Tuesday, December 31, 1968

Since my last chance to write in this record, a great many things have happened, a few of which should be noted here. My first night in Petrópolis my companion noticed I had some trouble with ingrown toenails and called the President. Not realizing the seriousness of that, I had ignored checking them before. We returned to Rio the next day and that Friday afternoon, December 20, had an operation. My right toenail was completely removed.

For the next few days I was in bed in the mission home, where the Johnsons were taking real good care of me. While there I reviewed my discussions, read Talmage's Jesus the Christ again, read nearly half of President McKay's Man May Know for Himself, typed onto stencil the entire new mission handbook, and visited the hospital every other day for bandage changes. Finally, on the evening of December 28, I returned to Petrópolis, and Elder Slade was grateful to finally have a companion again. I still have a bandage and must wear sandals.

Christmas Day I shared the morning with the Johnsons while they opened their presents. Later all the missionaries from near Rio attended the festivities: a meal with American food, a program, and community singing of carols, with yours truly at the piano. It was a great day.

Thursday, December 26, 1968

Monday I also started a letter to my brother Jerry. I added the post-script last evening.

A year has quickly slipped by and Christmastime is already here again. I suppose its onward rush continuing, time will so quickly bring by the next two holiday seasons that my mission will be only history and I will be back reunited with loved ones—friends and family—in my beloved homeland. I guess it is but natural to feel a bit nostalgic (and homesick even) at this season of the year—and so I do. Were I kept constantly busy, which I'm not right now because of my foot, there would be no time to be homesick. But though such now is my unlucky lot, I will shortly recover.

The Johnson family is a great collection of wonderful people, and I am now blessed to share in their company this week. President Johnson is certainly a man of God. His wife is an angel, a perfect compliment to her husband, and a special mother. Their children, Daran (age 8), Jill (age 13), and Craig (age 17 next month), live here in Brazil. A married son lives in Provo.

It's hard to know how to really say thanks to someone who is deserving of a great deal of thanks. But to you I say: thanks for your support and your love and your concern and all you mean to me. Your financial support, even as it is difficult, particularly as it is difficult, demonstrates that you are indeed a disciple of Christ. If ever things become impossible, just let me know, because I can share this with you (although I'm sure he doesn't care to have it broadcast all over): Bob Russell has offered me his help at any time it might become necessary. He too has dedicated to the Lord his all—including his time, talents, energies, resources, and even life—to the building of the kingdom. This is why my home and my heart will be ever open to him. I wish only that you knew Bob as I have been privileged to know him.

Karen's package was exciting. Inside were various other wrapped packages, labeled "Christmas 1968," "Christmas 1969," "Birthday 1969," "Birthday 1970." Another said "Anytime." It was from her family—the book Man May Know for Himself by President McKay. Also included were about five types of homemade candy. The Christmas present was a homemade calendar for the coming year with appropriate and inspirational pictures, scriptures, and quotations on each page. That a lot of work was required in preparation is evident. What did Karen receive from all of you?

Have you seen the November Improvement Era? I did just this week, and it is fantabulous. If you have read it, study it again. I was particularly impressed and instructed with the article wherein was asked the question, "When did you last receive a personal revelation?" Is not that what the gospel is all about? As I see it, living the commandments is only to make us worthy to receive the constant companionship of the Holy Ghost. Then we begin living the meat of the gospel as the Spirit, leading us by revelation, leads us from grace to grace and from perfection to perfection until that perfect day when we come into the Savior's own presence. How glorious will be that day!

The dinner hour is nearly here and I must prepare now for that. My special Christmas treat has been sharing the spirit and life of the Savior's early ministry by reading again Talmage's Jesus the Christ. Please send me a detailed account of life in Nampa, especially of Christmas at our house, and of growth in the Nampa Fifth Ward from time to time. I need letters—oh, it makes being a missionary so much easier, especially letters uplifting and inspiring and instructing. Sometimes letters are too much like news broadcasts (I am guilty of this sometimes) and need to be a little more from the heart. Real communication is from one soul to another, by the power of the Spirit. I hope my sharing of my mission will be edifying and uplifting to you.

Remember me in your prayers, as I do all of you in mine. English is an inadequate language, and so it is hard to express in words the swellings of a deeply grateful heart. Let this be an attempt: you are the greatest brother anyone could want to ask for. Thanks for everything. May the Lord be with you and His peace be upon you.

Post–Christmas postscript: Since I didn't quite mail this yet, I will add a few more thoughts here. Tonight is the evening of Christmas Day 1968, which is now only happy memory for all practical purposes. The day has been long and tiring and warm and rewarding. I am grateful for all that Christmas really means—for life itself, for love, for the gospel, for a wonderful family, for supporting friends, for the Savior and His life and all He has done for us.

Early this morning I was up to share Christmas with the Johnson family, having ever as much fun watching their enjoyment without receiving any gifts myself.

