Flea Market

We kept hearing about something that was going to happen on the last weekend of August, but since we really didn't know what it was and we were so busy we forgot to ask. We have heard of a lot of city activities in Lille, however we have not had the time to look into any of them because there is always some activity involving the church or church members. We kept hearing about the Braderie and this time we got totally immersed in it because it is the biggest outdoor market or flea market in Europe and our neighborhood was totally swallowed up in it. When we came home Friday evening we noticed that all parts of the streets around us were being taped off with red and white plastic tape and every available space on the sidewalk was beginning to be occupied by trucks, cars, and vans.

   Saturday morning we got up early because we had a home repair project with one of our home teaching families who live 30 minutes out of town. We drove out of our private parking spot onto the street and off we went without any problems. We worked with the Thille family all morning long and at about two in the afternoon we started to head back to our apartment.. The closer we got to Lille the more the traffic started to pile up. This is not unusual for a Saturday but soon we were at a standstill. It took us twice as long to get off the freeway as usual and when we did we noticed that all the streets heading to our place were blocked off. We tried a few side streets but they all led us to police barriers and so we kept looking for a way home. At the same time we noticed that, in our absence, street after street was filled on both sides with make shift or professional booths set up on both sides of the streets and the middle was filled with the walking public going up and down looking at whatever was placed on the ground or on tables.

   We finally found a street that wasn't blocked off and started to move towards home. We found out that this was our only avenue home because there is a fire station on the next block near our building and they needed a way to take care of emergencies and so that street was not used for the public market. We got within 200 yards of our parking place when we ran into the full force of the flea market. We pleaded with people to let us through and when they did we had just enough room to inch the car down the two blocks. It took us 20 minutes to go the 200 yards. We finally parked the car and got safely into our apartment. Once we got our wits about us we decided to see what this was all about.

   We immediately launched ourselves into a sea of humanity and we found out that the entire downtown area of 4 square miles was taken over by sellers of every type of merchandise and that there were a million buyers who had come to Lille from all over Europe to look for just the right item (s) that they were looking for.

   Every one way and two way traffic street had booths on both sides of the street and every four lane street had 4 lanes of booths. The city even arranged the different sections of the downtown by the type of merchandise that was for sale so that the interested consumer could look on the map provided and go to the sections that interested them the most. We traveled up and down the streets in our neighborhood and were struck by the amount of things for sale and the mass of humanity that had come by train, plane, car, and bus to pick over the merchandise that was for sale. It was interesting to see that many people had come prepared to buy their chosen article whether big or small. They brought furniture dollies, wheel barrows, children's wagons, and baby buggies to cart away what they bought.

   I was pleasantly surprised by the fact that Joanne was not carried away by the many things to buy and so the only thing we came away with was two pair of new socks for me and we only shelled out 2 Euros for both pairs. I must admit that there were paintings, furniture, and other things that, with a discerning eye and good knowledge of antiques, a person could come away with great buys, but we kept our hands in our pockets and were content to experience the greatest flea market we will ever see.

   On Sunday we learned our lesson and left the car in its spot and walked to the subway to get to church. There was not much activity at that time in the morning, but as we returned the streets were packed again for the final day of the Braderie. This was a once in a lifetime treat.

Desmond

  One of the things that we have noticed in this mission is the ways in which the Lord brings his willing children in contact with the restored Gospel of Christ. We have witnessed many miracles through which brothers and sisters have been provided the opportunity to meet the missionaries. Today I would like to introduce you to Desmond Asante. Desmond is from Ghana, Africa. He had a small business in his country and wanted to build his financial business beyond his own country, so he made a trip to England to see what could be done find business partners. While he was trying to expand his business, his partners in Ghana cut him out of his major interest and he was left destitute and could not afford to return to Ghana. He knew that his visa in England was coming to an end and so five people he met in England that were in the same situation decided to leave England and try their luck in another European country. So the six of them entered Belgium and tried to find visas and work to support themselves, but alas Belgium was less inviting than England. The six of them, one young woman and five men, were living on the streets and trying every which way to stay alive.

   They felt that the only avenue to find work was to go to France and so the six went to Calais, France. Upon arriving in Calais the group was picked up by the French national police and taken into custody because of lack of the proper papers. Desmond being a Christian, turned to prayer while he sat in his cell. He and the other five were interviewed by French officials and in the end the woman and Desmond were given permission to stay in France and the other four were deported. Desmond was told he could go any where in France and continue the process to stay in the country, but nothing was for sure. He exited the police station and immediately felt that he needed to evaluate his situation; a park close by provided him with a place to pray and meditate. After a silent prayer on a park bench he met two missionaries as the two elders were going through the park to their apartment. Missionaries are not encouraged to contact people in public parks, but both elders were prompted to go to Desmond and talk to him. After introducing Desmond to a short explanation of the restoration of the Gospel and the Church of Christ to the earth, Desmond received a feeling that he should go to Lille. 

