Missionary work!

     In Preach My Gospel, there is a section entitled "Talk to Everyone".   One day a couple of months ago we were at an A&W, treating the young Elders to lunch after district meeting in a city about 45 minutes from Victoriaville   No judging please, about the fast food choice.  Paul is insistent on eating as quickly as possible so the missionaries can get back to work after the meeting each week.  Fast food fits the bill, and, unfortunately, expands the waistline, but that is a topic for another time.           Anyway, one day as we sat to eat, each of us, as usual, bowed our heads and said a silent prayer to bless the food.  A man observed us and said a few words to Paul, in English.  Paul and the young elders struck up a conversation with him.  He really liked to talk, and knew both French and English, so the conversation was fluid (ha, ha!).  Paul explained a little about what we were doing here and the young elders spoke to him also.   We asked if he would like to  talk to the missionaries who live in that city and he agreed to give us his name and phone number.  Just like that, we had a referral for the other missionaries and they began to teach him.  Today he came to a child's baptism here in Victoriaville and as we visited with him he told us he had been studying the Book of Mormon and meeting with the missionaries for 5 or 6 weeks.  He said he is going to be baptized on December 6th.  We told him we would come to his baptism.  This was a great experience- to see that a simple conversation with a friendly man has led to someone receiving the fullness of the gospel.  See, we have done some missionary work here!
   As a side note, it is interesting to hear this story from the young elders here in Victoriaville.  They have essentially re-written the event at A&W so that Paul is out of the picture.  In their young and eager minds, they are the ones who talked with him and got the referral.  It really was Paul, with them chiming in appropriately, but oh, well, we don't care.  We are just grateful to have been able to further the work in some small way.  
    

This time I know!

Yesterday was November 15th.  Last year, in early October, we visited friends we met in Switzerland who now live in Quebec.  They told us that, without fail, the weather changes just about exactly on November 15th.  Truly, last year on November 15th the temperature took a dive and we had snow.  This year we had the first flakes on the 14th, but today we had enough to cover the grass.  And, it goes without saying, the temperature is now in the low 30's during the day.  The anticipation of the coming winter last year has been replaced with shear dread because I know what is coming.  Thankfully, we may be out of here before the frightening negative double digit "highs" become common place.
    We often drive on a particular street enroute to a member's apartment, and have loved seeing this cute statue in a yard:

     One day in mid October as we drove by we saw this and now knew why the owner goes to great lengths to protect it:

    As I put on my tights, scarf and boots today, I am not smiling very much...

Maple Syrup is a big deal

I always knew that Vermont was a big maple syrup producer so it stands to reason that nearby Quebec would be too.  One day last winter we were traveling out to the country to visit a family who lives, literally, in the middle of nowhere.  It was very cold and the trees had no leaves, so it was easy to spot the long plastic pipes strung from tree to tree.  We didn't know what they were, so we asked the family we were visiting.  They are used to collect the maple syrup from the trees.  The pipes connect to each other and run to a huge collection station, somewhere miles away.  The old movies depicting someone going from tree to tree, tapping into the trunks to get the syrup represent a bygone era.  Now we have these high-tech blue pvc pipes to do the job (sarcasm, if you are a little slow).  There is no question, however, that no matter how they collect it, the syrup truly is divine.  I plan to bring a case of it back with us.
Here is a picture we took today- not really clear, but hopefully it gives one the idea, and a glimpse of the beautiful fall colors we have been enjoying:

Silence is golden?

    Last Saturday we volunteered to take a young mother and her 18-month-old to the Montreal airport, about 2 hours away.  I tried not to be grumpy about it because it was during the second session of General Conference, and to a missionary, young or old, General Conference time is an event to be savored in an undisturbed environment.  Nevertheless, I put aside my initial resentment to do a good deed.  We picked up the young woman and her child and realized, too late, that because they do not have a car, they do not have a car seat.  There was no time to do anything except buckle her into an adult seat belt and hope it all worked out (which it did).  This woman was going to Cuba to presumably pick up another one of her children, a twelve-year-old daughter.  She has been in Quebec for five or six years, but she speaks very little French, and of course no English.  Since I can count to ten in Spanish, and say "hola and adios", and Paul can say "vamonos muchachos" (which I think means "get out of here you boys"- learned from watching spaghetti westerns as a kid) our ride was a very quiet one. Once at the airport, Paul went inside with her and tried to find a Spanish-speaker at her airline counter, Cuban Air.  Wouldn't one imagine that someone at Cuban Air would speak Spanish?  Not so.  Finally an employee said to Paul, in French "How about if I tell you in English and you tell your friend?  Because my Spanish is about as good as your French, but I do speak English." (What a blow to his ego!)  He then told her that would be fine except his friend didn't speak French or English.  Finally, through a series of  hand signals, he helped her realize she must pay for her extra bag, which she did, and then he directed her to the security entrance. We hoped she got on the plane. She had no cell phone.
   This last Saturday night, we drove back to the airport to pick her up.  Her boyfriend wanted to come with us, so again we drove mostly in silence except for the Tabernacle Choir CD I played for part of the trip.  Paul and the guy went into the airport and I went to the cellphone waiting area.  She arrived without incident, but with no 12-year-old daughter.  I do not know what happened, except that she told Paul, in halting French (which I can relate to!) that it was very hot in Cuba and she never wants to return.  We have no idea where she got the money to fly to Cuba and back for she does not work, nor does her boyfriend. She apparently has three children with different fathers, and the other two, other than the baby, are still in Cuba. Why she was planning to just bring the 12-year-old back I do not know.   I wonder where the Elders find these people....   Another adventure in our missionary life.

