A dangerously acute account of 18 months in Nicaraguan Territory.
Welcome to this week’s installment of “life in the shoes of Hermana Beatty” Or as some have lovingly called it, “the World’s favorite Mormon Soap Opera”. Our objective this evening is to give you a wonderful experience reading this newsletter, while adding a little Nicaraguan Zest to spice things up.
As of late, I’ve been reading and studying the Isaiah chapters in Nephi. What really prompted me to do this is the counsel of our Savior that we should search the teachings of Isaiah. I’ve really learned a lot more than anything. I’ve increased my desire to say “There’s a double meaning in that!” (Name that Shakespeare play if you can) Every verse I read still leaves me a little confused and perplexed but I know that one day everything that this amazing prophet said will be very clear to us. This past week was quite busy. We had many events occur, one of which was the entrance of two souls into the waters of Baptism! Wahoo! There is just so much to this story that I don’t even know where to begin. How about a description of the baptismal candidates? First, Guadalupe: Forty-seven years old, really kind, loves coming to church, washes clothes for a living, may not be totally all there, but she understands and feels the difference when the Spirit is there and when it’s not. So, we’ll just say she was ready to be baptized. And then there is Zachary: nine years old, daughter of a recent convert, extremely shy, goes to church every Sunday, extremely disobedient. If we were looking at a checklist of baptismal requirements she was ready. But as a little girl, she was extremely nervous. We got to the baptismal service and first she didn’t want to take pictures. Then when we finally started the program, her aunt whispered in our ears, “my sister is leaving with her daughter…go!” So we raced down the halls and stopped them. The mom was crying, Zachary was just standing there, my companion was yelling, so I just started singing “Families can be together forever” until everyone stopped yelling and crying. Then a loving member took Azchary by the hand and asked, “do you want to be baptized?” she nodded, “Let’s go then.” We walked back in just as they were finishing the prayer we listened to a few testimonies and then came the time for the ordinances. Zachary bravely followed Hermoano Padilla into the cold water and he did the ordinance. BUT her dress didn’t go all the way under. They went to go do it again, but she just shook her head and walked up, out of the font and into the bathroom. I’ve never gotten so sick so fast in my entire life. I felt like the whole world was spinning, my head was about to explode, and my internal organs were being smacked by an invisible pancake spatula. And all this for one little girl! Our stake president quickly took over and started doing the other baptisms for Guadalupe and others while we entered the bathroom. There was Zachary, standing in the corner, looking miserable in her wet white dress. Little by little we coaxed her back to the font so she could see the other ordinances and in the end, she went willingly into the font, this second time to be baptized by complete immersion. We were so happy…stressed, but happy!
The following day was THANKSGIVING! A Happy late one to y’all. Because we have the coolest stake president in Nicaragua, he invited all the Gringa missionaries to his house for a dinner that was definitely not even close to a normal Thanksgiving dinner. I guess we’ll call it a Nicaraguan Thanksgiving dinner. Carne Asada (that part was actually good), Tacos (I’ve had better), Potatoes with cheese (Potatoes= yum, Potatoes with cheese =yuck), fruit salad (that you drink), fried green beans (any vegetable fried gets taken off the healthy list), Bunueios (still trying to think of how to describe these), and tres leche (a cake with three different types of milk). The crowning moment was when the chicken was brought out, three huge chickens that they placed in front of me. I was still enduring the attack of the invisible spatula, so I didn’t eat much. And when they put the chickens on the table, I just laughed and felt like throwing up…but it was definitely a night to remember, quite quite diverting.
We’ve been having several meeting with President Collade, which brings me to my subject line. I’m dreaming of a white Christmas. First I should clarify, I’m not actually wishing for snow here in Nicarauga. Frankly that would be absurdly impossible and quite hilarious. Neither do I wish to pass the Holidays in a place where there is snow. In actuality, more than anything I want a Christmas filled with people wearing white; people going to the font to be completely clean or going to the temple to learn of their destinies. I can’t wait to see this dream fulfilled a perfect present to my Savior, that of a soul who wants to follow Him. I encourage each of you to go to Christmas.mormon.org and watch the video, and then think, “what can I give to Him?” Perhaps your own willingness to change, or the time to help a friend change, to come unto Christ and be perfected in Him.
Notes: Are you impressed? I made it through a whole letter without describing the weather! Ten points for Gryffindor! But, just in case you were wondering, the winds in the east and the kites are flying high in the currents. This is Hermana Beatty reporting live from Chichigalpa, Nicaragua.
hola! I'm Naomi and I love reading, my amazing family, and the color green.