November 23, 2010

Children's voices, Oh how sweet; when in innocence and love like the angels up above, they with cheerful hearts and happy faces greet. The playground children are out in droves today, but it's the Las Lomas Eleven I'm talkin' 'bout. Eleven kids, one recent Primary graduate, three teachers, two presidencia, two musica adds up to the sweetest, most loving and innocent angels singing and speaking you can imagine. And I don't mean one-liners rehearsed and prompted, rushed and barely audible. The graduate, my deacon, Helaman, was the announcer, keeping the program moving with a very priesthood demeanor. Three short side benches were turned 90 degrees like a choir loft; the 18 year old director's magic hands cued the singers to rise; the three big back row boys took over and set the pace; BJ raced to keep up; each of the eleven in turn took the pulpit and preached a mini-sermon between numbers; the Primary ladies and one man sang a special number; but two year old Matilda stole the show.
I thought the crowd was going to erupt in a standing ovation when she finished. She is too small to be seen over the pulpit so her mother held her up, and without prompting she launched into some kind of oration I dearly wished to understand. She went on and on, loud and clear, without benefit of notes or help, for several minutes. The gasp was audible and the stir palpable and the spirit powerful and sweet when she finally finished. Our spirit hands were clapping like crazy and we were on our feet fairly cheering in our hearts. Yes, it was a good Reunion Sacramental Primaria Anual. Maybe the best I've ever seen and felt. I think Mattie's message was straight from the pre-existence. “And Father said. . .”

We got lots of participation today. I knew I was to teach the deacons, which means all 5 or 6 of the Aaronic Priesthood, but BJ was not expecting to teach today and had just begun her next week's preparation. When the leaders and 3YW finally arrived they told her it was her day and that they had already had the lesson she was preparing. What to do? Think quickly. I gave a lesson on chastity to one girl two weeks ago; the girl isn't here today; teach it again to the others. Saved! I think she did better the second time around and felt pretty good about the experience. I taught about the power of example, using a flashlight in the pitch dark clerk's room.

The clerks' room is like a bank vault, reinforced concrete, with a 4-inch thick solid door with heavy deadbolts all around and a special 6 inch key in the center of the door. Jorge Sepulveda, our secretaria (clerk, exec., all in one), and I do the diezmos and ofretas (tithes and offerings) in there each week. I think the lesson was understood, followed by a short English lesson. I'm caught between the horns of a dilemma. Our consejero sumo (high council rep) Jorge Contreras forbade me from speaking any more English in the Rama (branch), but el Presidente Cerda tells me to teach the YM English along with the lessons. What's a poor boy to do? I also conducted Sacrament meeting, mostly improvised, without notes except hymn numbers and announcements. Asistencia 63. “Our” two families were there again—one is getting interviewed for callings. It's starting to feel like I am learning something. I also sold 6 more Liahona subscriptions. Anonymous donor, you may have to dig deeper or call for reinforcements. We're lovin' our work in the branch.

In the office, we are getting help in the form of two recovering sick Elders who can't proselyte just yet, but I got a new assignment which takes me out two days a week inspecting apartments with Elder Dorius the other couple missionary guy. This leaves Mom in the office with Sister Dorius. I had a great experience; she'll have to speak for herself. We inspected 6 apartments, one of which is not acceptable and will be closed, one of which was filthy, four were acceptably clean but in need of some stuff, all are furnished with mattresses and folding chairs—not much else, and one sixth floor penthouse with a breathtaking view from every room and the balcony, of the ocean, the Rio Maipo, the ships, three towns on little hills with circular streets—a fantastic panorama for the two sisters who rattle around in its three bedrooms/two baths. The carpet is ratty and the bathroom moldy, but the pensions (apartments) pretty much are all such. “Penthouse” describes the location, not the quality. Elder Dorius thought it was too luxurious for missionaries. I'd let them stay. They are both Latina and have/will never live in such a place before or hence. It just happens to be a tall building on a hill by the ocean. Who can complain?

Pablo and his mother are out again. The girls have brought out a play tent/house painted with Cinderella, Snow White, flowers, rabbits, etc. It's inside the jungle gym where the boys can't bother them, sort of. Boys at play sound different from girls at play. They sing different word-tunes.

Great first cutting of alfalfa, tall and dark green—happy cows live in Chile too. Strawberries at the street market, about 2 lbs for $2US. They won't sell them by the case, have to be weighed. No half-ripe ones either. Potatoes 6 lbs for $2; deep orange juicy 'cots right from the tree; spuds with the dirt still fresh on them, onions like softballs 6 for a mill pesos. Lots of familiar trees: sycamore, tulip poplar, sweet gum, lombardy poplar, weeping willow, eucalyptus, and my all time most hated smelling tree, Russian Olive. As a teen delivering papers, riding my bike through the war surplus student housing at Utah State, streets lined with those foul creations. I hated that. My nose is allergic; they make me sick. We have to walk right through several on the way to the office. Yuck.

