I have been pulling these letters from my mom's email account before I post them here. This letter was buried because of my mom forwarding it at a later date, so this letter actually came before the previous post.
What kind of letter was that..."love Rick"?! I understand "Pops,"
"Vatti" or simply "Dad," but what's with this
"Rick" thing?![1]
And I suppose I don't have a problem with you forwarding my
emails.
Anyway...
Now that the holidays are over hopefully I will be able to
email on a more consistent basis. At
first I thought we couldn't email because we were doing too much on
those P-days but now I realize that on New Year's Day the library wouldn't have
been open and Christmas Eve it probably would have closed earlier.
We had an interesting week. On Friday we came home for lunch and were up cooking and talking with
Sister W., the member with whom we live.[2] We three were the only
ones home at the time (maybe H., the ex-con son, was down in his room--I'm not
sure). The phone rang so Sister W. went into the other room to answer it. Elder
C. went downstairs, leaving me up in the
kitchen. Soon Sister W. comes out of the
room calling, "Missionaries!" She found me and told me she had a feeling something terrible had happened
and she wanted me with her (one of her sons was on the phone and he'd told her
he didn't want her to be alone). She grabbed my hand and brought me onto the
couch. She squeezed my hand as she
cried, hearing the news, and when Brother W. came home (while she was on the
phone) she met him and they went into their
room. It is because of this phone call that on Saturday they left us
with an empty house. The three Ws are down in Salt Lake now because their
youngest son was electrocuted in a construction accident. The incredibly sad
irony is that he was working at the Capitol on
Utah's birthday.[3] So if you see or have seen
an obituary for a J. W., that is who it is. That evening some people from the
ward came to give them blessings. We came home from appointments too late so we
barely missed giving Sister W. a blessing but we were able to help with Brother
W. and H.[4]
Yesterday was also a bit of a downer. One of our members is
responsible for two of the people we're working with. Sister Cunningham started
having her friend Debbie take the lessons before I came. I believe I told you about her in my
last letter, how she and her boyfriend's kids are on date for baptism, but she
must get married before she can be baptized. A few weeks ago we discussed
marriage with her but Elder C. did not tell her that she had to get married to
be baptized(separation is not our first preference because she is so close to
Walt's kids). We called Sister Cunningham the other day to make sure she knew.
She said she thought she understood but she'd call to make sure. Well,
yesterday we found out that the news of that came as quite a blow. She didn't
come to church because she was so upset. We stopped by her apartment briefly
yesterday, and she said we were still on for our meeting on Thursday, but she
was crying and clearly not overly happy with the news. I can't decide if it's
good or bad she's so distraught--it makes it a delicate and awkward situation,
but it shows her desire to be baptized.
Sister Cunningham also referred us to her less-active
brother, complete with earring and sleeveless shirts. He has complete faith in
God and knows the truth but he was struggling with some deeper doctrine.
Through meeting with him we were able to answer his questions, or at least lead
him to answer his own. He is trying to quit smoking and wanted to come to
church at the new year. Some of his biggest problems reside with the fact that his wife is a philanderer
and had her first of two (known) affairs three days after baptism. He is ready
to be a father (they have two or three kids) but she can't abandon the party
life. We gave him the bishop's number and he agreed to meet with him for
marriage counseling.[5] Yesterday was the day for
him to meet with the bishop. We called Sister Cunningham to ask how it went.
All I know is that he was not happy with it. I think we're still on to meet
with him this week, but I hope everything's not lost with him.
You know that street I told you about on Christmas where
three people told us to come back? Well, we haven't had much luck. I'll write
you perhaps in more detail in my letter today but I have to end my letter for
now.[6]
Love,
Elder Melville.
[1]
My dad had sent me an email that he signed with his real name, which I found
ridiculous. We usually called him “Pops” because my niece did. “Vatti” started
when my brother took junior high German.
[2]
“With whom we live”...ugh. I erroneously believed you couldn’t end a sentence
with a preposition.
[4]
The ward members used oil in the blessings, but I didn’t think it was the time
to point out that wasn’t necessary.
[5]
I’m 90 percent certain the bishop was a professional counselor, but I can’t find
his practice online.
[6]
We tracted a street where only three people answered, but they all said we
could come back. But I don’t think any of them were serious. (Actually, one
might have been, but we didn’t get far with him.)
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