Dressed All in White

Bonjour encore mes tres chers amis,

District conference, the weekend we both anticipated and prepared for, is now behind us.  Another whirlwind weekend, with missionary interviews on Friday,  Priesthood and Auxiliary leadership training on Saturday afternoon (Sister Adams and I were in charge of the auxiliary session...another story for another time...one of those "OH NO!" moments), followed by Saturday evening and Sunday sessions of conference.  I mentioned before that Brent and I both had to speak in the Saturday evening session, something I knew Brent would do wonderfully, but I was filled with anguish anticipating a ten minute talk in French...that is A LOT of French, with no idea how my brain and my mouth would coordinate under stress.  We had numerous messages of support from family members, a random "love you and wish you well" email  from a friend at home who didn't have any idea what what was happening here (which really made us smile and appreciate her), an extra kindness lovingly given from a friend here who DID know what was happening, and, most importantly, needed blessings from Heaven.  When we sat down on the stand and looked out on all the faces that have become so familiar to us and so much a part of our everyday lives, any feelings of fear were immediately replaced with feelings of peace and love.  Fulfilling that assignment was a wonderful blessing and will be a treasured memory as we recall those faces smiling up at us and the love and support we felt from them.  I also have a "snapshot of the heart" from the Sunday session, as I watched Brent bear his testimony, hands outstretched on the pulpit, elbows locked, head cocked a little to the side, trying to contain his emotions, as he, in his own conversational style, bore his witness of what he knew to be true.  It was all so familiar to me; I have seen it happen for years at home, and yet to see it here, spoken in French, possibly for the last time in a formal setting, filled my heart to overflowing.  For me, it was the realization of a line in my Patriarchal blessing that I had always wondered about, and never completely understood; now I did.  When I was fifteen years old, Heavenly Father knew that I would come here and He knew how it would strengthen me.

President Adams conference message contained a thought that was brought strongly to mind as we attended the Primary program in the St. Marie branch this morning.  He said, "When you look at someone, no matter what their circumstances or their past, visualize them dressed in white, prepared to enter the temple.  See them for who they really are."  As we entered the chapel, the children were all seated on the stand... dressed in white.  I don't know how they did it, but eighteen children were dressed in white, the girls in long white dresses with white flowers or bows in their hair, the boys all in white shirts.  As they sang and gave their talks, they RADIATED.  They looked and felt special.  Primary songs have always made me teary,,,yes, I know, it doesn't take much...but the French language has such a beautiful, musical cadence, that a whole meeting of French primary songs was just incredible.  They sang of the temple, which leads me to something I have wanted to talk about for a while now.

Almost every Sunday, Brent signs temple recommends after church.  Many of the members here will only attend the temple once, if ever.  It is something they save for, plan for, wait for, and dream about; the greatest desire of their hearts...literally. The Johannesburg temple is 1,770 miles away and the trip is very expensive...BUT...there is something called the Temple Patron Fund, and that is where all the rest of us come in.  When we fill out our tithing slips, there is a donation line for the Temple Patron fund.  After the members here have done EVERYTHING they can to go to the temple, the church will help subsidize the trip for their initial endowments, a one time trip.  A dream that we can help make happen. A dream we knew you would be interested in assisting with.

Highlight of the week:  Two weeks ago, we had two elders with birthdays, one from the south district and one from the north.  We always celebrate with birthday cakes and ice cream after district meeting, so we had parties two days in a row.  On the following Sunday, the zone leader had to come to the apartment to file vehicle reports on the computer.  It was fast Sunday, they had worked all day, and I knew they wouldn't have eaten, so I told them to plan on dinner.  When they entered the apartment, one of the zone leader's companions (the one who just had the birthday) said, "Sister Heap, is that lasagna I smell?"  "It is Elder; do you like lasagna?"  "Sister Heap, do you know that for as long as I can remember, we have celebrated my birthday with a lasagna dinner?  My family sent me a picture of them eating lasagna on my birthday."  I had cooked a HUGE pan of lasagna; they ate and ate and ate.  I can't count the times he thanked me and kept repeating, "I can't believe I am EATING lasagna!"  (I have only cooked lasagna three times here in sixteen months.)  My heart was so grateful for the unrecognized prompting to fix lasagna; a great young elder, doing his best, was blessed with a little taste of home.  Unbeatable!

Lowlight of the week:  We had decided, with the Adams, that we would not take a major hike on this visit.  They arrived late Wednesday; Friday, Saturday, and Sunday were HUGE days and none of us wanted to be tired, so we collectively said "NO" to anything more than a mild workout.  Early Thursday morning we reached the trailhead at the top of Mafate that led down to the tiny mountain village of La Nouvelle (you remember, established by runaway slaves; only accessible by foot or helicopter).  The view from the top is spectacular - the reason we went up there - and our intentions were to hike down just "a little way" to enjoy that majestic cirque and its beautiful scenery.  No water, no food, no need, just a little hike.  Four and a half hours later we again reached the trailhead after completing the entire hike - down to the village, where we were able to buy a bottle of juice and water, and back.  We should have known we wouldn't stop!!!!!

PHOTO GALLERY:

My weekly indulgence, fresh flowers from the marche.  We can buy a little bunch for one euro; two, or three bunches makes a beautiful arrangement.

The end of the south district's birthday celebration; missionaries working, visiting, and talking things over with Elder Heap.

The birthday boy from the north district.  

After dinner fun with some stalwart members from St Pierre.

A little fuzzy, but the "highlight" lasagna  birthday dinner.  What a delight!

This is just a part of the flower section of the marche.  If you turn to the left, it extends twice as far as this photo, on both sides of the aisle.  Again...my indulgence.

A little of our local flavor.

Looking through the cabbages, (chou); just beyond are the chou choux,. One our favorite foods here is chou choux au gratin. (with cheese)  You have to take a number at the cheese counter.  I once counted eight different varieties of blue cheese alone.

Don't you just love it!  I can't believe I was able to snap this photo with no people.  The aisles are always so crowded.

This has to be one of my mission highlights.  The sisters found Jean tracting, but couldn't teach him because they have to be accompanied by a female adult.  They called and asked if I could go with them on a Friday afternoon.  When we arrived, there was a party going on in the small courtyard in front of his house.  Loud music, loud people.  I wondered if I should even allow the sisters to go in.  We went in the house; he immediately told the party goers to turn down the music and hold down the noise.  I relaxed.  After the lesson, I asked the sisters to schedule me in each week because I never wanted to miss an opportunity to meet with him. Something just clicked with us, and the gospel message resonated with him.  They taught him; I asked them to give me a small part of each lesson.  He was baptized on Saturday morning.

"See them dressed in white; see them for who they really are."

Each day, for all of us, is a gift.  May we gratefully recognize what we have been given.

Love and best wishes from...

The Castaways