Note: I missed a few weeks posting my mission emails because they were missing from my mom's email account. My brother had copies forwarded to him, but there still might be some that are missing.
It has been really cold here. Puddles have frozen. This week I had to bring out my sweater and my earmuffs. Today I'm going to buy some gloves (the ones I came out with are very bulky). I love unseasonable cold. They say it's going to get up into the 60s again this week.
Today I'm going to send home a package, if we can with it being Columbus Day. I'm sending home the watch (they told me I needed a receipt), my slacks, and a pair of shoes that now has holes in the soles. In addition, I sent home stuff that was sad to send home but the space will be needed when I get on the plane. This includes some books and some more CDs. The Michelle Tumes CD is one of my favorites but three of the songs aren't mission-approved, and we usually listen to our music on random. But the songs will be fine when I get home.
We had an interesting experience this past week. Thursday evening at about 7:30, we were seeing an old name I had found in our area book. It was dark so we couldn't see the addresses. We biked up to a mailbox but it was the wrong house, so we looked at the right mailbox. It wasn't labeled, so I picked up my bike to shine the headlight on the address, and determined it was the right one, so we dismounted our bikes at the end of the driveway and were getting ready to go to the door.
While we were doing this, a man opened the door and we asked if those people lived there. He never gave us a definitive answer, so we were asking how long he'd lived there, to determine when those people had moved. He asked if we were the ones in his yard for the last five minutes; he'd been watching with a surveillance camera. We had only spent about a minute searching for the address. He told us to get out of his yard (I guess he thought his driveway had grass on it) and never come back. But us turning our lights on and putting our helmets on wasn't enough for him; he expected us to vanish instantly. He was angry we weren't gone yet, and told us he had a shotgun.
My companion said, "Please don't threaten me." The villain responded, "It's not a threat, it's a promise." He continued to tell us to leave (never mind that we were preparing to leave) and he told his wife or someone inside to get his shotgun.
Both of us thought it unlikely he was actually going to do anything. However, my companion asked for the phone and called 911. We were up the road slightly on the next block. While I thought he was just a jerk while he was at his house, I was scared as a car pulled up and didn't pass us but simply followed us. He pulled up to me and continued to say the same things he had said previously. He asked me my name, so I conjured up the name Matthias. He asked what my name tag said, so I told him. Elder Tamblyn told me that the dispatcher said to tell him we were talking to the police, so I told him, and he said, "Good," and didn't have much else to say. He said something and then drove off and turned around, and on his way back he asked what my companion's tag said.
Shortly a female fuzz arrived and asked us the situation. We explained it and another policeman showed up and asked us if we were tracting, so we assumed he was a member. (As a side note, last night we had dinner with a member who's a cop and he had heard briefly about the incident, and he told us the woman is actually married to a less-active member.)[1]
My bike tire was flat so we went to the nearby church parking lot to pump it up, and while we were there the lady cop drove by and waved at us. We don't know what happened, although on Saturday we biked by his house, and a police car happened to precede us. It might have just been a coincidence.
I have received more persecution in Lewiston than anywhere else I've served. I've had a paper cup, a half-eaten apple, and spit hurled at me from moving cars. Nothing's hit me, although the apple hit my companion in the chest. (To say nothing of all the profanities and derogatory comments yelled at me.) But there must needs be opposition in all things; I've probably gotten into more houses here than anywhere else--not by people interested in the gospel, but just by friendly people who wanted to let us cool down. (I guess there's something good about serving in a hot place.)
Going back to my flat bike tire, that was the second time that day I had to pump it up, and when we got out of an appointment half an hour later, it was flat again. Pumping it was a daily thing, so I bought a new tube, one that's extra durable. I'd been using that tube since June 2008. The reason it's been flat so often is because of these nefarious goat-head plants. They were bad in East Wenatchee, but that valley doesn't hold a candle to how they are here. They're quaint-looking plants, with small green leaves and yellow flowers. But those little yellow flowers become vile green stars, which turn brown and split into five little indestructible pods. These resemble the head of a goat, and the horns are very pointy and painful, and murder tires. The slime in my tire is the only thing that's kept me safe; otherwise I would have been through fifty tubes by now.
This Saturday Elder Bednar will be speaking to our mission. It will be the only meeting with the whole mission I will have. That day (or around it) we should find out what I'm doing for my last six weeks.
When the policewoman asked me my name I didn't think it was appropriate to tell her it was Jeremiah. It was weird to use that other name and it will be an adjustment when I get back. I felt much better on Saturday when we helped an old lady who asked our first names, and I told her Jeremiah.[2]
As for [my home ward bishop] knowing someone in the bishopric here, there are three Lewiston wards. Our bishop is [redacted] Palmer and his counselors are [redacted] Hastings and [redacted] Christensen, although a [redacted] Mundell was recently released. The branch presidency is [redacted] Landeen, [redacted] Rauch, and [redacted] Godfrey. Of these seven [redacted] Christensen seems the most likely to me to know him (he does a lot with horses), but there are still two other wards, and Brother Christensen was only called a few months ago, while I was here.
I was very depressed packing up my box, and reading through my departing instructions. At least I still have seven weeks.
Love,
Elder Melville
[1] I
remember the lady cop asked if we felt we were in danger. I said I thought it
was unlikely that he would actually shoot us. But I was more scared when he
actually got in his car to follow us. What a jerk! The world doesn’t need mean
people. They should quit being mean. And if they won’t do that, they should
quit being people.
[2] I
didn’t like telling people my first name on my mission, so I told people my
name was Jeremiah. But the jerk guy didn’t even deserve that name, so I told
him Matthias. I don’t know whether he didn’t believe me or just wanted to know what
my name tag said.
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