Home is Where the Spirit Is

This was a very lovely week. One of the highlights was getting to have a Sister Training Leader Meeting with Sister Reynolds and the other seven lovely STLs in the mission. We learned a lot and gained a lot of advice, and moreover were able to eat Cafe Rio-style pork barbacoa salads. It was quite tasty if I do say so myself.

Polaroid of the Rego Park 2 District

What was sad is that our mission nurse Sister Petersen is leaving and we all (the mission) made notes which Sister McDowell and Sister Reeves combined into a precious binder to give to her. We walked over and took our notes to her which was a bit heart breaking, but I know that she will also enjoy her life back in Utah. We will just miss her quite a lot here in New York. <\3

We got a few New Investigators this week and one of the investigators had lovely music playing in the background of our lesson. All of the music seemed to correspond with what we were saying as well. So it was an epic, dramatic, lesson.

Another New Investigator had a daughter than enjoyed pulling hair, hitting newborn babies, and pushing cats off of chairs. While slightly unfortunate, everyone made it out of the lesson only slightly frazzled and mostly alive.

Food Recommendations: Have you ever tried the tamales on 82nd? They have salsa verde, salsa roja, dulce, queso, picante, and every kind you could ever want. They are also authentically Mexican, and one of the hands-down most amazing things I have ever had the pleasure to eat in my life. I love tamales, though. If you are ever in Jackson Heights or Corona (not the beer, the city), I would animate you to try them. You'll never go back. (Can you animate someone to try something in English? Is that proper English?)

Exchanges with Sisters Amaro and Stubbs were quite excellent. They are wonderful, hard-working sisters. Training companionships are the best companionships. :) I'm only slightly partial to my two experiences.

Exchanges!!

Funny Story:

We often teach families in which the children of the Spanish-speaking parents speak little to no Spanish. In this case we frequently teach in English for the benefit of the kids. In one such circumstance we were reading a story in the Book of Mormon about Nephi and his brothers going back into Jerusalem to get the golden plates. Now, in English Nephi is pronounced phonetically nē´fī. Now keep in mind that his mother is Hispanic and they go to church in Spanish. In Spanish Nephi is spelled Nefi and is pronounced Ne-fee. 'Ne' as in the first sound in 'Nettles' and fee as in '*Fee* fie foe fum I smell the blood of an Englishman.'

We all take turns reading and when we get to Nephi's name Sister Platt and I pronounced it the English way. The moment I said Nephi's name the little boy Phillip (name changed) turned around and said, "why do you say Nephi? It's Nefi." I corrected myself and we continued to take turns reading. The next time Sister Platt tripped up and Phillip muttered under his breath, "It's Nefi." Unfortunately I slipped up yet again a while later and Phillip said, "I just don't understand! Why do you keep saying Nephi? It's Nefi!" We explained apologetically that we were just really bad at pronouncing his name and that it was our fault. He looked very impatient and told us we ought to learn how to properly pronounce it.

My face when the elevator is broken and we live on the sixth floor.

More sad faces

Miracles?? Well, we somehow always manage to pray really hard on the weekends when we aren't hitting our goals, and then we hit them. But in terms of something that touched me was this week is that I had the impression to walk down a street that a Less Active from Otavalo lived in, and we not only saw him and his family, but a member who had just moved here from Ecuador. He saw us out of the corner of his eye and sprinted to meet us and asked us where the church was. We gave him the address, and he came to church and as he was looking at the paintings he said, "I really miss the spirit here. It's home." I know that home isn't necessarily a specific place, but home is the feeling of the spirit. Because our true home is with God, and when we feel the spirit, we are with God even if for just a moment. I know this church is true.

Love,

Hermana Ally Voss