While I have never been much of a leader in the church, in the mission I was considered an "expert" at everything. I call this the miracle of the mission. In fact we went beyond experts. Sometimes we felt like rock stars. Wherever we went, strangers noticed our missionary name tags. They always had hugs, kisses and handshakes for us, and sometimes mangos and watermelon. If you've ever had fantasies of being treated like a rock star, serving a mission in Peru is just for you. We were really treated well.
Our mission was filled with miracles. If you've ever had an experience where you felt the spirit so strongly that you didn't want it to end, then you understand what I mean when I say, the spirit was our constant companion. One of the miracles of our mission was when our district president, which is like a stake president in the mission field, asked us to do a pioneer trek. Now I know many of you have been on treks. I've often heard the youth say they wish they could keep the spirit as their constant companion, just like on their trek. Well let me tell you, that's how it is when you serve a mission. You get the spirit as your constant companion, and there's nothing like it!
We started out in the pueblo of Virú, in the tiny branch of Nuevo Chao where I helped run the primary with two other sisters, Lydia and Trinidad. Trinidad taught me a new meaning for the word "terremoto," which is what she called the children sometimes. "Terremoto" means earthquake, and earthquakes are a common occurrence in Peru... just like spirited primary children. Together with our little terremotos we did sharing time, taught lessons, prepared a sacrament meeting program, held activities and a chocolatada party, and I taught all the singing. We loved the traditional songs at Christmas: "Mi burrito sabanero" about riding the wise donkey to Bethlehem, and "Cholito Jesús" about how Jesus was born in the mountains of Peru as a humble Cholito. And the wise men brought gifts of quinoa and chicha. I asked the children, Since the wise men came from the East, where did they come from? From the Andes mountains, of course! Oh, I learned something new!
The day before we went into the MTC, we received a phone call from Peru, from the missionary couple we would replace. They wanted to make sure I knew that I was to teach piano lessons. What? I don't even play the piano! This is another miracle of the mission. Over the two years, I had dozens of students. Many of them now accompany the singing in Sacrament meetings.
One who stands out is Mary. It all started with her dad Brother Quintana who sells sebada. It's a cereal beverage like Postum or Pero, sometimes hot sometimes cold, but usually air temperature. He brews it from toasted grain, then loads it up in big buckets on his bicycle cart. He serves it in little plastic bags with a straw, or in glasses that he washes in a pan of water, also on the cart. One day after he offered us drinks, he asked if he could take piano lessons. I taught Brother Quintana several weeks, and then he confessed that the only reason he wanted piano lessons was so his 12-year-old daughter Mary could learn. So I taught them both, until Brother Quintana admitted he was just too busy. Mary however practiced diligently and was soon playing simplified hymns in church. I loved watching her parents beam with pride. Now she's also playing from the regular hymn book. She's such a shy tiny willow of a girl, it's always a pleasant surprise to see her perform so boldly. I loved to tease Brother Quintana by telling him, "Mary's my best student, but you're my worst!" Another miracle of the mission came from our district president in Virú. Before I realized our "expert" status, he asked me to organize a choir for the District of Virú Conference coming up. Imagine my dismay and fear, as I had absolutely no experience directing music. Since the choir members all seemed to sing their own out of tune version, I decided we'd better sing unison. Things went okay until Elder Rivera started howling like a coyote in the back. I had to turn around and bite my tongue to keep from laughing. They must have thought we were a success though because they kept inviting me back to lead Christmas choirs, more conference choirs, and even primary and youth choirs, and with parts too. At our going away party one of the sisters gave a talk and thanked me for my choirs. She said I was always patient and complimentary, even though everyone knew they sang horribly.
President Monson also says: As you serve, you will build rich eternal memories and friendships. This reminds me of the Pulido family. The young missionaries often asked us to meet with families they were teaching because we could tell them about our family and the special blessings the church has for families.