 

   The Calais missionaries gave Desmond the address of the church in Lille and gave the Lille elders a heads up about Desmond. Upon arriving in Lille, Desmond and the elders made contact and the process of introducing our new friend of the church began. Desmond came to church the next Sunday and we had the pleasure of meeting him. An invite for supper was given and accepted and, with elders, we spent time together enjoying a good meal provided by Joanne and great conversation about the principles of the Gospel. We were able to take our brother to buy some new clothes so his needs were met.

 

   We had been given some clothes and two suits from a departing missionary and in sizing up Desmond everything fit just right. Joanne spent some time fixing one of the suits and presented it to our  new friend the next time we met him at church. Another thing happened and that was Desmond began to read the Book of Mormon with the free time he had. In his previous religious experience he was told to shun the Book of Mormon because it had nothing to do with Christ. The experience this brother had in reading the opening pages made him realize that he had not been told the truth. He was very quickly into the chapters and through prayer realized that within the pages he was studying many of the questions he had before were answered and new truths were revealed to him. 

 

   He requested baptism and to my surprise he asked me to baptize him and also give the talk on baptism. He made a request that Joanne give the opening prayer. The day arrived and Desmond came dressed in his new suit, white shirt and tie and a huge smile. The two of us entered the waters of baptism and since Desmond doesn't speak French, I gave the prayer in both French and English. After coming out of the water the joy of Desmond could be seen and felt from everyone at the service. The next day was Sunday and Desmond was confirmed by the first counselor, Charles Tessa. The expression on Desmond's face and his words after the meeting about his spiritual experiences of the last two days were overwhelming. He said he could not express his feelings in words adequate to do it justice. It reminds me of experiences in the scriptures.

 

 

 

   The story doesn't end there. Desmond has since brought one of his new found friends to church and his baptism date is set for next month. The french officials have done something that is rare in France, and that is that they have quickened the acceptance process for Desmond to receive refugee status. He has been given a small living stipend which is very rare and now instead of going from homeless shelter to homeless shelter, he now has a permanent place to stay and some work to earn his meals. Desmond is active each Sunday and was ordained a priest two weeks ago. He is willing to teach with the missionaries, bear testimony in church and the two of us gave a talk together. It is not easy to translate for someone who wants to move on with his message of the restored gospel in quick fashion. I was able to give the members the main points, but as they say, much was lost in the translation.

 

   It is great to be here and see people come alive to the gospel and to play a minor part in the spreading of the word that has been revealed to us in our day. In a side note we met with Margaret yesterday and I asked her if she has continued to pray about the truthfulness of the message we have presented. She responded by saying, "I don't need to pray about the truthfulness of the restored gospel because I know it is true." We still have some more to teach, and her attendance at church needs to become a priority as well as getting her husband's permission for her baptism. This last time we had the pleasure of meeting her husband and he was very friendly and it doesn't seem that permission will be a problem. Margaret asked if she could keep the DVD on the life of Christ that we watched while we were at her home. She hopes to show it to her oldest daughter before she heads off to Paris for school. We also gave her the restoration DVD since I had ordered two for some reason and had an extra. I don't wonder any more why I ordered two. We also let Margaret know that there were young adult groups of the church in Paris and they would welcome her daughter with open arms. Margaret is all for that because she does want her daughter to meet some good clean living young people.

70 Years Young

Margarite & Elder Metcalfe

Jack's 70th birthday dawned on a Sunday this year, but what he was excited about was that our new ami (friend of the church), Margarite, had promised to come to church today. This long journey began for us back in mid-June when Elders Andrus and Meyers (two super missionaries) passed her along to us because she lived too far away from the city for them to teach her. They had contacted her by helping her with several heavy grocery bags, and had gotten her name and address. Finding her house was incredibly hard...it's like she lives at the end of the world; a former commune that she and her husband are gradually renovating from dorm like rooms into a residence for their family, consisting of three nice sized buildings. So few streets are named on signs here in France that even Mappy-Ann gave up, and we resorted to asking the 'man on the street' for directions. We were 15 minutes late by the time we finally figured it all out, but she was gracious and understanding of our plight as we met her for the first time. Jack launched right into the first discussion of the Godhead and Joseph Smith's first vision, and she sat and listened respectfully, nodding her head and asking a couple of questions here and there. He gave her a Book of Mormon and she read the promise, then I had her mark it with a red pencil so she could find it again, and she said she'd try to read, but was very busy with two young teenage daughters.