Later all the elders in the mission within close distance to headquarters (about 80 percent of the missionaries) were here for the festivities of the day. Sister Johnson prepared a fantastic meal, with ham and turkey and root beer and baked potatoes and Jell-o—all of which are not found elsewhere in Brazil. In the afternoon was a program, followed by community singing of carols with yours truly at the keyboard. We all had a great time, even me still hopping around on a sore foot. I guess right now mine is the most popular toe in the entire mission.

As things look now, I hope to return to Petrópolis on Monday to finally begin work again—that is, if the toes will cooperate.

Please tell Gene and Cheryl and Ray and Sheryl hello for me, wishing them all a happy new year. Tell them I will try to write them whenever a chance pops up.

Monday, December 23, 1968

I wrote the following letter to my family in Idaho:

MERRY CHRISTMAS and HAPPY NEW YEAR to all of you. I was planning on sending a distinctive Brazilian card or something to you for the holidays, but due to the happenings of the past week that became impossible. I am writing this from a bed in the mission home here in Rio—more of that later, now I will tell you of more exciting things.

The three hours at the airport, saying good-bye to everybody, seemed more like ten minutes. Especially when it was time to leave, everything was a hectic rush. When we reached Denver we were late and thought we had missed connections, but the other plane was likewise late. There wasn't any snow in Denver. When we finally did leave we were an hour behind time. Almost all the way across the country a cloud covering prevented seeing anything below. As we approached New York's Kennedy International we were in a 40-minute holding pattern waiting for a landing spot. The skies were literally thick as flies with other craft above and below us in holding patterns. That indicates how much air traffic there is in New York. Anyway, our frequent circles over the city offered a fantastic view of the billions of lights sparkling below, a breath-taking view indeed.

By the time we finally got off the plane it was 6:50, leaving only 40 minutes before our next flight was to leave! We had no passports yet and had no idea where the VARIG airlines building was (it turned out to be about 1½ miles from the United building where we deplaned). The only thing that saved us was that Elder [David] Babbel's family was there to see him, and his father had called a limousine to rush us over to VARIG. Well, making a long story short, we just barely made the plane, but our luggage didn't. That made all kinds of fun going through customs in Brazil.

We landed in Rio de Janeiro Wednesday morning at 7:30 and President and Sister Hal Johnson and some of the elders on the mission staff were there to meet us. Most of that day was spent being fingerprinted, photographed, visiting the embassy, and such. President Johnson interviewed each of us and then as a group we had an orientation meeting with him and Sister Johnson.

We were supposed to have left for our assignments that night but couldn’t because we had no luggage. Thursday morning we spent six hours and a half getting our baggage through customs at the airport. After all that, we returned to the mission office, where President Johnson told us where we were going. Two of us went to a city in the interior near Brasília, five went north 1,700 miles to Recife and João Pessoa, and one went to Petrópolis—a city in the mountains about 1½ hours from Rio by bus (probably 50 or 60 miles), the only cool place in the whole north mission. The president of the republic has a summer residence there. This is the city I will be working in first. My companion and I are the only two elders there. The branch has about 140 members. I am told Petrópolis was once mostly German, but now nobody speaks German there.

Thursday night I took a bus all alone to Petrópolis. After spending the night there, my companion and I returned to Rio the next day. Friday afternoon I had my right big toe operated on and the nail completely removed. The other foot is all right. Since then I have been just laying around here in the mission office leading an easy life—listening to Brazilian radio (which is mostly American music, sung in English), being fed grand meals three times a day, getting plenty of rest, and getting lots of studying done. I just finished reading all of Talmage's Jesus the Christ, which I started only Saturday. There is no need to worry about anything because I am in good hands.

Tomorrow is Christmas Eve. That is so hard to believe, partly I suppose because we are here sweltering in the heat of summer. The Christmas tree here in the mission office is just like Jerry’s miniature tree that looks like a pine and a fern all in one, except that it is about six feet tall. They grow naturally here. Christmas Day all the missionaries that are at all close to the mission office will be here for a big dinner and such. Hopefully by the day following Christmas I will be able to return to Petrópolis.

Elder Slade, my companion from Las Vegas, is branch president and district leader. He was transferred to Petrópolis one week before I arrived. The branch was in such a mess that the entire first week he spent in getting it in order and had no time for missionary work. By the time he leaves for home February 7 he is supposed to have trained local membership to run the branch and a junior companion, me, to be able to be a senior companion if necessary (and it just might be).

Well, I should close now. Have a most prosperous new year and, though it will be late, merry Christmas also. Remember me in your prayers.

Thursday, December 19, 1968

At the end of the first two days in the mission field itself, I find myself tired from all the hectic and exciting things going on. Only late this evening have I met my first companion.