We MAY BE walking less. We agreed to buy the embassy man's old but very nice Mazda 626 for a cool 5 grand US. Yes, cars, even old ones, are more pricey here; so is gas. Our expenses are about to double. His California car arrived and he is getting it registered and insured this week. The Mazda is the best we've seen and we can pay with a US check and no Chilean Carnet number. Getting it insured and registered is another issue. It may have to sit at the office for a few weeks until we can. Actually, it may sit at the church every night, because the conceirce says there are NO parking spaces for rent in the building. You can park it on the street across the way. No one will bother it; this is a quiet neighborhood. Maybe—maybe not. We may still have to walk to the office every day. Bummer.

The office elders “sacrificed” their p-day to take us to see it. That meant leaving the mission, driving through the rich east side up into the foothills of the Andes to the fine neighborhood of the car owners. Money climbs the hills in Santiago, too. (He is a young DEA agent here for six years; was also DEA in San Francisco; very familiar with Humboldt County. Ya don't say.) It also meant going right past Appleby's. Later we got hungry and had to eat somewhere, so . . . They didn't seem to mind eating there again-Dutch, or seeing the beautiful car dealers once more. Slow down! Hummers! There's a Maserati! Look at that huge Beamer! Aww it's too Mommy. When I get rich I'm going to have a-----------------. They may be missionaries but they are still kids.

When we pick up the car someone(two or more) will have to “sacrifice” another p-day. Any volunteers? Whoa!, not everyone at once. The mission van will only hold 8. We told President King we wanted to go see it—the people are in his ward—he said OK, but had no idea where these people lived. Just as well. He might have said no, nunca, nada. What happens in Los Condes stays in Los Condes, si? I hope we are not corrupting these poor elders. One said “I want a transfer to this mission.” Dissatisfaction moulders. We will be accountable.

The results of an unscientific survey taken from the Las Lomas church gate during the hour long Primary practice Thursday 5-7pm: Every few minutes I took a count of the people, dogs, cars, and buses visible in the two blocks left, one block ahead, and one block to my right.. dogs—up to 5 at any one time; buses—0 to 3; cars—0 to 4; people—12 to 30, never less, and not for their health; joggers—0 all the time; bicicletas—I forgot to count; strolling guitar players—up to three at a time, with four singers, probably Jehovah's Witnesses. Entertainment—constant and gratis.

Do I have a spiritual thot this week? Sacrifice brings forth the blessings of heaven. We can not give too much. We can never get ahead of God. He always blesses us more than we deserve. We are all beggars, in a good way. He is the giver of all. Ask and ye shall receive. Knock and you'll most likely be told to go away. Doorbells are called rejection buttons. Actually they don't have doorbells; they have fence bells or no bells at all, in which case you holler a greeting, or if you are in Argentina, clap loudly. In any case the result is the same: most baptisms here come this way, but it is a lot of discouraging, or fun, work. Some elders love it; some despise it. Take your pick. It's up to you.

A very pregnant woman dressed in all black just walked by. Doesn't black make you look bigger? I hope she's not in mourning. She seems to be smiling. Good. I love sitting here two hours a week. I love writing these memoirs. I don't keep a daily journal, and I still haven't sent a letter, but you knew that. Of all the hundreds (here she comes back again—exercise?), or is it thousands of my followers, most of all I hope my grandkids enjoy and learn from what I write. Are you listening? I'm doing it mostly for you, now and later. This is a little “happy” from GRAMMY and Gramps.

WE LOVE YOU BECCA.

WE LOVE YOU LAUREN (AND SCOTT)

WE LOVE YOU HANNAH (YOU TOO, DALANEY)

WE LOVE YOU LINDS

WE LOVE YOU PARKER

WE LOVE YOU SAM

WE LOVE YOU MADDIE

WE LOVE YOU CAROLINE

WE LOVE YOU MATTHEW

WE LOVE YOU JACK

WE LOVE YOU JOHN

WE LOVE YOU JONATHON

WE LOVE YOU SOPHIE

WE LOVE YOU CADE

WE LOVE YOU EMMA

WE LOVE YOU AVA

WE LOVE YOU ELLA

WE LOVE YOU BABY SCOTT (Do we know boy or girl yet? Any names come to mind?)

AND WE LOVE THEM WHAT BORNED YA AND RAISED Y'ALL UP.

AND WE LOVE AND MISS NOAH AND CHARLIE

LET'S STAY TOGETHER FOREVER.

She has come by four times, the latest with a husband type person. Married? Who knows? While I was spell-checking and editing she came by twice more with husband and daughter. It's a cool evening, just twilight with a nice breeze from the ocean. That's all for now.

Tues: 7:30 pm

No time to add much. We will pick up our “new” car on Sat, but will have to park it at the office, so we'll walk just as much but be free to go to the temple, the store, the coast, the branch. Today we couldn't get on the freeway to take the pouch; later learned that a big tour bus and a semi were in a firey head on—about 20 dead, more than that injured; details sketchy. You'll know more about it than we will.

Cherries 80 cents a pound, strawberries a dollar, but turkey—about $2 a pound. Ten for Thanksgiving at our little apartment—two couples and 6 young missionaries including us.

Thanks to all who contributed to the box. It was more like a shipping container. No wonder it took 23 days to get here. They had to put it on a separate ship. We loved all the goodies and letters and drawings. It was like Santa had come early. They do celebrate Christmas, not Thanksgiving. I wish I had my Santa suit. Trying to find a beard and cap at least.

We're headed home with a trolly full of fruits and veggies. LUV TO ALL

MOMANDDAD