Loss of a Friend

Loss of My Friend
"death unto life"

Yesterday my friend died.  Connie Nelson - petite, loving, fun, caring, beautitul, generous, kind, faithful, loyal, practical, clever, smart, funny, hospitable, positive, and a true disciple of Christ.  I will not be able to present that rain check for our special get-together after I return home from my mission.  

Dearest Connie, I won't be able to walk with you, come to your dinners and luncheons, or run over to your house to chat about church, family, politics, antiques, everything.  I won't be able to ooh and ahh over your latest cute outfit, purchased on sale, of course.  I won't be able to bring you into my kitchen or to my front porch.  I won't see that mischievous smile and bright face.  I won't enjoy your comments in Relief Society about not judging others, about loving everyone, about loving the Lord,  about gratitude and appreciation for blessings.  I won't be able to go to yard sales and consigning with you.  I won't enjoy your sincere interest in each of my children, whom you know by name (all 10!) and have been a friend and neighbor to.  I won't borrow your book for reading group.  I won't see you drive by in the car with Tim, stopping for a few moments to say "hi" and joke a little.

I won't do anymore funeral luncheons with you.  And sad to me, I will not be able to help with yours.

But I will, God willing, see you again. I love you.

Staying Clean

Staying Clean 
"a house of order"

Just for your info this is the type of scenario I've encountered as the ad hoc
mission housing coordinator: 

Phone rings.

"Sister Peterson, we need a new washer."

"Oh, what's the problem."

"It just stopped working and won't start and it won't empty."

"Well, did you try turning the knob to "spin" and closing the lid?"

"Yes, it just started thumping and stopped dead."

"What's in the washer?"

"Just our blankets, sheets, P-day clothes, socks, towels, bicycle safety vests...."

"Hmmm."  Explanation and troubleshooting follows, and often it is an easy fix.

Or another.  Phone rings.

"Sister Peterson, we need a new fridge."

"Oh, what's the problem?"

"We were gone for 3 days to MLC and came home and everything

stinks really bad. The fridge is warm."

"Hmmm. Is it plugged in?"

"Yes."

"Okay, Get rid of all the food. And I'll check on a fridge."

(I proceed to call another set of elders who have an extra fridge in their apartment.

and call the other elders the next morning.)

"Hi Elder.  Is the fridge still warm?"

"No, but it stinks really bad and I think it is blowing stinky air in from the

back. Something is seriously wrong. I found out there was a power outage

while we were gone."  

"Did you clean it out?"

"Yes, last night."

"Is it cold now?"

"I don't know, I haven't checked."

"Go check."

"Yes it's cold, but it really smells bad."

"Did you clean it out?"

 "Yes, it's empty now."

"Did you use soap or a cleaner?"

"For what?."

"When you wiped it out."

"Wiped it out?  Oh, um.  We didn't have time."

"Okay, get some bleach, some dish soap and

put it in some water and use a clean rag to

scrub it out really well.  Then dry it.

I think that might fix your fridge."

Sisters of Charity

Sisters of Charity
"I was an hungered and ye gave me meat"

     Sister Florette and Me (Please don't reproduce photo, as I promised this was just for family.)

I am so pleased when I meet people who are loving, dedicated to serving others as this Sister of Charity, Sister Florette, of the same Catholic religious order as Mother Teresa.  She has taken vows of chastity, poverty, obedience and service to the poorest of the poor for her whole life.  She is far from her home and family.  She is gracious and kind and humble.

Every single day these sisters feed the poor, cooking up big pots of food every morning. They have some elderly men that live near them, that they house and feed. They run a nursery school for parents who are looking for work.  

We were able to donate a supply of school kits to them, and while we were there a mother with her three sons had showed up and the boys were very grateful for the backpacks and school supplies.  

Answer to a Letter From Friends Considering a Mission

Letter to Friends
"I am a stranger in the earth."

Dear C and A,

First, healthwise, we have been truly blessed and our prayers for health and strength answered. Other than a couple of reactions to spicy local food that goes right through, we have been healthy. We are thankful for this great blessing.

We both knew we wanted to serve a couples mission, and we decided to do it after Tom retired. You are ideal missionary candidates and your unique talents and abilities could help in many situations. You two have creative talents I can only dream of.

We started talking seriously about going early in 2016 and decided we would like to go around Septemberish.  We got to the MTC October 31.  

We started watching the Senior Missionary Opportunities website, watching for that posting that would prompt us to apply.  I suggest you do that, then call and talk to the  people named on the website for the type of mission that you feel lead to.  You can ask for what you want, or take whatever.  They also have more informatioin. You might get what you want, or you might get changed. But they want to send seniors where they can use their talents. I don't think you could pay me enough to be an office worker or a name extractor. (I can't see you and A doing that and liking it, but maybe that would be your dream mission.)   Humanitarian is a lot of hard work, but not boring, is interesting and challenging. I also think a mission at a church historic site would be absolutely lovely.  

