Surprises

Bonjour, to you all, my special family and our special friends. It’s a beautiful day to be in France, blue skies prevail and out in the country-side huge fields of sunflowers have popped open their golden heads. When I used to think of this country, Paris and fashion runways came to my mind first; I had no idea that they had such agricultural plentitude.

I still can’t figure out much of the food here, and Jack (even with his good command of the language) is not much help. We go to a grocery store and pour over the ingredients of cans and packages, and have only found two items, so far, that seem to be reduced in calories. So, we buy milk with a blue top, not red; and we know legere means light, so we buy those products, but what we mean by light, and what the French mean, can be quite different. Sometimes I just go by the picture on the package (ummm, that looks like what I want!), and when it is opened it doesn’t do what I expected in my recipe. A sister missionary friend of mine found a cookbook that converted French measurements to English; it was called, “A Little Taste of France," but when she looked for another copy for me, she couldn’t find one. They have cooking magazines just like we do at the checkout stands, and it’s fun to glance at them, but their ingredients are weighed . . . trey different! The funny thing is that now I have people wanting American measuring cups, so they can make carrot cake, 7-layer bars, brownies, etc.

We got treated to supper with a member, for taking care of his cats and fish while he was vacationing. He likes to cook, and the big platter of meat that he set before us looked interesting. We ate it with salad greens and balsamic dressing and baguette, of course. After eating seconds, Jack told me it was duck gizzards! It really WAS best that he waited with that little surprise.

Getting a new Mission President [President and Sister Carter] was a bit stressful, not knowing if he had an agenda planned for us, all different from that of Pres. Merrell’s way of doing things. The one e-mail we received from him told us that French would be spoken at all times; sounding a bit hard-line with all these American missionaries. Being from Quebec, speaking his native language made sense, but the Merrell’s spoke and taught mostly in English, with about 1/3 of the instruction in French.

We made it to Bordeaux with time to meet them before things started. He’s about my height and is quite bald (Jack has more hair than he does!), and was very soft spoken; his wife is shorter, very trim and retiring. Little did we expect what was coming! They started off with a bang—letting their life all hang out, and their story riveted us! They took turns speaking, and know how to teach, pronouncing words clearly, so that even I was able to get a lot without help. She said you will knock on doors all day long in France, and find people just like they were; living together without being married, full of the vices of the world, and uninterested in hearing your message. Her mother had joined the church after Sister Carter was out on her own, and living with a man (Pres. Carter) for 5 years. Their arrangement suited them both just fine, because marriage was not important to them. They let the Elders come mostly to be polite, and the message WAS different enough to be interesting. After months of thinking about what she’d been learning, one night while driving in the car, the strong thought came about what she would be giving up if she got baptized. “I’ll have to give up smoking!” The Spirit answered her thoughts, You won’t miss it. "I'll have to give up drinking." You won’t miss it. "I'll have to give up partying until 3 a.m.!" You won’t miss it. She told her companion that she’d been having a conversation with the Spirit, and was thinking about getting baptized. He was quite content with their living situation, (it worked for him!), and although for the past seven months of lessons, he enjoyed the intellectual stimulation the gospel gave his mind, his heart remained untouched. His Sunday school teacher was preparing her lesson, and was all ready when the Spirit whispered for her to teach on “testimony” instead. She said she tried to argue, but decided to follow the prompting, and began her lesson by softly singing the song, “I Know That My Redeemer Lives.” Brother Carter was so touched by the Spirit that tears began to flow down his cheeks and he absolutely could not stop crying for 15 minutes. They had to marry first, so they chose a weekday when only the 4 missionaries and a couple from their ward were therewith them. Their reception feast was Kool-Aid with pb & j sandwiches. Then, later that night, they were baptized in the river, and that was 30 years ago. They have remained faithful, and sent several children on missions, and they too have a brand new grandchild with another due in January. They are thrilled to be serving the Lord here in France, and we are thrilled with them. The entire meeting was in French, with humorous asides in English. They are both masters at teaching, each taking their turn, and the Spirit was so strong. My big surprise was, that I came to know that they were right about the language, and that even though I struggle, I am the better for it.

Love you all very much,

Sister Mom (Joanne) G’ma.