At our next visit we showed her the Joseph Smith story on video, and afterwards in the discussion he asked her, "If you gained a testimony that the Book of Mormon is true, would you be baptized?" "Well, that would be the natural next step, wouldn't it? she smiled. She said she'd been baptized as a baby, and because of the influence of her religious grandparents she has always believed in God. Jack told her how in our church we don't baptize babies because they are sinless, and I thought of Moroni's chapter 8, which teaches why infant baptism is an evil abomination. It is strong doctrine, but Margarite is so open minded that I thought she needed to hear it. I found it in her book and she read the heading, then got into the verses, reading quickly aloud, until she finished the whole chapter! We sat there amazed as she seemed to be carried away with the words she was reading. Jack talked to her about prayer, how it is a conversation with her Heavenly Father, pointing out the steps and asking if she'd close with a prayer. She did, even though it was foreign to her to pray aloud, but she was pleased and vowed to do better next time.

Two weeks later at our next meeting, she wasn't home when we drove up, no cars to be seen anywhere in her courtyard. We were quite sad, but as we turned to leave Jack's phone rang and it was Margarite, saying don't go away, she'd be there in 5 minutes. We helped her in with her groceries and then had another great visit with her and answered her questions about Adam and Eve, with help from 2 Nephi 2:11 where it talks about opposition vs. agency, and about Satan's designs on the children of men vs. the joy we can have with God someday. We taught the Plan of Salvation and it made sense to her with the scriptures to back it up, she definitely chose the Celestial Kingdom as the goal to strive for.

Then just last week, we had a great experience with her, because a couple who are stalwart members of the nearby Branch came with us to teach her about the Word of Wisdom, and it was so much fun to see these French people connect with each other. By the end of our visit, Margarite had promised to come to the Branch this Sunday, so we were all very excited about that. Jack and I left Lille before 8 a.m. Sunday morning, for the hour's drive to St. Omer to be there for Margarite's first time at church. It is a small Branch, and this is vacation month, but the people are very faithful (even though few in number) and we had all three meetings for her to experience when she came. The members welcomed her heartily, and one woman even knew the person Margarite had once worked with who was Mormon, and who had impressed her very much. This is why Jack was a happy camper today, on his birthday, that he was able to be a part of the welcoming committee for a special ami that we have been working with, and have such good feelings about and high hopes for.

Emily

Singing Soeurs

After church we rushed home to get ready for the 2 p.m. dinner appointment at our apartment with the 3 Soeurs (sister missionaries) who are serving in Lille together right now, plus a young member who could use a friend, Emily. We got home and I had an hour to get things ready. Jack went to pick up the Soeurs because the Metro was running slow, and they brought a chocolate sweet treat from the legendary Paul's for me to sneak into the fridge. Then Emily came bringing a pear tart and a big, round brownie as well....hmmmmm. Since he asked me to make him a Lemon Luscious Dessert for him, I see a huge sugar overload in our future! I wondered how everyone found out about his birthday? We had a nice dinner and sampled all the desserts, then the Soeurs sang a special song and their voices blended together beautifully. Then Jack requested that they sing his personal favorite French hymn, Souviens-toi (Remember me), and that capped things off perfectly.


A surabondance of birthday treats!

The next day we arrived at the church for Family Home Evening and there was quite a good crowd of young people there. I took our rhubarb dessert into the kitchen and the irrepressible little Somalian refugee, Emanu, rushed in begging me to quickly cut a piece so that he could put a candle in it for "Elder Metcalfe". "It's his birthday, a day late, but it's his birthday, so hurry, I've got a candle!" I did it, and it was presented to a surprised Jack as the Young Adults all sang happy birthday to him. Then they brought out homemade greeting 'cards' from all the Elders and Soeurs in the area (including Andrus, who is now in Orleans ), complete with their handprints to seal the deal. He loved the whole thing and was very touched by their show of love for him, and that was how Elder Jack Metcalfe spent his 70th birthday.

Surprise!

Make a wish.

Two Different Experiences

Waiting for the race.