In the Limelight

    August 30th was our 43rd anniversary.  We had Jaclyn here for the weekend, which, in and of itself, was cause for celebration.  We have missed our family terribly and only Jaclyn has been able to come to see us while we have been here; due, in part to the fact that Quebec, and especially Victoriaville, is understandably less of a draw than Geneva, Switzerland.  But, I digress.
   Saturday, August 30th was the day of an annual branch activity- a corn-husking of sorts.  Due to the fact that Paul had mentioned the Sunday before in his talk that this was to be our anniversary, everyone in the branch knew.  We were really pressed for time that day because we had the food boxes, donated weekly, from the IGA grocery store to sort through and distribute to the 14 or more families who need food every week.  Wouldn't you know that on this particular day, the store gave us about triple what is normal?  We left the Branch activity to rush to the store, pick up the food and bring it back to our apartment to do the sorting.  The young Elders and Jaclyn helped us. We were grateful for  Jaclyn's help!   In the middle of the work, Paul was told by the counselor in the presidency that we really needed to go back to the church, so we left the young missionaries at our apartment and went back.  There we were honored by being presented with a beautiful three-layer cake, made and decorated by the wife of the other counselor.  Everyone sang to us (the same tune as Happy birthday, but in French it is, apparently, used for both birthdays and anniversaries.)  The following day we were also given a huge home-made card, signed by most families in the Branch.
After quickly eating a piece of the cake, we ran back home to finish the food box work.
    In reflecting on this event, I was overwhelmed with a feeling of both gratitude and love for these people.  They don't really know me because I can't communicate with them very well, but I hope they feel my love for them.  They are diligent, hard-working, and humble people trying to live the gospel and be an example of Latter-Day Saints in an area where most people do not share any religious beliefs.  In fact, the government here actually rewards, financially, those who choose to live together rather than marry.  But, I digress, again.  These are really nice people.
    I am truly going to miss our association with those we have come to know.  This kindness shown to us on our anniversary is but a small indication of their goodness.
    Here a couple of pictures that Jaclyn took.  Please try to focus on the cake,  not on the recipients.

The card:  (and no, I don't know how to crop or take a decent picture- remember who my mother was!)

Work, work, work

For the past month, we have been heavily involved with work, of the physical kind.  Basically we have been day laborers, but without being paid (other than a mountainous pile of blessings to us and our family).   Some of the activities we have been doing include putting up a shed, taking it down, and then putting it up again.  After working one day for a few hours to put up the walls of the said shed, we realized the floor was not level.  In fairness to us, we didn't construct the floor. Paul went a few days later and disassembled it and then some men from the church spent a half day re-constructing the floor.  A few days later, Paul and I returned and put up the walls again, and added the doors. Later, we also put on the roof.  I am, of course the invaluable assistant, fetching tools and steadying things while the mastermind assembles.
    At this same home, we also cut down three dead trees and hauled as many of the branches as would fit to a trailer.  Because we are not permeant residents, we couldn't take the load to the dump and had to wait until the following Saturday when the owner could do it.  We then hauled more branches to the empty trailer.  One more load awaits us later this week.
   In our spare time from these jobs, we searched for a new apartment for a member of the branch who has terrible allergies and had to move out of her current apartment because she can't smell cooking meat.  This was a new allergy, which suddenly appeared, has been added to the countless others she already has.  She wears bracelets up her arm, warning of life-threatening allergies, including one to cat dander which can cause her to break out in a rash and stop breathing in a matter of minutes.  The restrictive situation she required made our search time-consuming, but we were able to find an upstairs apartment with just the owner living below.  The former tenant had had a cat, but the owner assured us he had painted everything.  Just to be sure, Paul and I went over before she moved in, or even came to the apartment and washed all the windows and blinds, all surfaces inside and out of the cabinets, and put contact paper on the shelves. We also washed all the baseboards, some of the walls, etc.  We hung heavy plastic over an unfinished portion of a closet.  She still had and continues to have some problem with the allergy, but we are hopeful it will dissipate over time (apparently the dander will lose its allergens after a year).
    After the cleaning, it was time to do the actual move.  The young elders did much of the heavy lifting,  along with some young men, so we were able to preserve our fragile backs.  Paul had three dressers and two armoires to assemble. Once again I was the ever-attentive assistant. Her old apartment was 25 minutes from Victoriaville so we added some more miles to our vehicle.  I was just grateful for the beautiful weather which made the moving so much more pleasant.  I am already fearing our own move out of here in mid-December.  Maybe we will be lucky and have a mild winter!
   Once she was settled, we spent some time to help paint the apartment of another branch member who was moving to a larger apartment.  We also have helped her do some of the moving.
   Wew!  Not bad for two old people with bad backs and other physical ailments, huh?

