It was the best of times and it was the worst of times. This morning I reflected on many memories and wanted to share a few because, hey, this is my blog and I get to do as I please.
My companion Sister* Fuchs and I went with ward member Schwester Sold to visit a less-active sister in the ward. I needed to use the toilet and excused myself. It was a pretty neat bathroom and had one of those old-timey lock and key (which was fairly common in the Vaterland). I locked it up and proceed to take slightly longer than usual because the bathroom was interesting. When I wanted to come out I could not get out. I turned the key left and I turned the key right. I jiggled the key. I pushed it in. I pulled on it. I had probably been gone for hours at this point. Then I heard footsteps and I froze. Luckily it was Sister Fuchs' sweet little voice, "Sister, are you ok?" "I've locked myself in," I explained. Giggles and footsteps leaving me. Abandoned! and embarrassed! And then a gaggle of footsteps who instructed me in the fine art of unlocking a door.
Schwester Winter, in the bottom left photo below, had a thick accent of some variety (Hessish?) and wherein I met her at the beginning of my mission, I spoke and comprehended next to no German. But she was so sweet and kind and loving. After a visit she said something to me which I did not understand but decided meant, "I hope you don't get transferred." I replied," Hopefully not!" and smiled broadly. In English, Sister Turley (next to Schwester Winter on the other side) explained, "She just said she hopes to see you Sunday."
We weren't having a great day of door knocking (because when you are knocking on strangers' doors your day is obviously not going great... Willkommen in Deutschland!). We were on a row of town homes and each porch had a barrier to the other so you couldn't observe one front door when you were on another. Down the lane came a woman who shouted "Hallo!" and waved warmly. Sister Reiter grinned and hallo-ed back - happy to have anyone glad to see us. What I saw and she could not see was that our friendly lady was waving to the neighbors. Poor Sister Reiter. That laugh kept me going for a few bad days, it did.
I'd like to note a few things. First, I served before sister missionaries were allowed to look cute. Second, I guess my face absorbed all my makeup every single day. Last, photography just ten years ago was crap. Try not to see my iPhone reflected in the photos.
I still feel that my mission was the best thing I have done in my life so far. It's been the smallest singular event that has affected my life. In one sacrament meeting on the mission a brother talked about missions and how the mission does more for the missionary than anyone else. I was offended. I didn't come on a mission for me! Later as I've reflected on that I now completely agree. What a blessing missionary service it.
*Sister missionaries go by the English word Sister so as to not be confused with nuns. Regular ward members still go by the German word for sister, Schwester.
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