Hello!
December has come! Our apartment, from over the years of missionaries, I guess, somehow has two Christmas trees. I pulled one down this week--it was in a box on top of a cupboard above the washing machine--and set it up along with a snowman doorknob hanger and a stocking that says "Elder Miller." Merry Christmas!
I guess I wasn't too excited for December--I wasn't expecting anything too exciting for Christmas. Christmas isn't too big in Korea. We had a zone conference this past week, though, and the mission president's wife took some time sharing some of her favorite scripture passages about the Savior with us, and we sang a few hymns together...so simple, but hearing what she shared made me realize getting ready for Christmas was a time to remember Jesus Christ. In the mission we have, for the past few months, been reading the Book of Mormon looking specifically for references to Christ, His words, His attributes, and doctrines. But the last few days, more than studying about Him, trying to remember Him and focusing more on trying to love and serve like He did and taught us to do has helped me feel closer to HIm at this time of the year when we celebrate Him. And now the Christmas season is becoming special.
We visited Yang Boo soon again this week, the grandmother who lives in our same apartment complex. She's been attending church regularly, has read the whole Book of Mormon, but she gets a little flustered whenever we talk about baptism. This week she went, and she told Sister Park she wanted to fix her hair, show her how to do it (and Sister Park said, oh, I think she mentioned this last time...). She told her to take out her barette; Yang Boo soon got a bottle of styling wax out of her bathroom, put it in Sister Park's hair, told her and showed her how she needed to style it with her fingers so it would be taller and whispy--"THIS way. You need to do it THIS way"--and if she just cut it here and here, it would be right. She disappeared onto the viranda and rummaged around, and then appeared with something metal and long and pointed, which made Sister Park jump. She put the camp-style gas stove she uses on the floor and started heating it up over the flames--turned out to be a screw driver. We were both a little nervous about what she was going to do to Sister Park, until she explained it was because she didn't have a curling iron.
"Have you ever tried this before?" was Sister Park's response. It all turned out alright.
That night, we got a call from some of the Elders in Anyang ward. There was someone at the church for us, they said. It turns out it was someone who knew Sister Park's mother. This family went to Canada for a few years and met Sister Park's family there. They wanted to take us to dinner. We were eating and talking, and the mother of the family pulled out her cell phone, rummaged around for a phone number...and dialed up Sister Park's mom. Missionaries have lots of rules, one of which is that we call home twice a year, on Christmas and Mother's Day. So when Sister Park's-mother's-friend tried to hand her the phone, everyone else around the table started waving their hands and saying no, no. So she handed the phone to me. I got to talk to Sister Park's mom (who is very nice).
Maybe both of these stories are you-had-to-be-there kind of things. Hmm.
All my best, have a wonderful week!
With love,
Carrie
December has come! Our apartment, from over the years of missionaries, I guess, somehow has two Christmas trees. I pulled one down this week--it was in a box on top of a cupboard above the washing machine--and set it up along with a snowman doorknob hanger and a stocking that says "Elder Miller." Merry Christmas!
I guess I wasn't too excited for December--I wasn't expecting anything too exciting for Christmas. Christmas isn't too big in Korea. We had a zone conference this past week, though, and the mission president's wife took some time sharing some of her favorite scripture passages about the Savior with us, and we sang a few hymns together...so simple, but hearing what she shared made me realize getting ready for Christmas was a time to remember Jesus Christ. In the mission we have, for the past few months, been reading the Book of Mormon looking specifically for references to Christ, His words, His attributes, and doctrines. But the last few days, more than studying about Him, trying to remember Him and focusing more on trying to love and serve like He did and taught us to do has helped me feel closer to HIm at this time of the year when we celebrate Him. And now the Christmas season is becoming special.
We visited Yang Boo soon again this week, the grandmother who lives in our same apartment complex. She's been attending church regularly, has read the whole Book of Mormon, but she gets a little flustered whenever we talk about baptism. This week she went, and she told Sister Park she wanted to fix her hair, show her how to do it (and Sister Park said, oh, I think she mentioned this last time...). She told her to take out her barette; Yang Boo soon got a bottle of styling wax out of her bathroom, put it in Sister Park's hair, told her and showed her how she needed to style it with her fingers so it would be taller and whispy--"THIS way. You need to do it THIS way"--and if she just cut it here and here, it would be right. She disappeared onto the viranda and rummaged around, and then appeared with something metal and long and pointed, which made Sister Park jump. She put the camp-style gas stove she uses on the floor and started heating it up over the flames--turned out to be a screw driver. We were both a little nervous about what she was going to do to Sister Park, until she explained it was because she didn't have a curling iron.
"Have you ever tried this before?" was Sister Park's response. It all turned out alright.
That night, we got a call from some of the Elders in Anyang ward. There was someone at the church for us, they said. It turns out it was someone who knew Sister Park's mother. This family went to Canada for a few years and met Sister Park's family there. They wanted to take us to dinner. We were eating and talking, and the mother of the family pulled out her cell phone, rummaged around for a phone number...and dialed up Sister Park's mom. Missionaries have lots of rules, one of which is that we call home twice a year, on Christmas and Mother's Day. So when Sister Park's-mother's-friend tried to hand her the phone, everyone else around the table started waving their hands and saying no, no. So she handed the phone to me. I got to talk to Sister Park's mom (who is very nice).
Maybe both of these stories are you-had-to-be-there kind of things. Hmm.
All my best, have a wonderful week!
With love,
Carrie
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