Questions

One day after church, I said to Oscar, "Aren't you ready to get baptized?"

He answered, "Not yet. I still have some questions."

I said, "That's fine. Just don't wait too long." I knew that Oscar and his wife had already set two baptismal dates, then backed out at the last minute. 

A week later, his wife, Aura, came to church by herself. I asked her, "How close are you to getting baptized?"

She answered, "I have a testimony and want to get baptized. But Oscar still has a lot of questions."

I said to her, "Tell him that questions are great. Just let him know that we would love to have the chance to answer his questions."

The following week, both Oscar and Aura Rocito were at church together. After Sunday School, I asked him, "How are things coming? I know you have a lot of questions. Just let me know what they are, and I will try to answer them for you."

He guaranteed me that he would.

Two weeks ago, I saw him again. With a serious expression on his face, he addressed me, "Elder Harris, I have a question for you."

I wondered what he had in mind. I mentally prepared myself to answer a really tough question. "OK," I nervously said, "What's your question?"

"My question is this: Next Sunday would you baptize me?"

"Seriously?" I said.

"Yes. I want you to baptize me next Sunday," he grinned.

On July 16th, Oscar, Aura, and their two daughters, along with the missionaries, Elders Nelson and Cruz, squeezed with us into our five-passenger Toyota to travel to Barbarena for the baptism.

The only other vehicle in our branch is a truck belonging to our branch president. Friends piled into the truck to make the hour long drive and join the Rocitos for the important occasion. 

The baptism was a joyous event for all of us. It was particularly meaningful for me because I wasn't sure if I would get the chance to baptize anyone during my mission in Guatemala.

        
After the baptism was over, everyone climbed back into their vehicles to make the drive back to Pueblo Nuevo Vinas. Almost immediately, the skies opened with a downpour.

The rain stopped just long enough for our soaking wet friends to smile and wave at us as we passed them.

The torrential storm soon started again, turning roads into rivers.

Despite the weather, this was one of the best days of our mission.

Without question.

New Species Discovered

Two new species were discovered in Guatemala this week. The one on the left claims to be 104 years old. The gigantic humanoid on the right exhibits quite a diminished level of intelligence. Shortly after this picture was taken, the large one sadly devoured the little one, proving the old evolution adage of "survival of the fittest."

Angry Clouds and Angry Crowds

For the past three months, the signs on the restroom doors at our branch clearly stated that there was no water inside.

Well, today it rained. The dry season ended. So all was well. Right?

Wrong.
That rain led to plenty of trouble. The water's first target was our Primary room. Within minutes of a torrential downpour, rain began seeping through the overhead light fixtures. Soon it dripped down walls and eventually crept through every weak spot in the ceiling. The primary teacher calmly instructed her students to play outside on the porch (where it was drier). 

Then we placed buckets in strategic locations around the room and began to mop the floor with cleaning rags. Some of the children even helped.

The bathrooms also flooded, which meant that, at last, we definitely had water there. 

Throughout all of this, the smiles on branch members' faces were like rays of sunshine. 

So, our trouble with water was over. Right?

Wrong.

Because of the weather, my husband decided to break an unwritten mission rule. We are encouraged to not give rides to church members; but without our help, a dear sister would have walked several miles to her home, carrying her newborn daughter in the chilly rain. We drove the mother, the infant and two other people home, then returned to Pueblo Nuevo Vinas for the woman's husband. In trying to get back to him, Jay took an unfamiliar narrow road. And I do mean narrow! As he squeezed between a parked car and a high cement curb, our bumper scraped the curb. No big deal. Just a fender bender. We could still drive. Right?

Wrong.

A piece of hard plastic lining from our wheel well lodged around the tire making it impossible for our car to move. Two kind Guatemalan men saw our dilemma and tried to help. Our branch president lived nearby, and also came to our rescue. At least we were surrounded by sympathetic understanding people. Right?

Wrong.

Not if you include the people in the parade. Yes, I said parade. Shortly after our car got stuck in the middle of the road, we looked up to see a crowd approaching us. This Corpus Christi Day procession was led by a priest. Next to him, people carried a huge handheld float. A throng of worshipers followed. Along with umbrellas, they held lit candles and smoking incense. The procession was accompanied by drums, two trumpets and a tuba. As the marching mass tried to maneuver the heavy float past us, they bumped against our helpless Toyota, surrounding it on all sides. Each person seemed to make a point of scowling in our direction. One woman looked at the dumb Norte Americanos who were blocking the procession route and couldn't help giving the universal sign of disgust. She stared straight at Jay, wrinkled up her nose and stuck out her tongue. (I just covered my missionary name badge, kept my window up and door locked.)

