Letter #44

Dearest Family,

Before I dig into spices, a surprise: Last Monday after we left the internet cafe we found out that this transfer was only a five week transfer and thus next week was transfers. HeLLOO!! Not sure how we missed that one but we did : ) So that means that today was transfers and. . . I got transferred. My first official, normal transfer. Still slightly in shock. But I'm going to Londrina, Tiradentes Stake, and my companion will be Elder Leonardo, a Brasilian who I hear speaks really good English.

So. That´s the breaking news. I will sorely miss Elder Beaudoin who has become a dear friend. He is, in every sense, a champ. The last eleven weeks were superb in large part due to his constant efforts to serve, lift-up and minister. What could have been the most challenging stretch of my mission thus far, was transformed into one of the most refining and enjoyable. We found peace in our work and in the gospel and in our friendship as I'm sure not many missionaries have.

So, spices. The all out winner above all others is garlic. GARLIC, garlic garlic. It's on and in everything. A second would probably be salt, or garlic salt. The garlic when strong attacks after lunch in venomous garlic burps that are not so great.

The other day I should relate we bought a well-roasted chicken for lunch, and at the suggestion of Elder Beaudoin, we broke the wishbone in this manner: He who gets the larger end will marry first. I won. Just thought I'd throw that in there for future reference as to the correctness of divination by chicken.

We also experienced what I can truly say is the heart of old Brasil, the Brasil that is memorialized on postcards or short stories. We tracked into a family, an older couple, who is classic and ideal in every way. Think, as I cannot describe sufficiently here, what scene these ingredients and spices of Brasil create: Shoemaker, leather, orange tree, white roses, brown wool cardigans, glass paned windows with white wood shutters, bottled "doce de laranja" (orange marmalade), cinnamon sticks, tropical orchids, white hair pulled back into a gepetto ponytail, frayed white linen shirt, 1929 truck, slight Spanish accent, and the clearing of a 5 o'clock rainstorm into the sunset. That is the quickest version I can give of what Brasil really is. At last I have discovered it and I love it. One day I will write a story about the Celsio´s search for laranja doce and how his father, who came from Italy, lived till 3 weeks short of his 101st birthday. It will be worthy of Kipling or Hemingway.

A last note on the shomaker old man, it was very cool to see him ply his trade, a trade that my great-grandfather plied many years ago. Here in Brasil, perhaps all over, I don't know, it can't have changed much since that time. It was a "sole"ful moment ; )

We had a sweet experience with our project challenging the institute members to give out copies of the Book of Mormon. Up till this week they had been members who were more or less strong. This week a recently returned couple was assigned. They took their challenge very seriously and with enthusiasm, praying about who should receive that book. Finally, with trepidation they managed the task and bore a powerful testimony of the spirit that filled them as they did so. We expect, as well, high returns on the two references they got as a result. Seeing the enthusiasm, the young sister chosen for this week asked for two, one of which I know has already been gifted. Alas! I must leave all this, but it is gratifying to see the members invested in the work : )

Well, I take my leave for the week. Thank you for the love. I listen to the talks on the USB, I think of you. I snack on peanut m&ms, and think of you. I sleep, warmly, and think of you. I testify to those who will hear, and how do I think of you. The gospel is true. It is eternal! I know this and love you more for each passing moment that turns a simple seed of faith into a growing tree of certainty.

"The way is prepared, and if we will look we may live forever" (Alma 37:46).

Love, forever,

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