"After 50 it is just patch, patch, patch"

   I haven't written much because, honestly, we haven't been doing much missionary work.  Paul came down with what we thought was a normal old virus, if there is such a thing, but it quickly turned into a rather deep cough.  Because he has had pneumonia a couple of times, we thought we should seek some medical advice, which means a drive to Vermont.  I also developed, overnight, a rash on my arms and something weird on my lower legs, so off to the urgent care in Burlington we went.  Paul was diagnosed with bronchitis, and my rash was probably a reaction to sun, although I have never had that before.  The dots on my legs required a blood test to ensure that it wasn't something serious, which it wasn't, although they couldn't really say what had caused it.  Oh, it is so fun to be in one's 60's and have the excitement of new health issues popping up often!  The quote in the title is something Marjorie Hinckley, the prophet's wife, used to say often, and it is extremely apropos.
    Anyway, we were confined to the apartment for about 10 days while Paul recovered.  Wouldn't you know the weather was glorious the whole time, warm and sunny with a nice breeze.  A few times we went on a ride, just so that I wouldn't go stark raving mad.  I pumped him and me up with vitamins and some essential oils (snake oil is what Paul calls it), but the pesky cough hung on and on.  Finally he was pretty much recovered and then it was my turn!  I haven't been nearly as sick as he was, but we have continued to take it easy so I can, hopefully, improve more quickly.  A two-bedroom apartment feels pretty small after a few days of confinement, let me tell you.  After reading Preach My Gospel ad nauseam, and of course, the Book of Mormon,  I worked on my personal history and started a biography of Henry Eyring.   We are very, very hopeful that by tomorrow I will be much improved!
 

Missing the good in my country

    July 4th!   Today I am thinking of all the barbecues, parades, and fireworks that will take place in my native country.  I love all of the fanfare that accompanies most of our American holidays, and especially on the 4th of July I am proud to be an American. It is rather strange that even though we are less than 3 hours from the U.S. border, we truly are very much in a foreign country.  Canadians, at least those in Quebec, don't seem to care much about national holidays.  They have several that resemble ours, i.e., Canadian Thanksgiving, a holiday to remember their dead similar to Memorial Day, and on July 1st it was Canada Day, which commemorates "Canada's 1867 Confederation".  However, I saw very little excitement or celebration with any of these three.  Earlier this week I asked a native from here about Canada Day. "Oh, we don't really care about that." I read that this attitude prevails here in the province of Quebec because many, if they had their druthers, would like to secede from the rest of Canada. Thus, they feel little allegiance to the rest of the nation.  How different from the national pride most U.S. citizens feel for the United States, even when the government isn't necessarily functioning as we would like it to function.  We celebrate with huge parades, flag-waving, fireworks in every community, big or small.  I saw none of that here last Tuesday.  About the only evidence of a holiday was that there was no mail delivery.  We held our normal English class that evening, and while our numbers were fewer, those who came just shrugged and indicated that this holiday was no big deal.
    In fairness, I must mention that on June 24th it was Sainte Jean Baptiste Day in Quebec.  We were gone, but apparently this is a fairly big deal.  No one from here I talked to could tell me why it is called that, but with a little help from google, I found that this was originally a French religious holiday which has now become a provincial one here in Canada. Because of the Catholic and French influence here it has remained one of the biggest of the year, although, as I said, no one I talked to knew why it is called Sainte Jean Baptiste day, and there is nothing religious about it anymore.
    Besides being "Canada's Birthday" (as it is sometimes called), July 1st , at least here in Victoriaville, is apparently the annual "moving day".   I was told by members of my English class that this is the day when people like to change residences, especially apartments.  Landlords prefer annual leases that run from July 1, for some reason, so everyone who wants to move, does it on this day.  The Elders here spent their day in helping three families move.  Piles of unwanted stuff can be seen outside of buildings on the edge of the street. Its been there since Tuesday so I don't know when it will be removed or by whom.

     From these photos one can see that I inherited my mother's skills in photography- tons of pavement with the item of interest far in the distance.  I would ask Paul to edit them but he is really sick- sorry.

Advisor

    One duty that I have been given while here is to help advise young missionaries on medical issues when the mission president's wife is unavailable.  While far from having any medical training, I did raise 6 children, and I had three years in Switzerland doing this very thing.  There I had to assess, among hundreds of other situations, whether an Elder should go home due to a severe shoulder injury (he did and he didn't want to), and if a sister was having an appendicitis attack and needed to go to the hospital (she was and she did).  So, I am happy to help out our dear, over-worked mission president's wife here.  She has eight children of her own, and must attend to all of their needs as well as the 200 plus missionaries, some of whom like to call because they have a slight headache.  I had to laugh one day, however, when I received a call from a sister missionary who said, "Hello, Sister Peterson, I hear you are a nurse." Thus, an example of the infamous missionary grapevine, the source of many missionary myths. I wouldn't be surprised to have someone ask me sometime where I got my medical degree.
     In fulfilling this assignment Paul and I have made three trips to Vermont in the past few months, a voyage of over 3 hours each way for us.  We have taken a sweet little sister to the doctor several times.  I don't think they have really found the source of her ailments, but at least we know it isn't anything urgently serious.  Crossing the border has proved to be an adventure every time, but that is a topic for another post.
    I admit I feel a great deal of pressure when trying to decide if a medical condition is serious or not.  It is a huge responsibility because these are beloved children of parents who have entrusted them to missionary service for 18 months to 2 years.  How would I feel if I told them to go back out and work when in reality they needed to seek immediate medical attention?  I pray for wisdom as I listen to their descriptions:   "Sister Peterson,  I have been coughing really badly for a week."  of "I hit my head on the handle of the freezer and I have sharp pains in my head even though the bump is now gone."   I try to remember that most of the time it really isn't serious; they just need a listening ear. There was one young man who called and said he thought he should go to the hospital 'right now' because he was "really sick".  I tried to pin him down on symptoms but he was vague.  I told him to rest a bit and try to go back out for a couple of hours and see how it went.  I saw him just two  days later at a zone conference and asked him how he was. He looked at me strangely and said, "Huh?' (as in what are you talking about?).  I have to assume he either was never all that sick, or that he now has amnesia.  
    No photos this time, but perhaps I should take a "selfie" of me in a white lab coat, drawing blood from Paul's arm.

