3 Days of Christmas Memories
Tonight we went to a live Nativity pageant at a nearby church. It's a lot of fun and the kids liked seeing the real donkey and sheep in the real stable. I was impressed by the amount of work that the members of this church had put into their play, and I also had the thought "well, of course, they want us to join their church." I know that missionary work was part of their goal, but I realized that behind that was a sincere joy in their belief. They really believe in Christ and want to share that with others. Of course I thought of my mission and of the joy I felt in sharing with others. Not just my testimony and not just with the expectation that they would join the church, but simple joy in our ability to get to know each other and learn more about life from that experience. It's hard to explain the kinds of relationships you have with people as a missionary because they are so different from anything else you experience later in life. Anyways, I thought I'd share a few memories from a missionary Christmas. I actually spent two holiday seasons on my mission, but these photos are from my last area. I went home at the end of January, so Christmas was the beginning of the end for me.
My companion and I with Sister Rodriguez. They were an American family living in Madrid while he worked for the Embassy. They had a nice big house and had all the missionaries over often for dinners and parties (the ward had two districts assigned to it, so sixteen missionaries). We had a Christmas party at their house with American food and fun games.
This is Loli (and me with a lovely langostino). She invited us over for Christmas dinner and it was hard to say no. Somehow the elders tracked her down although she had been inactive for years. She loved to have us over for lunch, though most of the food was fairly inedible. Loli had had a hard life and lived with her mother, who was senile and would scream swear words at her and at us (she thought we were nuns). We did get Loli to come to church with us at least once while I was there, so I hope that she's doing OK now.
I love this picture because it's pretty typical of a visit to our favorite Armenian family's house. Arrus and her husband joined the church while living in Germany (they left Armenia after a devastating earthquake killed many of their family members). Even though they were still learning Spanish, they were stalwart members of the ward. They would invite the entire zone over to their little apartment and stuff us full of Russian food. They did also have a bunch of Armenian friends that they referred to the missionaries, so the ward had a little colony of expatriates. We usually stayed late at their apartment and ended up having to run to catch the last train (they lived out on the edge of the city) with our bellies stuffed full of food.
This is another Armenian family that we became friends with shortly before I left. They had recently arrived in Madrid and had very few possessions. I gave most of my clothes to the girls when I came home. I have no idea if they got baptized or not. At the time that I was there they were still "friends of the missionaries" and taking English classes at the church. The mom barely spoke Spanish and didn't speak English, but she was always gracious and generous. They gave us a giant box of Russian chocolates that made our entire apartment smell like liquor.
This is me with Manoli and her husband on my last Sunday in the mission. Jose didn't usually attend church, but he came down to the chapel to see me before I left. Manoli had joined the church a number of years ago, but couldn't always attend because her elderly mother lived with them and needed constant care. Her husband is a physician and works some Sundays, so Manoli had to stay home. We had a set appointment each week for "merienda" (kind of like tea time) with Manoli so we could chat about church and things. She had a secret agenda--she hoped Jose would get to know us and start to like the church more. During the three months I was in the area he actually really warmed up to me and my companion and would sit and chat with us about all kinds of things, like Spanish history and politics and even gospel topics occasionally. Because Jose was working on Christmas Eve, Manoli invited us over for supper. We had traditional salt cod, with white asparagus and mayonnaise, of course. I really felt close to this couple and do wonder how they are doing. I realize as I write this post that I haven't kept in touch with anyone from my mission. Well, a few of the other missionaries, but that's it. I hope that they knew that I cared, and that I still do care about them. Christmas is often a time to reconnect with old friends and to celebrate friendship. I hope you enjoyed meeting some of my friends from Spain. I also hope some day I can see them again.
My companion and I with Sister Rodriguez. They were an American family living in Madrid while he worked for the Embassy. They had a nice big house and had all the missionaries over often for dinners and parties (the ward had two districts assigned to it, so sixteen missionaries). We had a Christmas party at their house with American food and fun games.
This is Loli (and me with a lovely langostino). She invited us over for Christmas dinner and it was hard to say no. Somehow the elders tracked her down although she had been inactive for years. She loved to have us over for lunch, though most of the food was fairly inedible. Loli had had a hard life and lived with her mother, who was senile and would scream swear words at her and at us (she thought we were nuns). We did get Loli to come to church with us at least once while I was there, so I hope that she's doing OK now.
I love this picture because it's pretty typical of a visit to our favorite Armenian family's house. Arrus and her husband joined the church while living in Germany (they left Armenia after a devastating earthquake killed many of their family members). Even though they were still learning Spanish, they were stalwart members of the ward. They would invite the entire zone over to their little apartment and stuff us full of Russian food. They did also have a bunch of Armenian friends that they referred to the missionaries, so the ward had a little colony of expatriates. We usually stayed late at their apartment and ended up having to run to catch the last train (they lived out on the edge of the city) with our bellies stuffed full of food.
This is another Armenian family that we became friends with shortly before I left. They had recently arrived in Madrid and had very few possessions. I gave most of my clothes to the girls when I came home. I have no idea if they got baptized or not. At the time that I was there they were still "friends of the missionaries" and taking English classes at the church. The mom barely spoke Spanish and didn't speak English, but she was always gracious and generous. They gave us a giant box of Russian chocolates that made our entire apartment smell like liquor.
This is me with Manoli and her husband on my last Sunday in the mission. Jose didn't usually attend church, but he came down to the chapel to see me before I left. Manoli had joined the church a number of years ago, but couldn't always attend because her elderly mother lived with them and needed constant care. Her husband is a physician and works some Sundays, so Manoli had to stay home. We had a set appointment each week for "merienda" (kind of like tea time) with Manoli so we could chat about church and things. She had a secret agenda--she hoped Jose would get to know us and start to like the church more. During the three months I was in the area he actually really warmed up to me and my companion and would sit and chat with us about all kinds of things, like Spanish history and politics and even gospel topics occasionally. Because Jose was working on Christmas Eve, Manoli invited us over for supper. We had traditional salt cod, with white asparagus and mayonnaise, of course. I really felt close to this couple and do wonder how they are doing. I realize as I write this post that I haven't kept in touch with anyone from my mission. Well, a few of the other missionaries, but that's it. I hope that they knew that I cared, and that I still do care about them. Christmas is often a time to reconnect with old friends and to celebrate friendship. I hope you enjoyed meeting some of my friends from Spain. I also hope some day I can see them again. 
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