Monday, July 21, 2014

When I Flew to Church

*ok...we didn't really fly, but we rode in a moto that looks like a helicopter.  It was the best.


Franklin is 97 years old.  He lives on a hill so steep that part of it is stairs because it's literally impossible to walk up - (my area is a ghetto Mexican San Francisco as far as the hills go).  He is like 4 feet tall and has an even tinier wife that always giggles when she talks.  They are fantastic.  

Franklin kneels every time he prays.  Whether it's for the food or to end the lesson - he kneels.  He is so tiny and old I'm always terrified he'll break, but he always does it.  We have to help him get back up on his feet because he is so tiny and frail. 

Franklin always wears his beanie with a shotgun and a marijuana leaf on it.  I don't think he actually knows his little beanie has a gun and drugs on it.  He is darling.  He called President Gordon B. Hinckley, President Hinkie.  

Whenever he says the name "Iglesia de Jesucristo de los santos de los ultimos dias," his voice slowly gets higher and higher in pitch and his smile gets bigger.  In the words of my companion, "he's got twinkly eyes." 

I love Franklin.  And sometimes when I don't feel like kneeling to pray, I think of him, and it makes it a little easier.


Got special permiso to go to the temple with our investigators.  We walked forever, but eventually made it.  As soon as we stepped through those gates I felt at peace.   There is power at the temple.  In the end we all cried and hugged.  It was pretty wonderful.
*we took our favorite investigators to the temple.  We had to ask for special permission and walk like an hour and a half but it was worth it.  They all cried. We hugged.  And we decided that the temple is a pretty cool place to be.

Flying to Church:

So there are these things here called motos.  They're basically kind of like a clown car but a taxi.  A member in our ward [church congregation] tricked his out and made it look like a helicopter. 

Usually you can cram about 5 people in a moto MAXIMUM, but we fit  9.  It was hilarious.  4 little kids in the back, 2 missionaries, a really old man in the middle, and me and the owner in the front.  We laughed the whole way, and as we drove past people, they pulled out their phones to take pictures. 

When we were on our way home we hit the SUPER STEEP HILLS part of town and couldn't make it up.  So we missionaries hopped out and started to push.  Just stop and imagine for a moment a tiny clown car that looks like a helicopter on an almost unbelievably steep hill and three white girls pushing it.  We sure were a sight to see.  We laughed.  Hard.  It was a happy day.


-I thought machete (giant big Mexican knife) was just a noun.  Turns out its also a verb.  Machete -ing.

- Because we're so new to this area we get lost.  A LOT.  We walked in circles, and we once passed the same street and a heard an old lady mutter "There they go again." hahaha our lives right now.

*made a green smoothie in a blue fuzzy robe.  I am you.  And it just makes me so dang happy. [mom]

*my awk missionary life - basically being a missionary is the best. "called to be awkward"

*for you mom - the food I eat and how i wash my clothes- just so you can get a better view into my life!  love you

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