Good to feel Good

    A week or so ago Paul had a really bad cold and we stayed in the apartment for several days.  Although it was only three days, it felt like an eternity since this isn't a huge place and we don't have much to do in it.  But, he is back to his old (used literally) self and this week we have been busy- which is just what we love.   Nothing like being sick to make one appreciate feeling good.
   Yesterday we helped prepare and serve dinner to the unemployed in Victoriaville.  Apparently there are no homeless as we have in the U.S., probably because they would literally freeze to death in a few minutes in the winter, so those who would  normally be on the streets are called "the unemployed".  I am assuming the government provides housing for these individuals, which is where some of the sales tax (15% on everything!!!!) goes.  Anyway, our little branch of the church here in Victoriaville volunteers once a year to provide one of these meals.  I cut up peppers, onions, and tomatoes for at least 90 minutes yesterday afternoon; when my back got tired, I enlisted Paul, who I do not believe had ever cut up a pepper before in his life.  He became fairly proficient so from now on I'll know where to turn.
     We went by a sister's home to pick up her food contribution and on to the church to wait for the others to bring theirs.  We loaded the car with the food, large bowls, utensils, and whatever else we thought might be needed.  We then headed to the place where the meal would be served.  We fed meatloaf, rice pilaf, salad and cake to 52, (or more) very appreciative individuals.  We did this without benefit of a kitchen or even a source of water except for the women's bathroom. It was a challenge, but we did it.  We had the help of the girl who spear-headed the activity, plus the young missionaries and a couple of branch members.  I then brought most of the dirty dishes home and washed them while Paul was at his branch presidency meeting last night.   It felt good to be doing good. And, the service was invaluable in helping people know who we are.  We forgot to take pictures of us in acton, but we did get this one. It is the notice which the director wrote to let the unemployed know about the meal:  

Basically it says "You are invited to a dinner respectfully, graciously prepared by members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints".  (translation is loose; please excuse my French, as they say!)  I think this is exactly the kind of activity missionaries should be involved with, and falls well within the "anxiously engaged in a good cause" category.

Doings

    I am not really sure if "doings" makes sense but oh well. Mom will be clicking her tongue up there in heaven and saying I should use the thesaurus ( she loved using the obscure words she found there).
    I was going to post this as "comings and goings", but realized that right now we aren't doing much of these.  Paul is quite sick with what I hope is just a head cold, but he is on day 3 and doesn't seem to be improving.  I tried every natural remedy I know including large doses of vitamin C, ginger root tea, and the netty pot.  Because of his heart medication he can't take any decongestant or antihistamine, so he is really miserable.  I have been spending my time trying to watch what he touches and disinfecting it because I do not want to get sick.
   Having so much time on my hands while Paul rests is stretching my creativity.  To my children who are consumed with work, child-rearing, sports and games, scouts, "Trek", homework, social activities, and relay races, this will seem as foreign as it gets. I remember as a young mother wishing for just a little time to do something I wanted to do.  Now that I am here it is less appealing and more of a burden.  It is true I am somewhat curtailed in what I can do for two reasons:   1) I am on a mission, and have a few rules to follow, and 2) I can't speak the language here well enough to go out much on my own. I have studied French for hours, listened to General Conference talks, written in my journal, crocheted, and even watched a few wholesome Hallmark movies online.  I will look back on these past 3 days with longing someday, I am certain.
    We are mentoring a young man who has, up to this point in his nearly 24 years, never set goals nor planned for the future other than the coming weekend.  We have been meeting with him twice a week and helping him set some goals he can achieve, and having him listen to some positive thinking CD's.  He says he wants to go on a mission, but at 24, he needs to hustle it up a bit.  We hope we are making some progress. He says he is keeping on track with our weekly reading assignment for the Book of Mormon.  We can't really know for sure if he is doing this, because when Paul asked him to list things "he is good at", one was, "I am a good lier."  He clarified that he meant only to his parents, but if he is that good at it, who knows?  He is a nice boy and I would like to see him make something of himself (as Helen Ann was known to say).
    In the past month or so we drove to Burlington, Vermont three times. It is out of our mission boundaries but there are certified U.S. doctors there who will take U.S. insurance, and yes, who speak English, and you can get an appointment in less than six months and don't have to wait four hours to be seen (all of which is not possible in Quebec).  We took a young sister missionary twice and I saw a doctor myself once.  It was funny how excited I was to be back in the U.S.  Seeing a Five Guys hamburger place thrilled me.  Despite all the problems in our government right now, I am proud to be an American. When we leave the Canada, Paul uses his American passport.  When we re-enter, he goes in on his Canadian one. This is necessary because he was not given a visa when we came because, they reminded him, he is a Canadian citizen.  The last time we re-entered, the official questioned our U.S. vehicle and even threatened to charge a tax on it.  He wanted proof that we lived permanently in the U.S. He was dumbfounded when we produced the American passport; he had to go ask someone about it.
   We are teaching a missionary preparation class every Sunday afternoon to about 8 members of our branch.  Mostly these are 17-24 year-olds-, but we even have a couple who anticipates a senior mission in a couple of years. We have had one class so far, due to the Easter holiday, but it is fun to be with them. I love being with young adults.  Of course, if Paul isn't better, and I have to teach, it will be a very short class tomorrow!
    Remember the picture I put in the blog of a snowman in a yard, installed in his spot in October?  His head eventually came out of the snow (yes, it was that deep!), and he was removed from the yard this week.
   Here are a couple of pictures of our Soirée de film (movie night).  This is what senior missionaries do, i.e., pop and bag 60 bags of popcorn:

All these candy bars were free from the IGA where we collect food every Saturday.  The trick was having the discipline not to eat them before we had the move in night.

Feasting

     Those of you who know me probably think I am going to write a piece on the delights of feeding my face.  I could do that, for it is one of my favorite activities.  However, I thought that I would like to document a recent spiritual feast that we enjoyed.
     On March 22, all of the missionaries in our mission were gathered together in one stake center.  This, in and of itself, is highly unusual because the church leaders don't like to have large groups of missionaries in one place, for safety, and other reasons, probably having to do with having a large group of barely-older-than-scouts assembled in relatively small quarters.  But when an apostle tells a mission president to do it, he quickly obeys. While in Switzerland, we sent as request to the area presidency to allow us to gather all the missionaries for a  Christmas zone conference- denied.   However, two months later, Elder Bednar was traveling in Europe and he told us to have all the missionaries come to Geneva.  It was a great experience.
    We were told in February that an apostle was coming in March, but we were not told who it would be.  Just a few days before, we were told it was Elder Neil L. Andersen. Along with him, and his wife, Elder Causé of the presiding bishopric would be coming, and Elder Holmstrom, one of the presidency of the seventy.  Not sure why we merited all of these, but it was a treat.  Wow--were we all excited!  We were not disappointed.
   Elder Andersen and the others took the time to shake everyone's hand. He said visiting General Authorities try to do this because it symbolically reminds all of us that the Lord knows each of us individually. Elder Andersen didn't recognize me (it had been 25 years since we knew them in Florida) but when he saw Paul he knew who he was immediatley.  I suppose I could cry that I am the one who is now unrecognizable, but I won't.   I got a big hug from Kathy, and both of them mentioned us in their remarks later that morning.  We felt a little 'special' for a few minutes.
    The surprising thing about the visit was that none of the General Authorities spoke about how to be a better missionary, or how we can find people to teach, or how to be more obedient, or any of the "normal" topics one might expect in a missionary meeting.  We were simply given wonderful insights and  ideas--those "nuggets" which can boost and inspire.  And thus, all of us came away with a greater commitment to be a better missionary.
    Now, today,  we await another opportunity to hear the word of the Lord for us, so needed in these troubled and also exciting last days.  For a missionary, the anticipation of General Conference is similar to Christmas.  Can't wait!    
   I must mention that when we went into the meeting on March 22nd there were a few snow flakes;  when we left 2 hours later we had 6 inches of heavy snow to navigate through.  Ugh.

A pain in the neck, and Spring???

    One of the joys of being "middle-aged", or maybe "late middle-aged",  is the appearance of new-found aches and pains.  One can go to bed feeling just fine and awake the next morning with some new irritation which sometimes leaves you incapacitated.  On other occasions a slight twist or turn develops into a real crisis.  Such was the case with me during the past couple of weeks.  Last week I awoke from a fairly good night's rest to lower back pain, accompanied by tingling and numbness in my foot.  I have had this before so I knew the best course of action is ice packs and rest. A couple of days of this and I was much better.  Monday and Tuesday this week I exercised in the morning, but didn't push myself.  However, as I was putting dinner on the table for the young Elders Tuesday evening (we feed them every Tuesday), I felt a light pop in my upper back.  Immediately it began to hurt, and as time went on it became full-out spasms, very  painful. I went to the church to teach my English class, but knew before it started that I wouldn't make it.  A nice member of the church who was at the meetinghouse, offered to drive me home;  Paul stayed to teach both mine, and his class combined.  Now, after a full day of rest and Tylenol, I am feeling much better.  Who knows what brought this on?  Perhaps it was the lifting of heavy dishes from a bottom cupboard at church on Sunday for the potluck, or the lying on the floor with the vacuum hose to clean under the fridge on Monday? (That was a site to see, I am sure!) Whatever the cause, I have spent part of the last two weeks "laid up" as they say, and none too happy about it.
    I try not to dwell too much on the weather, but given that today is the first day of spring I thought I would share a couple of photos I took this morning from our apartment.  Our branch president's wife told us recently that Quebec has three springs:  white, (because it is still snowing); brown (when the rains come and melt all that white stuff), and green (when we will really see grass and a few flowers).