Eventually, the parade passed, and the men who were helping us succeeded in getting our car to drive again. An hour and a half later, we were back home safe and sound. All is well that ends well; so next week, come rain or shine, we will be back at Pueblo Nuevo Vinas again. Right?

Absolutely right.


PS (from Jay) - I even made it home in time to celebrate Fathers Day with the other senior missionaries.

PPS (from Jay) - I hope this isn't sacrilegious to say, but I truly wonder if some guardian angel, assigned to the Harrises in Guatemala, wasn't splitting a gut laughing at our awkward dilemma. The timing, the location, the weird twisting of the wheel lining that wouldn't allow our immediate escape, all add up to some pretty suspicious chicanery. Thanks a lot, Dad. Very funny! And happy Fathers Day.

Rolling Forth

In the stake house gymnasium, I put down my portable x-ray machine long enough to ask a young future missionary a question, "How did the missionaries find you?"

He replied, "The missionaries didn't find me. I found them."

Interested, I wanted more details. He said that when he was 14 years old, he asked a classmate of his, "What makes you so different from all of the other boys in our class?"

The young man replied, "I am a Mormon. If you'd like to know more, I'll bring you a Book of Mormon tomorrow."

The next day, his friend brought him a copy of the Book of Mormon, which he soon started to read. As he read, he immediately received a witness of the truthfulness of the Book of Mormon and asked to talk to the missionaries.

His mother gave permission for him to have the missionary lessons, but at the end of the lessons she would not give permission for him to be baptized.

Each day, he would approach his mother and ask her to sign his baptismal permission slip. Each day her response was the same, "Absolutely not."

After many repeated attempts, one morning this young man got up early and knelt down beside his bed and pleaded with Heavenly Father. More than anything else, this young man wanted to get baptized into the Church. He got up from his knees and went into the kitchen. Again he asked his mother for permission. This time her response was dramatically different.

"Sure," she said, "I'd be happy to sign the permission slip for you to get baptized."

With the signed slip, the missionaries immediately baptized him into the Church.

Now, the interesting thing. This young man's mother swears to this day, that she can't remember saying, "yes," or giving permission for him to get baptized. That morning is a complete blank in her memory.

Four years have passed. The young man has remained active in the Church. He now is of age to go on a mission. He again approached his mother, this time about leaving on a mission. Again she replied, "Absolutely not." She emphatically stated, "You have to go to college first."

What she doesn't know is that in the past year, her son had received a patriarchal blessing which told him there are many converts who are waiting for him to teach them and baptize them. He couldn't stand the thought of making those people wait more years to receive the blessings of the gospel. He simply told his mother, "I can't wait! I have to go NOW on a mission."

"You are so stubborn!" she finally said. "I know that no matter what I say, you're going to go on that mission. So go ahead. I give my permission."

Once his dental work is completed, he will submit his mission papers to go serve. 

For the last two weekends, Trudy and I, along with four others of our dental team, have gone on what we call "jornadas."  The first week, we traveled a couple of hours to Amatitlan, then the next Saturday drove four hours to Quetzaltenango to conduct dental screenings on a total of almost 100 future missionaries. Like this young man, these soon-to-be missionaries are an impressive bunch.

 As I took x-rays on each one, I would ask, "How long have you been a member of the Church?" The responses ranged from six months to four or five years, but almost every joven (young person) was a recent convert to the Church. Most of these young men and women will be called to serve in Central America, but some of them will teach people in faraway places like Africa, Asia, the United States and more. The work of the Restoration is rolling forth and beginning to fill the whole earth.

Future missionaries waiting in the hall

Elder and Sister Clason handling the paper work

Elder (Dr.) Hogge taking x-rays in the gymnasium.

After the jornada, the future missionaries travel to our clinic
to have their dental work done. Can you tell by the smile
on this girl's face that she just had her 4 wisdom teeth
removed?

Mother's Day

On Saturday May 13, we celebrated Mother's Day. In keeping with tradition, the men in the Pueblo Nuevo Vinas Branch cooked for the women.

Jay gave a rose to each sister in the branch.

We had a party with music,

food,

and fun.

On Sunday, the Elders gave Trudy some Mother's Day chocolate.

Elders Nelson and Stephen with Trudy

We got to call all of our children on the phone. It was a great weekend.