Jack heard that the 'real' Tour de France bicycle race would begin its premiere stages here in the north, so he looked on the map to see if it would be coming through anywhere near our area. We'd been traveling to Calais to work on the apartment there, and he saw that a side trip from the freeway would take us to a little town called SAINGHIN-EN-WEPPES, where the race was scheduled to pass through at 10:30 a.m. We decided that catching a glimpse of the race would be a fun 'memory souvenir' for us; so on July 3rd, on our way to Calais, we veered off for the 20 minute ride to the village. We got there 10 minutes early, only to find out that it wouldn't come through until after the noon hour! Rats....those best laid plans, foiled again! Jack said that we should wait because this was a onetime event for us, our chance to see a real French tradition in person, so we did. Finally, at almost 12:30, the pre-race HOO-HAA began to arrive: support cars and advertising sponsors hawking their products through loud speakers, came zooming wildly through this little intersection, throwing things at us from their tricked-out vans and trucks. They targeted a little 9 year old girl and her energetic mother a few yards in front of us, so Jack was able to catch a bag of Madeleine cookies, and another one of crunchy snacks, that were tossed into the air. Finally, at 1:32, a break-away group of 4 riders rushed by us surrounded by cars so close to them it was scary. These barely 2-lane skinny French roads are a trial for cars, let alone break-neck speed bicyclists trying to jockey each other for position. Three minutes later the main body (the peloton) of riders came by us....ZOOM, ZOOM, ZOOM, with their bright colored costumes and head gear; more support cars with their extra bikes and wheels on top; and camera crews, all before you could even blink an eye! That was it, the whole she-bang over and done with...sure glad we didn't have to pay admission for that 3 minute show, but it was interesting to say the least and Jack did have conversations with several people there, so that was good too.

The Breakaway Group heads through first.

Here comes the Peloton!

Support cars trail with extra bikes.

We love working with and getting to know the missionaries here in Lille, and we've had many experiences with them, mostly about the work, but sometimes things take a different turn; like the time we got a frantic phone call from the Elders when their apartment key broke off inside their door lock, and they were all stuck out in their hall. They asked the neighbor lady if she'd get a hold of the owner for them, and she just laughed at the ridiculousness of such a request. Apparently no one had even seen such a person for 25 years at least! So one of the Elders called Jack and asked if he could come over with his tool box to help them out maybe?

Four homeless waifs.

Almost two hours later, on a cold rainy night, I answered the intercom - it was Jack, and he said, "I'm back, and I have 4 homeless waifs with me!" They'd tried everything they could think of to loosen that key, but no luck, so he brought them home with him to do the best we could. Luckily, we had just bought 2 blow-up mattresses for some Young Adults to be able to stay with us for their weekend conference, plus, one shorter Elder might fit on our half-sized couch; but we had no blankets or sheets or toothbrushes (and no Walmart nearby). None of them had eaten since lunchtime, so I started pulling out left-overs from the conference out of the fridge to warm up for them. The one thing there was plenty of was the chicken spaghetti, and they were so grateful for some good hot food it was funny. I also had a pan of brownies made for the next day's Institute dinner, so they got a good dessert too. We figured out the problem of no toothbrushes by handing out floss and baking soda. We could only come up with 2 extra pillows, but two heavy BYU sweatshirts, each rolled up into a ball worked OK. The poor guys just had the suits they'd been wearing all day, and we only had one blanket on our bed; but we passed out Jack's robe, the pretty little lap quilt that Heather gave me at the airport, and coats from our closet to use the best they could. We turned up the heat in the living room til it was nice and warm in there, and since I knew they were awkward about being around a female, I told them I was shutting the door to my room and that was the LAST they'd see of me that night!

Le petit-déjeuner au Café Metcalfe

Those good Elders' alarm 'watch' went off at 6:30 a.m., so we were soon off and running. We were almost out of milk, but I had some newly discovered Lait Fermente (looks and smells like buttermilk to me!) for pancakes, and plenty of eggs, so I scrambled some while they all took turns showering, and we had a nice breakfast with orange slices and yogurt to boot! While Jack had a captive audience, he taught them the ins and outs of genealogy, but Elder Maynes slipped away to the kitchen to help with the dishes. He loves history and was able to be a part of a flag folding ceremony at the U.S. Soldiers Monument at Normandy a while back. He talked to some of the old ex-servicemen who were there and was touched by their stories. One man in his 80's was in France for the 'last time', hoping to locate the very SPOT where he was wounded on a day so long ago. It meant so much to him to be a survivor when all around him other men had been killed or were dying. This was his third try, but everything seemed so different now that he just couldn't find it.

Soon it was time to leave, someone had the idea that maybe super glue might work to meld the two key ends together...Hmmmm. Their best bet had to be Plan A - find a locksmith, and they actually got one willing to come and help them out. The locksmith came with a special tool so as not to ruin the wooden door and was able to finally install a new better quality lock system with much heavier keys. We paid $265 cash for it and were reimbursed later. They all hung together and we had an interesting experience and love each other all the more for overcoming the little trials of life.