It a tedious job getting shots, a health profile completed, legal documents such as police reports, passports or visas if you go out of country, interviews, paperwork, etc.  But the missionary website helps you all along the way. Getting ready for a senior mission is much more work though, because you have to consider the lifetime accumulation of responsibilities, finances and family matters.  Our daughter Mary is living in our home and has power of attorney for our finances and income taxes.  We put all our bills on automatic payment.  I left big box to dump our mail in - after Mary sorts out the junk mail.  I bought and wrapped Christmas presents for the two Christmases we'd miss. Granted that was an unnecessary thing, but I wanted to do it.) We have WhatsApp on our phones, along with all of our children, so we have had an enjoyable exchange of photos, chit-chat, and video and phone calls, all free.  (Of course you have to pay for your phone. We have t-Mobile and it has a text/data plan, and we don't worry about minutes because of WhatsApp.)  So although we've missed babies, graduations, baptisms and new missionaries - we were well informed and much is shared so we feel a part of it all.)  We also have Skype, but they've changed from the original version and I don't like to use it much. Before we left I felt overwhelmed going through all our "stuff" and making room for Mary's family and then when I felt fairly satisfied with my progress Tom's mom moved out of her house and I will have all of her accumulation to go through when I get home.  So it may never feel like the job is completed - and thankfully we die someday and then it will be totally completed!  So this is some of the kind of practical stuff.  I had a hard time finding clothes for a semi-tropical climate in Utah, and resorted to Savers and DI for skirts and some tops.  At the time there were a lot of short dresses and immodest tops that were in the stores, I could hardly find anything new.

This logo goes on boxes of donated humanitarian supplies.

Living in this mission has been an education like no other. I didn't even know where Trinidad was. I thought it was in Spain.  I thought Suriname was somewhere near Malaysia.  And Guyana?  All I knew was that Jim Jones and Cult drank suicidal red Koolaid in the jungle.  Lizards and frogs are frequent houseguests and we have bats in the ceiling that make some black dried up bat poop that falls through the cracks and you can hear them chirp and skitter.  We take a daily early morning walk around the neighborhood where we may encounter loose dogs, cats, cattle, horses, donkeys, drunk guys, barefooted, bare bottomed babies, blaring Indian music with blaring Gospel music and Soca, drummers from a Madras Indian religion that sacrifices animals, fishermen, fish, pigs, monkeys, on roads that are deeply pitted, sunken and full of animal droppings and puddles. And the smells are equally pungent.  Women start cooking early in the morning and people go outside to vigorously brush their teeth and spit in the ditches which are full of everything including the kitchen sink.  We say "Good morning morning."  People are nice. They call to us from their hammocks, their porches, their doorways, their bicycles.  Dey be talkin' Creolese an we kanna unstan, weez lernin. We buy fresh bananas and melons and fruits from a lady's cart, bread from a man that sells from his car, a megaphone advertising his wares. The wind blows in a huge gust and then the rain pours like it has been flung by a gigantic bucket, then the road dries up in minutes.  Men walk their birds in little cages. The cane workers, loaded into the backs of big trucks outfitted with benches, covered with a tarp, rumble by. One entertaining dilemma we observed was when a housemover unsuccessfully tried to turn a corner and the road sunk in and the house fell in the trench.  We were amazed they were able to eventually get it hoisted back onto the trailer and deliver it to the lot, where it perches atop wood pillars. The main highway, where we live, features hired cars and vans, motorcycles, bikes, donkey drawn carts, and all the above animals, as well as pedestrians waiting for a hired cars, some shaded by umbrellas or in little covered bus stops. They pass on the right, they pass on the left, the hired drivers drive like crazy and trucks are slow.  We are incredibly lucky to not have killed or been killed.  

The Church is small, but growing. The strong members are incredibly strong and brave. The missionaries are also incredibly strong and brave.  We love them all.  We see small miracles and are grateful to be serving, learning, working, loving and growing. We go to different branches every week because Tom is in the new Berbice District Presidency.  We hope one day the Church will be strong enough to have a temple here.

Well, I've gone on and on...if you have anymore questions, let me know.  Demke's, what say you?

Love,

Sister Catherine (I like that, sounds kind of like I'm a nun.  And by the way we've worked a little with the Sisters of Charity - they are from the same order as Mother Teresa - wear the same habit. They are dear, humble and feed the poor every single day.)

Two old missionaries...

Learning the Hard Way
"for such a time as this"

Natalie, our wonderful daughter (in-law) wrote a little
note to us that made me reflect on all the life experience I've had, which really has prepared me to handle a lot of the various challenges of this mission.  She makes us (Elder Peterson and I) sound better than we really are, but what she says is true for each person who takes their abilities and life-lessons and applies them to whatever situations they encounter. And yes, I've learned a lot from others and from life. Sometimes the learnings are rich and wide and deep. Sometimes questions remain. Sometimes I think/sense/believe things which are kept on hold and until they are verified. And sometimes I feel things that remain unspoken because I am protective of them and save them for proper disclosure in a safe place. Anyway, here's what Natalie wrote, and you can pretend she's writing to you, too.  Just plug in your skills and talents. God gave you some, too!

