremely exciting for me in my cute little mind. We all
carefully held our pins, awaiting anxiously the moment to pop the
balloons together. Mom gave the signal, and the others popped their
balloons; for some reason, I waited, perhaps to see the show for a
second before popping my own. In my moment of hesitation, Jacob (the
little punk (he was little at that time, anyway)) looked over and in his
excitement popped mine as well. I. Was. Devastated. I went crying to
Mom, and she tried to console me, but to no avail. Then Aileen (I think
it was her - if it was, and it was her birthday as well, kudos to her
because what she did was cool) came over to me and handed me her
balloon, also unpopped and whole. Mom thanked her so gratefully, and I,
with so much childish relief and gusto, destroyed that sucker with my
pin. Now that I am older, I see the value in that lesson, and it
instantly brings to mind the words of Christ to the Nephites: "And
blessed are all the peacemakers, for they shall be called the children
of God" (3 Nephi 12:9). Thank you, Aileen, for your good example to me.
(I hope I remember correctly that it was Aileen. If not,
congratulations! You get free credit for it, sistah!)
Don't worry, Jacob, I forgive you.
With lots of love,
Elder Hill
Fotos:
- La Luna y Venus pero no pude sostener la cámara bien; me gusta el resultado
- Vista desde el balcón de nuestra pensión
- Para vos, Shirley
- Intercambios en Santa Ana con Élder Christensen; sí esa pintura tiene un extraterrestre junto a Jesús. ¿Por qué? No sé. Y también la bandera estadounidense.
No comments:
Post a Comment