President's Wish

We had the privilege to attend a combined Brussels and Lille zone conference and the visiting authority was Elder Teixeria, who is the Regional Seventy for this area. He was very inspirational and gave some great tips on how to increase our teaching group. He said when you make contact with someone, whether they are interested in the message of the restoration of the Gospel or not, we should ask if they know individual(s) who might want to hear our message. If we do this each time it will increase our contact list without further time spent. As we continue to do this, the number will continue to grow rapidly. He also challenged us to try this as we left the conference.

Joanne and I left the conference and headed to the train station and made contact with a man in the park. He was interested in our message so we got his phone number and address but when we asked if he knew of others that would be interested he said he was the only one of his family here and the country he came from did not have missionaries. We met another young man who helped us get on the right metro car so we could get to the train station, but he was going one way and we the other, so we just had time to get his name and phone number. We picked up one more name as we helped an older lady with her bags on and off the train. She was headed to Lille and we met her son at our stop at Lille. We have not had time to visit him yet because as we were leaving the conference our mission president came to us with a new assignment.

The mission is trying to place missionaries in different areas in Paris that will help the Chinese speaking Elders in Paris , but to open a new apartment the mission needed to close another. To hand back the apartment to the owner we had to make sure the place was ship-shape. President Posnazski asked us to go to Paris and see if we could get the work done. We said we would go and do it. We said that we would drive down, but president told us that we would never find a parking spot in that area and that we could stay in the apartment that Elder and Sister Jones were in before they finished their mission. We knew that their place was way out of Paris and that we would lose a lot of time going by train as we made our way into Paris. We told the president and his wife that we would bring our inflatable mattress and camp out in the apartment and save time. Sister Posnazski was shocked and said we couldn't do that. We told her that we are not the rich and famous and we would be right on the job early each morning.

So off we went to Paris to help out. We only had a week and so we had to sandwich everything between Thursday night institute and our meal after the class and Monday night's family home evening with the young adults. So Friday morning bright and early we took off for Paris. We made arrangements with a young adult in Paris to help us get set up with all our needs. We met him at one of the chapels in Paris with the help of Mappy Ann (GPS) and he took us to the apartment.

It was a large apartment that had a large living room, dining room, bedroom, bathroom with adjoining WC, or toilet as you would call it, and a kitchen and hall. The wall paper had to be taken off and the ceilings painted. There was a large hole at the shower area and the bathroom needed to be painted.

Matt, the young adult, and I left Joanne at the apartment to start tearing off the old wall paper and we headed to the nearest Leroy Merlin store. This establishment is as close to the French get to Home Depot. We spent 380 Euros on all the things we needed and rushed back to get into the major job before us. Matt Fuller, a returned missionary, came back that evening with two young adult friends to help. We tore the old paper off and then had to water down the backing paper to get it to peel off. All hands were working until 10:30 PM. At the end of the night we tore off the paper in the living and dining rooms and the three young adults got two walls finished with the new wall paper. We then inflated our mattress, opened the windows and plopped down for the night.

We were up at 6:30 and we went right to work. I put on the paper under the windows that spanned the living room and dining room. Joanne kept right on tearing off paper and bagging it up to throw away. We had seven large garbage bags full and still counting. Elder Godfrey, whom we had known in Lille, was the Zone leader in Paris and he and his companion came at 10:15 and worked until 2:00 PM. It was hard to get everything going as we wanted because we only had one ladder. We got an assembly line going with three of us. Cut the wall paper to size, brush on the glue, and then get it up on the wall straight. When the two missionaries left the living room was done and Joanne had most of the dining room free of the old paper.

Joanne and I ate two small quiches tarts, two pastries and drank a lot of water. In the afternoon two more missionaries came. These two were the Chinese speaking Elders. One was from Taiwan and the other from Quebec. You could rattle the elder from Taiwan by asking him what it was like to live in China. He was good natured but he would let you know right away that he was definitely not from China. These two missionaries headed to the bedroom to tackle the old wall paper.

We had a hard time with corners because the rooms were not square and it took much trial and error. We actually left the corner area and headed for some straight flat surfaces. Two more elders came to work in the bedroom and by 9:00 PM we were down and out for the count so we called it quits. We had no place to rest except on the floor or on the toilet as places to sit. The hole in the bathroom now had two coats of mud and it needed to dry before some sanding, the dining room was almost finished so we figured that we had made good progress for two days. With the help of Mappy Ann we got the keys to Elder Godfrey and headed home to Lille and arrived just before midnight.