 The above is taken from our sliding glass door to the street- yes, it is snowing.

 See these piles of snow outside our front door--those will one day (apparently) melt into masses of brown yukky-ness.

This is the parking lot of our complex.  This also happens to be our neighbor's truck, which Paul covets.
HAPPY SPRING!!!!!      

Icey

About a month ago we took a little trip on our preparation day to visit  L'hotel de glace (the Ice Hotel).  This is a relatively famous place near Quebec City.  Every winter (probably in late November) when there is enough snow (yes, definitely November!) a structure is erected, made entirely of ice. I had heard about it and wanted to see to so my companion (he's eternal) accommodated me.  The day we went was sunny, which in the province of Quebec, in the winter, translates into very cold.  Fitting to see the Ice Hotel. For a fairly decent price we were admitted.  We walked down "hallways"  which are open on each end to the outside.  No need to keep the cold wind out.  The rooms were open so we could go into as many as we wanted to.  Each had an ice bed, (that is ice, not nice) with a foam mattress and a coverlet on top.  Absolutely not sufficient for an night's stay, but I had read that if you want to spend the night you should dress very warmly (duh) and bring warm sleeping bags. A couple of them had a heater of some sort, but for the size of the room, insufficient.  There were no doors, just curtains over the entrances, so no privacy.  Of course the guests would be so wrapped up in heavy clothing and blankets, etc., just trying to survive, that there would be no need for privacy.  Most of the rooms have some kind of design cut into the walls of ice:  we saw a representation of Easter Island,  animals, horses and other themes.  There was a large gathering area where you could buy a drink in a totally ice glass.  I saw some people drinking these, but I couldn't imagine it given how cold it was. There was also a glass slide where you climb some glass stairs and can slide from the top-- we saw some children having a good time on this.  I do not know how much a room goes for, and I assume those with elaborate ice carvings in the wall would be more expensive, but it was certain that no one had requested a late check-out time.  Oh, and did I mention that none of the rooms had bathrooms?  There were two Don-Jons out front where, if nature calls, you better be quick about it or you will be found frozen solid the next morning.  I read about the hotel on the internet (so it has to be true), and they do have individuals who want to experience spending a night there.  I was happy to visit for a half hour or so, and then hurry back to my warm car, which has heated seats...  

 

The Strength of Youth

   One of the true highlights of being on a mission is spending time with the young missionaries.  In most cases, they are powerhouses in every sense of the word.  They work hard every day and they are fearless in talking to everyone.  Here in Victoriaville, we have come to know and love these young missionaries.  So far we have had five different missionaries in this city and when they have been transferred it has been so hard to say good-bye.
   Every week we attend District Meeting in a city about 45 minutes from here. We take the young elders with us to save them "clicks, which are the allowable miles they can use each month.  By riding with us, they have more to use on other days to get to appointments. At District Meeting we are instructed on differing aspects of missionary work by the District Leader, a young man about 20 years old.
  In addition to District Meetings, about once a month we go to a zone meeting where the zone leaders also teach about how to be more effective missionaries.  We attended one of these meetings this week. The zone leaders  gave a great presentation, and then two sets of sister missionaries also taught.  As when I was in Switzerland and France, I was once again reminded of how very capable, committed, and loving these young leaders are.  As I looked around the room at the 40 or so missionaries sitting in a large circle, I thought about what a privilege it is to associate with them.  We might be sacrificing a little bit, but these young men and women are taking eighteens months to two years out of their busy young lives, putting their educational, career, and personal relationships on hold while they attempt to find those who will listen to their message about our beliefs.  In addition, I reflected on the thousands of other similar gatherings of missionaries all over the world.  They willingly go door-to-door and have those doors slammed in their faces every day. Once in awhile someone listens, and lets them come back for another lesson.  Every now and then someone is willing to make the necessary changes in his or her life required for baptism, and what a great day that is for the missionaries. The amazing thing is, however, that even though there aren't many who will make those changes, the missionaries cheerfully keep on working and trying.  Associating with them always lifts us to a higher plane…
  This was our District in December.  We had missionaries from Switzerland, Denmark, Vanuatu, and the U.S.