"Tom and Cath, I can't help but think how prepared you guys have beenn to be doing what you're doing "at such a time as this," You've been blessed to have organizational skills.  You are skilled at teaching and leading the youth. You know how to find good deals and buy things that you know people need.  You know how to lead a team.  You know how to feed an army.  You know how to entertain a crowd - especially the youth (and can come up with great games that you learned as a PE coach!)  You know how to work with other teams to get a project accomplished.  You are able to get by on little when there isn't much to go around.  You have awesome gardening skills to teach others.  You are both amazing teachers and can teach the gospel as you teach life skills, just as Christ would do.  And mostly you are good at loving the people around you, wherever that is.  These people need you and you have been sent for all the gifts and talents you have to share. You are such examples to all of us, including your grandchildren that will follow your examples.  We love you so much!"

Sign in Georgetown Hospital

The Red-Eye Express
"to cure diseases"

Our landlord warned us that pink-eye was spreading like an epidemic. It wasn't but 2 days later Elder Wells called to find out what he could do to treat pink-eye.  Since he lives a little distance from here we suggested he call a couple of sisters in the branch and see what they recommend.  After consulting with them he calls me back and tells me that he wasn't really up for trying either remedy.  "So what did they suggest?" I ask.
Elder Wells said, "Well, the first one suggested I get these certain leaves and boil them in water, then wash my eyes out with the water. I'm not sure about putting that in my eye."
"Okay," I say. "Understandable."
Pause
"The second one wasn't anything I wanted to try either," he says.
Longer pause
I ask, "What was that?"
Elder Wells, quietly says, "Rinse with breast milk."
(I am trying to process this and not laugh too much over the phone.)
 "And she said I could come over and get some." 
By this time I am nearly doubled over laughing, imagining what was going through an 18 year old missionary's mind.  So I relent and assure him I'll help and go to the drug store and find something.  So we drive over the Canje Bridge to New Amsterdam for the eye drops, then back over the bridge to another bridge, then over that bridge (Berbice Bridge) to Rosignol, to meet him to give him the medicine.  He is standing in front of the church (a rented house) with his companion.  He is wearing sunglasses.  I ask to see his eye.  Yep, conjunctivitis.  I give him instructions. He thanks me, then proceeds to tell about a meeting they just had with a family.  When the missionaries went into the house he thought it was strange that they were all wearing sunglasses.  So his companion asks why they are all wearing sunglasses.  One family member says, in all seriousness, "We don't want Elder Wells to look at our eyes, because we don't want to catch the "red eye."

It gets better.  The next Sunday we go to a different area for church.  One of the sisters (an outspoken and can-do kind of woman) walks in, wearing sunglasses, and loudly announces she's not shaking anyone's hands today because she has pink-eye.  Okay, I'm more than happy to keep my distance.  After Sacrament Meeting I go upstairs to observe the Primary.
The lesson is "I Am Thankful for my Ears."  The teacher is leading an activity where a boy turns his back to the class and class members speak aloud one at a time and he is supposed to guess who it is by their voice.  Just then Sister No-Hand-Shakey walks in and sees what's going on.  She takes a washcloth (people carry wash cloths for wiping sweat away) from her purse.  She folds it into a blindfold and covers the little boy's eyes with it.  It is too small to tie in the back so she tells him to hold it in place with his hands......then the next child, etc. You get the picture.  I admit I had conflicting feelings about this - whether I should speak up or pretend it was like trying to make my son with the chicken pox kiss his little sister on the lips.

I'm sure people from other cultures view a lot of things Americans do as inexplicable, too....

Side Show

On the Way to the Store

“in the attitude of mocking and pointing their fingers”

Bunches of Bitty Baby Cutie-Patootie Booties

On May 29 we were on a hunt for items to fill newborn kits (diapers, pins, blankets, booties, etc.) which will be stored in an emergency container.  We were in downtown Georgetown on a busy street.  As we crossed the street there was a street preacher wearing a tan linen smock and yelling into a megaphone.   I wasn’t paying much attention to him until I realized he was shouting at us.  He was calling us “pink devils” and screeching about the Book of Mormon and how Mormons hate black people.  I turned to look at him and calmly said, “That’s not right,” but he kept yelling, and so I just turned into the store.  Tom was not quite as calm, and told him to stop it.  Didn’t work.  But we then just ignored him.  A man watching the whole thing, looked at us as if to indicate he understood the guy was off-base.  We’ve also had people suck their teeth at us, which, we hear, is a sign of derision.  When that happens I play ignorant and just smile at them and say, “Good morning.”  

I know the young missionaries get a lot more heckling.  Just part of the whole deal, I guess.