After family home evening with the young adults we headed for Paris again. We took the toll road each time so we could get there faster, but it also cost 15.40 Euros one way. We double parked so we could get the keys from the elders mail box. Joanne jumped out of the car, punched in the door code, reached into the deep mail box and retrieved the keys. We were off in an elderly couples attempt at a "flash". We arrived at the apartment, inflated the mattress and got a good night’s sleep.

We still had much to do and only two more days to get it all done. Rip the old paper off, slosh the wall with a very wet sponge, tear off the under coat, and let it dry. Joanne and I got into a groove with the new paper as we cut the paper to size, applied the glue with the paper on the tile floor, put the new wall paper up, and wash down the floor to take up the glue that got on the floor.

At 2:00 PM our first helper came. We called him "Hy" because his Tahitian name was impossible to pronounce. He had come to France to find work and in the process found the church and had been baptized 4 months before we met him. He is 22 and planning to go on a mission. Two elders came and went to work on peeling the hardest parts of the bedroom. Hy went to work in the hall with Joanne, and I worked on the bathroom. Later on after the first set of missionaries left, two more came and started putting the paper up in the bedroom. One elder had the touch and could get the paper up so you couldn't even see a seam.

That evening two young adult sisters who were born in Africa came and David, a French young adult that helped previously, came to the rescue. We had a major problem with the sink and tile in the bathroom and he came up with a solution that allowed us to get the sink and the tile back flush with the wall. With some caulk we were able to get it looking better than before. Joanne and I decided to take a rest.  While the others ate food from the local McDonalds, we went to a Chinese restaurant in the area and enjoyed much more that pastries and quiche tarts. We were all dog tired and so I sent everyone off home with a hearty thanks for all they had done.

The next day two elders from the mission home came with an extra ladder and the 4 of us went to work. We were now up to the task and with the experience we had we worked hard and almost had it done when the elders had to leave for meetings with investigators. Their help was just what was needed and Joanne and I were able to put the finishing touches on the walls in the hard to get to places. Painting was finished in the bathroom, floors mopped, windows cleaned, garbage bags taken to the cellar for disposal, door locked, and keys once again placed in the elder's mail box. With it all done we headed for home after a total of 66 hours of work by Joanne and I and 65 hours by young adults and missionaries.  It was a job well done! When the owner inspected the apartment he was thrilled and our mission president said that it was great to hear the owners’ compliments.  It was wonderful to hear that the good name of the Church was upheld in the eyes of someone in France.

I need to add one more blessing that we received from our Heavenly Father. You will remember that our mission president said that we needed to come by train because we would never find a parking spot anywhere near the apartment. Each time we came we prayed that we would find a parking spot so the work could get done.  In the 4 times coming and the 4 other times we had to leave to get materials we always found a parking spot close to the apartment. Of the eight times, four were right in front of the building. Twice we came very late at night when there should be absolutely no spots. Both times someone was pulling out as we pulled up to the apartment. These are the tender mercies the Lord pours out upon those who trust in Him and who are about His work. The other is that without the help we received from good young adults and missionaries we would still be there. We love this work.

Another Temple Trip

Our young adults planned for a temple trip after Jack gave them the idea.  Our temple district is in London, and they would be able to stay overnight there, but they were all booked up, so the Holland temple would work just fine for a day trip.  We met at the church at 8 A.M. and were aboard our large, modern bus and on our way 20 minutes later, for the reasonable charge of $25 per person for the whole day.  The temple president at 'the Hague' (Den Hagge) Holland called Jack last week and virtually gave our group the whole afternoon to do as much temple work: baptisms, confirmations, and even endowment sessions as we wanted to do; the whole afternoon was ours.  We had 25 people and picked up another 14 persons from Brussels, Belgium who had wanted to come with us.  As we traveled along, I was amazed at the wonderfully flat land of these two countries. We got to see a little bit of the city of Rotterdam, and it's interesting to realize that this area of Holland has been reclaimed by the ingenuity of its people from the sea.  Much of the land is below sea level, and there are canals, pools and just standing water along the roadsides showing the part water plays in the scheme of things here.  New dikes now protect the country after a huge storm caused massive flooding several years ago.  We passed 2 nuclear reactor towers looming over the countryside, but only 3 old style windmills that Holland used to be famous for.  One was right by the temple, which is set on a corner lot unmarked by sidewalks or fences.