Together Twenty-Four Seven

I, for one, think the media has done a number on us with Valentine's Day.  The elusive "they"  will make you feel like a failure at love if you haven't spent thousand's of dollars or oodles of time on the most fabulous gift ever dreamed of for the one you love.  Well, being on a mission with the "one  you love" is the perfect way to give the most fabulous gift ever.  I believe this because it requires such virtues as patience, understanding, and charity, and it requires this every day, every hour for the entire length of your mission.  You are never alone.  Missionary apartments, while generally nicer than those lived in by the young missionaries., are far from spacious.  This means you  probably have to be really creative to find some solitude.  When out of the apartment you are still together: at the grocery store, at appointments, getting a hair cut, etc. etc. You visit people "ensemble".
   In contemplating this togetherness we have had for the last six months, I realized I have developed a significant increase in patience, and understanding.  It is the little things that can get to you.  Here is an example:  every time we go somewhere Paul dutifully locks the car;  this is good, and responsible. He does this every single time, so why, oh why, does he always try to door handle when we return to our vehicle?   I have learned not to mention it, but I admit it has required much patience.  Another example:  Paul needs to take a pill every day about 3 p.m.  For 5 months he forgot about fifty percent of the time.  He asked me to remind him, so I set a daily reminder on my phone.  I now ask him daily, and he still forgets.  I am trying to be understanding. One more:  we always leave early enough to get to an appointment on time.  And at least half the time we have no set time of arrival.  Why must he drive as fast as he can on icy and snowy roads, making my heart race? And lastly:  because I don't speak French well enough to converse on the phone he has to do the calling.  I will remind him of a call (or sometimes an email) that needs to be made/written.  He quickly agrees.  Hours later I will ask if it has been done.  He often says "No".  He rarely offers an excuse. Irritating.  I know he has his own list of small irritations, for example,  he thinks I take an inordinate amount of time to get out of the car. (He doesn't have get his purse or other items; and that house key is in there somewhere. He just jumps out. )
   As one can see, I am still working on the virtue of charity…
   For the most part, I can honesty say that we never argue ( a few minor disagreements is all) and we genuinely like being with each other.  We have our own little routines and when involved with these we have learned to stay out of each other's way-at least as much as one can stay out of another's way in a small apartment.  It is great to set and accomplish goals together.  It is indescribable when we teach someone and feel the Sprit there.  It is fulfilling to know we are serving and working on something that is not only worthwhile but really important and we are doing it together all day, every day, for 18 months.            

The elevator effect

When we were on our mission in Switzerland and training missionaries, we would often warn them to avoid the "elevator effect." It is a real problem in missionary work, and we have fallen victim to it.  What happens is this:  missionaries find and begin teaching investigators.  They fill up their calendars with lessons with a few, very receptive individuals.  These people progress each week, and the missionaries are happy to be teaching them regularly and seeing their progress.  Unfortunately, eventually these select people either get baptized or decide it isn't for them. Either way, the lessons come to an end. Unless the missionaries have been carefully planning for the future by continuing to find new investigators, they can be left empty-handed so-to-speak, with nothing to do.  This was what happened to us.  We had been busily teaching several individuals the temple preparations classes, as well as some other lessons, and had them set goals to attend the temple, as well as some other things.  We finished these classes and the members have completed the goals they set with us, and have gone on to set other, personal goals which do not include our help.  We "rode the elevator" to the top floor and got off. All of a sudden we faced two weeks with relatively nothing to do--not a pleasant situation for young or old missionaries.  We are now back at the bottom and are having to start over. It was a lesson learned with difficulty, and one that could be applied to all of our goals in life.  Because we should set goals with the confidence that we will accomplish them, we should also prepare well in advance for what we want to work on next. We are hopeful that this coming week will be better!

This is what its all about! (Thought this was already published)

    Friday night we drove to the Montreal Temple with Gisele.  She has been working diligently to prepare herself to go inside to receive the special blessings which come to those who are worthy.  The day was not without its opposition.  Gisele suffers from severe headaches among other health ailments, and she takes 24 pills a day (or perhaps a few more). This number has actually decreased in the past year from her record of 60 something.  From time to time, she has paralysis on one side of her face and of course, Friday was one of those days. and of course, there was a "tempete" which means storm.  There was snow and blowing snow.  All in all, it was an awful weather day.   However, she has great faith and knew nothing was going to keep her from going to the temple on December 20, 2013.  She asked for a blessing before we began our two hour drive, and within an hour or so she was beginning to feel some improvement.  Due to some unforeseen circumstances, mostly due o the weather, everything went slowly and we didn't leave to drive home until close to 11 p.m.  And it was still snowing.  By the time we dropped her at her apartment, the paralysis was nearly gone and she felt much better.
   On the way home, we noticed a young woman, perhaps 20 years old, standing on the side of the road.  It was 1:15 a.m., and a mere 14 degrees, and yes, it was snowing.  She was hitch-hiking! While we normally don't pick up hitch-hikers, we did this time.  She wanted to go to Victoriaville, which of course, right where we were headed.  We dropped her off at an apartment building and she said possibly the only two English words she knew:  "thank you."  The way I saw it, we had just come from the temple, we are on a mission, and if we got shot, at least we were in best spot ever for ending up where we all eventually want to end up….
   The weather continues to be an amazement to me.  Today as soon as it got light enough to see (after 7:30 a.m.)  I saw blowing snow and more coming down.  There was about 8 inches, plus that which had drifted.  I have abandoned any notion I once had of wearing fashionable clothing to church. I brought a clunky pair of rubberized boots with me from home--boy do they look nice with a skirt.  Church was postponed for an hour, but no one seemed concerned that the snow had turned to ice pellets, covering all the vehicles with a slick film.  I am so happy that yesterday was the shortest day of the year.  Here in the northland, the sun currently sets at 3:35 and when it is cold and dark, all I want is some hot chocolate and my pajamas. While senior couples have leeway when it comes to the schedule I don't think they had in mind a day that ends at 3:30 :)
    This was this morning just outside our apartment's from door.

   And this was in the parking lot of a member's apartment when we went this afternoon to deliver a Christmas box of food from the branch:

Life is cold, but good!