The Delivery

With our car loaded with blankets, booties and onezies, we pulled into the hospital parking lot in Cuilapa. At one end of the low cement building, I noticed a single word written in peeling red paint, "Morgue." I was relieved that we entered the other end of the building.

When our friend, Ellen Clayson, first asked Jay and me to accompany her and her husband, Jeff, to deliver newborn kits, the activity seemed like a fun diversion. I imagined handing carefully packed kits to proudly beaming mothers in clean beds. I liked the idea of sweet babies going to their homes in cute color-coordinated outfits. I had heard stories of babies going home wrapped only in newspapers; but the babies of Cuilapa would not do that today.

Even before we entered the hospital, however, we were met by a volunteer who informed us that fourteen women would not have babies with them. Some of these women had developed life-threatening infections after taking their newborns home. The rest of the childless women were mothers of babies who had died. I thought of how our friends, Mary Lou and Dee Whittier, had bought lambing lights to give to another hospital so that newborns there would not die of hypothermia. With no money for fancy incubators, Elder Whittier, a veterinarian, remembered that heat lamps keep baby lambs alive. For twenty dollars per lamp, Elder and Sister Whittier had saved lives. I wondered if a twenty-dollar lambing lamp could have saved any of the babies in Cuilapa.

Sister Clayson's thoughts seemed more about the task at hand. She assured the volunteer that we had brought enough other appropriate packets to give to the grieving mothers.

In the first room we entered, three childless women lay in their beds, sobbing quietly. One woman asked us to pray with her. The other two soon made the same request. We all bowed our heads and closed our eyes as three prayers were said in Spanish.

In a much larger room, we saw rows of beds with tattered stained sheets or no sheets at all. In most of the beds, mothers lay cuddling or nursing their babies. Occasionally, a bed held only a mother; no baby. In this hospital there is no nursery. The maternity ward consists of a large Pepto-Bismol pink room with chipped floors and cracked walls. Other than Jay and Elder Clayson, the only men in this room were doctors or medical students. Upon entering, I followed Sister Clayson's lead and busily passed out zip-lock baggies containing a blanket and clothing set for each child--pink or purple for hijas, blue or green for hijos. Gifts of toiletries and a candle were for those women without children.

In a far corner, one young woman cried uncontrollably. Jay said a prayer with her, but she was not consolable. Her baby had just died that morning. She cried so hard she could barely breathe.

I ached for her. I felt helpless and unable to communicate the feelings of my heart. Then, a thought came to me. "Tell her that her baby is in heaven," I whispered to Jay.

He relayed the message in Spanish.

Then I whispered other things. "Tell her that her child is sweet and innocent and has never done anything wrong. God knows her child is sinless because her child has never sinned. Her baby is now in heaven with God, a Heavenly Father who loves that child very much."

The woman stopped crying and looked into Jay's eyes.

"Tell her that she will see her child again in the next life," I whispered.

When Jay told her this, a faint peaceful smile came to her face.

Later that morning as we were leaving, I said to Sister Clayson, "Look at that woman in the corner who is smiling. She was crying earlier today because she lost her baby only a few hours ago.

Sister Clayson was amazed that this young mother could smile.

The message that Jay delivered was far more important to her than any bag of toiletries. I think that this dear grieving woman may have been desperately afraid of where her unbaptized child's spirit would go. I also believe that when she heard of God's eternal plan of happiness, the Holy Ghost bore witness to her of its truthfulness. The Holy Ghost comforted this young mother in her time of deep sorrow.

Good Friday

Early on Good Friday morning, we watched as worshipers in Antigua, Guatemala, worked tediously to create colorful carpets. Towns people worked for hours on the intricate details, knowing all along that within minutes these amazing carpets would be utterly destroyed.

The carpets (alfombras) were made of sawdust,
flower petals and vegetation of all kinds.

Some artists designed their carpets completely 
by hand and used only parts of freshly picked plants.

Some artists used stencils,
 sand and colored sawdust. 

Alfombras stretched block after block
covering the cobblestone streets in 
preparation for a parade commemorating 
the Passion, Crucifixion and 
Resurrection of Jesus Christ.

Along with other reverent spectators, we watched 
long processions walk slowly through town. 
Thousands of purple-robed men carried 
heavy andas (floats) bearing statues of 
Christ or the Virgin Mary.

The feet of those who walked in the procession
were cushioned by the freshly created carpets,
which were destroyed as the
parade passed over them.

Before - beautifully arranged.

After - crushed and scattered.

Witnessing the sights and hearing the sounds of this annual Catholic celebration will be something that we and the other senior Mormon missionaries will never forget.