Letter from 6 January 2010

What an amazing week! Lots to write about.

Well, we did not in fact freeze on New Year's. I wasn't too excited about the hiking activity. But I ended up absolutely loving it.

New Year's Eve, we were doing regular missionary things like we always do, and on the way home, around 9, it occured to me that there was nothing special that seemed to be happening or gearing up to happen. I started asking my companion, Sister Ee, about what people usually do on New Year's in Korea. She said some people stay up and have parties, but maybe a little more common to celebrate New Year's DAY--the first day of the year. Hiking, and seeing the first sunrise of the year. That night going to bed at 10:30 felt so strange--"you mean we're just going to end it like this?" That's what it felt like (though it wasn't the first time I haven't stayed up...I don't think I've stayed up for the last four years).

The next day--2010!--we woke up earlyand took the bus to the trailhead of Gwanak Mountain. The group of about 12 of us from the ward gathered at 8am and got going up the mountain to greet the new year. The air was cold and fresh. There was no wind. The snowy mountain was beautiful. There were so many people hiking--most coming down--they must have been on the mountain to see the first sunrise of 2010. We hiked together, and when we reached the top, the sun shining down on us, we formed a circle, and the bishop offered a prayer. He prayed for the new year. For the ward and stake, for the leaders. For missionary work. For the country. After, wandering off a little on our own, we offered our own prayers.

We climbed down and headed to the bishop's house and ate dok mandu soup (dok is that sticky, chewy rice cake; the soup is traditional for New Year's), and then the bishop had us go around in a circle and talk about our goals for the new year. It was such a wonderful New Year's Day! A wonderful new start, wonderful to look forward, and to do things together.

We had another "hiking" experience this week. Sunday night, I think, tons of snow fell. Maybe a foot and a half? Two feet? They say Seoul hasn't seen snow like this in 100 years. That day we planned to go heart attack Lee Eujin's door. Her mom got baptized recently, and we met Eujin a few weeks ago. Her grandfather has been really sick lately, though, so they haven't been able to come out to church. I felt like we needed to do something to try to keep in contact with them...we didn't have appointments Monday afternoon, so we decided to go out to their house to heart attack their door--stick paper hearts all over it--and leave a note.

Monday morning we woke up to all the snow, and it kept snowing. So when we were on the bus on our way to Lee Eujin's...the bus got to the bottom of a gradual hill, stopped, and the driver told everyone to get out. The bus wasn't equipped to go up the hill in the snow. So we got out...and walked.

It ended up being forty minutes? An hour? to walk. In the snow, going up the gradual hill, the scenery turning more into country-side. Rolling hills and trees, all covered in beautiful snow.

I loved the pioneers when I was younger--I still do, I guess. And as we were walking, started thinking, why aren't I thinking about the pioneers? Thinking about how this is what it would have been like for the ones caught in early snow storms...and then I thought, because this is Korea. Korea didn't have European immigrants pulling handcarts across the wilderness.

Grammy found a magazine article that Mom sent along soon after I got here last year. The article included an old black and white picture, maybe from teh 40's or 50's, a picture of a line of women, poor women, on a path, walking somewhere. They were wearing traditional Korean dresses, han bok, and carrying bundles of things. They looked tired and hungry.

I started thinking about that picture again on Monday as we were walking through the snow. I was thinking about it as we rounded a bend and a valley opened up--a valley filled with a beautiful, modern apartment complex. I saw that and thought of the women in the picture. "This is what you were walking to," I thought. "Did you know that? Walking to a where their country would live in peace. In security, in comfort." I don't know if they hoped for that. I don't know if they hoped. But they were walking towards something. They couldn't see it, but it would be there.

I want to remember the feeling I felt. I we don't know if we know what we are walking to. I think God knows. And I think when we ask Him to, he will point us in the best direction to get there. We can't know everything. We just do our best to follow Him. And keep walking.


I love you all. Happy New Year. The best is yet to be.

--Carrie