It isn't all sunshine and roses

This past Thursday we had one of those really "down" days.  We had taken a sister to another city to get her new dentures. This whole process has taken several trips at about an hours' drive each way. We have taught her countless lessons, taken her to doctor's appointments, and to and from the church ( a 20 minute drive each way) many times since August. We have grown very attached to her, and she is a very spiritual person.  She went to the temple for the first time on December 15th.  We drove her in a snowstorm and didn't get home until after 1 in the morning.  We haven't minded doing all this because that is what missionaries do. However, on Thursday as we were returning to her home, she told us that she has decided to quit coming to the church.  She said she had changed she email address; cancelled her cell phone, and she won't answer a knock on her door.  Writing a letter is our only means of communicating.  For the rest of the evening and the next day I felt absolutely disheartened.  I know she is now vulnerable to temptations, loneliness, and negativity because she has cut herself off from all who care about her, and I am truly sad about that.  I also worry about her salvation because she has made sacred covenants, not to be trifled with.  My returned-missionary children assure me that these feelings are common in missionary life, but even so, I am devastated. I keep praying she will have the strength to come back.

Amazing Faith

      I may have written earlier about our friend, Diane.  She has been paralyzed for the past 16-plus years due to a doctor's incompetency.  Her attitude about this is that it was a blessing; if she had not been paralyzed she would have been too busy and maybe too proud to listen to the missionaries.  She grew up in a small village here in Quebec, had no schooling, and began cleaning other people's homes when she was about twelve.  At some point she moved to Toronto to work in a bank.  While there she learned English, which she speaks fluently. (Yea, I can communicate with her!!)  She has a grown son.  Rarely, in our visits to her small apartment, has she been anything but positive and happy.
    Recently she struggled with a cough, which then developed into bronchitis. Being rather immobile except for her electric chair, she didn't improve.  Finally late one night she realized that the hospital was the only option.  I don't want to expound on my political views of socialized medicine, but suffice it to say that here, for the poor anyway, it stinks. One day she asked if I could wash her hair, because to have such a luxury costs extra money.  We have visited her nearly every day for the past 10 days. She seemed to improve a little but on Sunday she was been moved to intensive care and put on a respirator which we would deem not good news.  Before she got worse she told us that she had prayed and "told Heavenly Father that if He could take me, that would be nice.  However, if He wanted me to stay and try to help my son accept the gospel, I will stay."  What faith! Knowing Diane, and having her share her positive attitude about her life despite her difficulties has inspired me to be more appreciative and more anxious to share that gratitude with others.  We pray that she will improve but if she doesn't, I have no doubt that Heavenly Father heard her prayer and took her to Him.

Winter thaw

The past five days have been pretty wonderful because the temperatures have moderated significantly.  Who would have imagined that a temperature of 32 degrees fehrenheit  would bring the comment "Hey, it's really warm today!"  One man came to our English class last night and when I asked him how he was doing he told me he really was not happy because it was raining instead of snowing.  Why so much focus on weather?  Well, for one thing, in a small town like this, there isn't much else to focus on; and for another, one's life in a Quebec winter is dictated by it.  I wanted to share a couple of photos taken during a snow storm a few weeks ago:

And just where do they put all this snow?  It becomes absolutely huge mountains which start out as white but soon become brown and rather ugly, and which we are told make for a big mess come April. These piles are all over:

    Missionary work ebbs and flows and the holidays are typically very slow.  The two elders here lost most of their investigators.  Because we saw this in Switzerland and France, and thus have some perspective, we are trying to keep them positive.  They have been brainstorming of ways to get some people interested.  New ideas will be welcomed if you have any!  

No Hype

   It is January 4th, 2014.  Christmas has past and the meager decorations in our apartment have been packed away for the next senior couple who will reside here.  Our decorations consisted of a 3 foot tree, pre-lighted, with a few clip-on ornaments.  We also had two strings of Christmas lights which we put around our sliding glass door, and a small wooden sign which says "HOPE", given to us by one of our branch members.  I did bring two of my nativity sets, small ones, and very simple. That was it.  It took us about 5 minutes to set up the tree and other items (well, maybe 10 to get the lights to look right around the door), and less than that to put it all away.  I was srtuck this year by how low-key it all was.  The branch had nothing in the meetinghouse to indicate it was Christmas except for three small Christmas trees (no more than 8 inches high) which our dedicated branch librarian found and put on a table.  I admit I wished there had been something to indicate that we, as a congregation, loved the Savior and celebrated His birth. We had a nice Christmas Day with Jaclyn--she opened three small gifts; and Paul and I opened a couple.  I tried to imagine the gift-opening frenzy taking place in other homes.  Ours this year was so serene it made me want to never go back to the stress and hoop-la of years past.  We visited one of our members that afternoon. It was really nice, and so non-commercial.  Have I made my point?  I really liked it.  Sorry I forgot to take a picture!
   However, we came face to face with the loneliness that is reality to many people, especially older singles, during the holidays. Several of our branch members were, quite literally, all alone on Christmas Day.  These are individuals who have adult children, living within driving distance, but who chose not to come to see their mother, or father, on Christmas.  We visited with several of these individuals several times over the week of Christmas and New Year's,  in person and on the phone.  Of course, we were a poor substitute for their loved ones and I had to battle down some feelings of animosity for young adults who were so self-consumed that they couldn't reach out to a lonely parent.  It made me wish I had been better at paying attention to Mom at all times (we did a decent job on holidays), when she was alive.
     Winter is upon us in full fury.  Next post will have pictures and details.