On the nine-hour flight from New York, we found about three hours of sleep. Much of the other time was spent in eating. President and Sister Hal Johnson and two elders working in the mission office were there at the airport to meet us at 7:30 Wednesday morning. Stepping off the plane was like walking into a greenhouse. Since our luggage did not have time to be transferred in New York that caused great confusion coming through customs and delayed our assignments a day. After six hours at the airport this morning, we finally received our luggage, following which President Johnson assigned our areas of labor.

Petrópolis, roughly an hour and a half north of Rio by bus, is to be my first home for the next few months. Elder Dean Slade from Las Vegas is my companion. He is returning home on February 7. He has been in Petrópolis only one week more than me. Two other elders are working here also.

Tuesday, December 17, 1968

The Language Training Mission steps into the background now—the stage is set, the audience in their places, as eight young elders walk onto the stage of activity. Yesterday was Provo, tomorrow Brazil. And what of today? Farewells (a two years' supply) and traveling.

First, let me record a few facts upon which to reconstruct later necessary memories of this day. Traveling to the Brazilian North Mission with me are Elder David Perry of Boise (my assigned traveling companion); Elder David Babbel of Arlington, Virginia; Elder Kent Gale of Salt Lake City and everywhere; Elder Stephen Riedlinger; Elder Mike Morrell of Ogden; Elder Turner of Moses Lake, Washington; and Elder Charles Van Wagoner of Heber City, Utah. I happen to be the group leader.

Our United Airlines flight left Salt Lake City at 10:50 (40 minutes behind schedule). In Denver, where Elder Perry visited with his girl, we changed flights. We left just after 1:00 (an hour behind schedule). New York's Kennedy International was out next stop. We landed at 6:50 p.m. Since we were behind schedule and our next flight was to leave at 7:30 and we did not even know where VARIG Airlines was located and had no passports, we were somewhat worried. But Elder Babbel's father, who was there with his family, had everything under control for us and had ordered a limousine to whisk us over to the international terminal where VARIG was located. We had held in a flight pattern over New York for some 40 minutes, having a fantastic view of the lights of the city. We headed for Brazil on a crowded VARIG flight.

Saying good-be is always difficult for me, but today was easier than real good-byes before. I am not sure why—perhaps anticipation crowded out sadness, perhaps so many people (about 25) there to say good-bye softened the hurts of leaving, perhaps repeated good-byes remove some of the sting, perhaps the realization of how quickly two years will slip by helps. But by any standard, it was great to spend three hours in the airport with Karen and my family, but it was likewise good to be off.

Evaluating the Language Training Mission, having limited space and little time, is difficult. But simply I would say: it was 11 weeks of continual growth, but which could have seen more growth. Marília did not become a great district, although it could have, but it was not a bad one. We were initially told that the LTM would bring out a person's worst and best qualities. I think that is valid. The LTM is an excellent place to learn to become meek, submissive, humble, and obedient—or an excellent place to learn to kick against the pricks. I saw both happen in varying degrees. Of the three objectives of the LTM (learn the mission language, learn the six discussions, and become a disciple of Christ), the ability to be a disciple of Christ in truth and in deed is obviously most important.

Sunday, December 1, 1968

December is already here. Where last month went I do not know. So much has passed by here in the Language Training Mission and in my life that I can never hope to catch up with myself in this journal. It is no idle statement to say that I have never been so busy or studied so hard in my entire life. But except for occasional rough spots the time runs enjoyable.

About the past two weeks mais ou menos have seen trends that could be significant—for our total district and for myself as an individual missionary—if the full potential can be followed through. We have been struggling with our purposes here, district unity, living the language, and such coisas. More particularly, I myself have struggled with capturing the full vision of a mission call. Visiting the Manti Temple last Saturday helped somewhat. And then Wednesday Karen sent me a copy of a letter Eileen received from Elder [Jeff] Boswell in Samoa. He certainly has the vision of his call, and that helped greatly. Last night I spent over an hour with Elder Hill speaking about many valuable things. Thanksgiving Day was a fantastic experience also in relation to all this. Beginning the final two weeks I think I am on a better plane.

Thanksgiving Day in the LTM started with an 8:00 zone meeting. We studied off and on until 10:30 before we went over to the Richards PE building to play basketball for several hours. An hour of the time I played with Brian Rabe, Dave Hart, Mark Smith, and Joe Cannon's younger brother. Like old home week. At 2:00 I called home and talked for 45 minutes, speaking to Mom, Dad, Jerry, Jackie, Dale, Kay, Gene, Cheryl, Ray, Sheryl, and Aunt Stella. At 4:00 the district retired to the house of the brother-in-law of Elder Welch for Thanksgiving dinner. Karen had spoken with Elder Welch and his wife the day before, and they were impressed with Karen. She sent a salad for our dinner. We had a great time together. That evening we saw West Side Story, which to me demonstrated the power of love, even outside the gospel framework. How much greater is the pure love of Christ! After the show we returned to the Welches for pumpkin pie, made by Elder Burr's girl. And then the day was over.