During our first weeks in the mission, Elder Castillo asked us to meet a family he was teaching. They were so delightful, it was hard to believe they weren't already members. Manuel and Rosalia have two beautiful daughters, Liseth and Maite, ages 16 and 12 when we first met them. Manuel said he had been praying for help to make his marriage and family better. The very next day the missionaries knocked on his door. We tried to stop Elder Castillo from breaking rules to hurry up their baptism, but he was determined since he was about to go home. And he pulled it off the last day of his mission by getting them married on a Saturday. Peruvians don't typically get legally married, so marriage is a step they take before baptism. They were baptized the next day on Sunday. Then Elder Castillo packed his suitcase with his wet baptism clothes inside and left. A year later we went with the Pulidos to be sealed in the Trujillo temple. We taught them the temple lessons, as well as some of the missionary lessons, not to mention pizza lessons and brownie lessons. Rosalia taught me to make cebiche and lomo saltado.
The girls, Maite and Liset along with their cousin Mauricio took piano lessons for a while. They didn't get far, and the lessons always seemed to end with Maite grabbing my phone and taking selfies of us all. She had a talent for selfies, not for playing the piano.
I remember shopping with Rosalia at the temple store. I told her to get her husband's clothes in the same size that Ken wore. She said, "No, my husband's fatter than your husband."
And I said, "No, my husband's fatter than your husband!" In Peru, it's not an insult to call someone fat, or gordo. In fact calling someone gordo is a compliment. However, I still don't like it when my husband call me "Gorda." He insists it means he loves me, but I can think of better ways to say it. In the end it didn't matter who was fatter, because they wouldn't sell us the clothing until Manuel came in person. After the temple sealing, they held a big wedding reception and invited all their family members from near and far. Manuel said it was a missionary tool to teach them all the gospel. Manuel has served in the Virú District presidency, and now he's a branch president. The Pulido family radiates the joy of the gospel in their lives and in their faces. I miss them so much.
President Uchtdorf often quotes from one of my favorite books, The Little Prince, "It is only with the heart that one sees well. What is essential is invisible to the eye." In other words, we need the Holy Spirit to see clearly, and if it comes from the heart, it comes with love. Material possessions matter so little. My impressions of our mission come from my heart, and I hope you can see them through your own hearts. During the month of March, we had the blessing of visiting Cusco and Macchu Picchu with ten of our children including spouses. This is an area of famous ruins that displays the events of third Nephi when Christ visited America. They promise blessings for serving a mission. I made my list of blessings, but this blessing of sharing Peru with our family was so grand it never made my list. It was wonderful.
When we returned home to Trujillo, we stepped out of the airport to find the city devastated by floods. Our pueblo Virú, an hour south, was hit even harder. They had flash floods come down from the mountains seven nights in a row, each time taking out a different part of the pueblo. The main bridge on the Pan American Highway in Virú collapsed, taking several cars and their passengers with it. This halted delivery of food and other supplies for 2 weeks. Children went to bed at night trembling with fear, asking their parents if the water was going to come get them in the night. Adobe houses washed away because adobe mud bricks are water soluble. So about a fourth of the people lost their homes. Neighbors banded together to help one another. Everyone found somewhere to live while they worked on rebuilding. Our church became a temporary shelter. They helped one another with love. They did like Jesus said, "As I have loved you, love one another. This new commandment, love one another. By this shall men know, ye are my disciples. If ye have love, one to another."
The young missionaries in our mission sometimes asked if I was sad about missing our family and grandchildren. I told them we were blessed to have all the missionaries in our mission as grandchildren, and all the church members as family, and that we loved them all.
The gospel is a message of love. We love one another. We share our message that the gospel has been restored in these latter days, and we do it out of love. Jesus said, In as much as ye have done it to the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me. Serving a mission is an act of love too. The irony is we get back more love and more blessings than we give. We get to feel the spirit as a constant companion. We get to have constant answers to our prayers. We get to grow our testimonies. Yes serving a mission is doing the work of the Lord.
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