   The bus pulled into the parking lot and we got out with our lunches and found places on the lawn to sit, have a prayer and eat.  Our 3 cute sisters from Saint Quentin divided everyone into 2 groups, because this small temple doesn't provide workers: baptizers, witnesses, recorders, and helpers in general have to be a part of your group.  Jack was in charge of the Priesthood stuff, and the first bunch got into their white jumpsuits while I dressed in white also, to be able to hand out towels to those coming out of the font.  Each person did at least 12 names, and I loved watching them here, in this wonderful setting.  Sister Hall, from Brussels, was to replace me for the second group, and she told me how to get to some neat shops nearby; but I felt compelled to stay in the temple because that is why we drove 4 hours in a bus, not to buy more cheese!  

  Jack was the recorder, running names onto the screen so the baptizer could see them quickly and properly.  Cedric Bokiala was in this second group, just enjoying every new thing he learns about the gospel all the time.  He was baptized April 21st and is truly converted, having just received the Melchizedek priesthood and become an Elder. In the Congo he knew a boy at school who was well versed in the Scriptures, and found out that he was a Mormon.  He told his mother and she said, 'Stay away from the Mormons', so he did.  Then, earlier this year when visiting his sister in Valencennes, he told her that he was looking for a community of believers to associate with, and she said, 'Look anywhere, but don't mess with the Mormons'.  Just after leaving her apt. he saw 2 Elders contacting people on the street, and stopped to talk to them.  They got his address and forwarded it on to the Lille area Elders who took the ball from there and began teaching him.  He was going to school and living with a cousin, and tried telling him of the great things he was learning.  His cousin wasn't at all interested and tried to get Cedric to go drinking and partying with him, then got mad when he refused.  Cedric took the major step of getting himself out of that bad situation, and moved in with someone else 40 miles out from Lille.  He applied for new housing and got it, but for several weeks he had to travel those long distances to both attend school and now church as well.  We drove him home several times after Institute or Family Home Evening, where he was coming and getting to know a whole bunch of different new people and way of life.   He is really not a Young Adult, at age 31, but it's hard not to accept these new members who need fellowshipping, and just leave them stranded.  His father was in the Congo's diplomatic service to France at one time, so he is well educated.  He is also quiet, but now everyone is noticing his droll sense of humor and love to be around him. 

 

  We were finally done by 6 P.M. and our leader, Sophie, had the bus driver take us to the seashore so we could picnic there with the sandwich makings, cookies and drinks they'd brought along.  It was now overcast outside, and threatening to rain, but there were plenty of people on the boardwalks enjoying the cool breeze.  We ate by some strange metal artwork in a plaza, some of our group ran down to put their toes into the cold North Sea, and then we began to get sprinkled on, so we headed back to the bus and for home, where we arrived past midnight.  The name of the game here is activity in the church, and association with members their own age helps these faithful young people to stay focused and on track to return to our 'real' homes someday.

Our Trip to the Madrid Temple

Alicia and Sephora

After our weekend in Angouleme, we checked out of our cute little hotel and were picked up by Jean-Pierre on another rainy day in France.  Yesterday, Remy Demolombe said all his potatoes have rotted in the ground because there have been so few dry days this spring.  J.P. had just taken Marion to the bus for her school where she'd like to learn how to care for 'old people' (that is until one bopped her good one, and another accused her of stealing), now she is thinking seriously about baby care!  We loaded up their nice big SUV (lots of baby stuff), and had just the room we all needed since grandmere Genevieve took the train.  Little Alicia, at 4 1/2 months old, was such a good girl as we sat in the back seat with her between us.  It was a 10 hour drive (with stops to feed her) and she was stuck in her seat, unable to get off her back, but was wide eyed with curiosity and gave us many sweet smiles to die for.  We finally drove through the Pyrenees Mts. into Spain and pretty much left the bad weather behind us, for blue skies and sunshine.

    The large Madrid temple sits bright and white on a corner of a busy street, and is eyecatchingly beautiful, with the angel Moroni blowing his horn just above for all the world to see.  We got to park underground and took our luggage into the housing area where we were expected (I think):  Joana & Jaque Motcalfo.  We claimed the names and for the two of us, we paid $85E. total for a 5 night stay in two dorm rooms, where we both had upper bunks and 3 roommates.  I lucked out with my two Spanish sisters, and Genevieve; the lady in my bottom bunk was a temple worker from Barcelona who came to give a week of service.  She was very nice, with just enough English for us to be able to figure things out between us; and her worker-bee, early rising schedule, was good for me and got me going also in a timely manner.  Jack was dressed and raring to go the next morning at just past 7 A.M., because his roommate is a big-time snorer.  He couldn't even drown out the noise by lying on his good ear, and so he had a rotten night of very little sleep.  But, we were so happy to be going to an endowment session after all this time, his night time woes were soon forgotten.  In the chapel they find out how many people are there who speak different languages: Spanish, Portuguese, French, English, etc., and whoever has the majority of people, that's the language the session is done in.  Our first was in English, and our second one was in French and we were asked to be the witness couple.  I decided to try it without headphones as an experiment, so Jack kept nudging me to keep me on my toes about when to do this or that.

Sephora, Jean-Pierre & Alicia

Jean-Pierre, Alicia & Jaime

    At 3 P.M. we gathered again for the sealing ceremony of Jean-Pierre and Sephora, and waited for the arrival of a friend who was on a 6 hour drive from France to be there also.  Tall and lanky Jaime (Hy-mie, born in Madrid) was a branch president years ago in Angouleme and J.P. was one of his counselors.  After his mission, he met a young French divorcee with 4 YOUNG CHILDREN and they married and have added 2 more to their family...what a neat guy he is.  The ceremony was nice, then they brought Alicia in to be sealed to her parents.  She had been fussy downstairs, but J.P. rocked her to sleep and the matrons whisked her off until time to bring her in.  They dressed her in a beautiful long white princess gown (fluffy with ruffles) and we gasped at how pretty she looked.  The matron placed her where her parents hands were clasped, and she laid her little hand on theirs, and she looked around at everyone, but kept her hand there the whole time.  Even President Paia, (who sealed them) was mesmerized as Alicia, then in her father's arms, began to speak to us...' ahhhh, ahhhh, ahhhh, ahhhhhh.....'  She sat there straight and tall, eyes on all of us adults in the room, calmly sounding as if she was telling us all about this wonderful world that she knew so well.  She was in total charge for over two minutes...none of us wanted the moment to end, we were so amazed and delighted to have been a part of that experience. 

   We asked Jaime if he knew of any restaurants in the area for an outing the next night.  He found one in the phone book that sounded good, so after a day of temple work, we headed out into the city in two cars. 

Jean-Pierre's French GPS didn't like being in Spain and kept sending us in wide circles as we tried following him, and up one-way streets to nowhere.  Finally we found the city center street we were looking for, and after parking we marched up and down looking for a non-existent restaurant - it had closed its doors for good some time ago.  Hmmmm. Plan B was to ask the man on the street, and we were directed a block away to a small place, not too new or clean looking, but we were game (and hungry), and there were plenty of customers at the outside tables (smoking!), so we sat inside.  Jaime ordered several traditional dishes for us all to try, plus the cafe brought free samplers of fried pork rinds,  and crusty little fried fish as long as your finger, and creamy mild Spanish olives to start with.  Deep Fried is the name of the game for Spanish people, and we've noticed this at the temple apartments kitchen also.  Then the food started coming....potato salad with thick mayonnaise, potato salad with tuna and other stuff (yum), yellow potatoes covered with an orange colored paprika sauce (yum), Spanish potato omelet, deep fried cheese balls (both yum), deep fried squid pieces (scary, but we tried it - not bad, just must get it past your eyes first), and large slices of chorizo sausage (Jack loved it).  It was actually quite a potato fest, all beautifully prepared and presented, and I was pleasantly surprised by all the different tastes.  We ended the night at an ice cream shop, got lost on our way back, and felt like naughty teenagers coming timidly in after hours, hoping our parents (or security!) wouldn't be mad at us.

     Our remaining days at the temple were busy with more endowment sessions and we helped Jean-Pierre with some family sealings he had been working on since 2007.  That was a special session for us as the Spanish officiator gave us a card with the words in French so that we could follow along more easily.  A woman slipped in to help us and Jack helped her by being proxy for her father and she for her mother, as they were sealed across the altar.  She wept for joy as the spirit was strong and it was a special time.  Then later, after we went to get dressed again to go to lunch, I stopped to use the WC real quick (I thought!).  I flipped the lock to get out of my stall and the door would not open!  Hmmmm.  This was just plain crazy - was I doing something wrong?  It was a simple latch up is open, flip it sideways to lock.  But, nothing I did helped at all, and no one else was in the room, lunch time you know!  I was not going to yell for help in the temple - I'd rather suffer a bit than do that!  The stall had very tall walls, with very little space at the bottom, maybe 6 or 8 inches, enough room for my head to scootch out, but not the rest of me.  I prayed for some aid to help me...maybe Jack was missing me!  Sure enough, a couple of minutes later my Barcelona roommate came calling to see if I was there.  She tried the door from the outside, then with a tool, but nothing gave, so they called in the Big Guns!   It was quite funny listening to the chatter of concerned women, wondering how I was doing, trying to encourage me to not give up hope, until finally a deep man's voice cut to the chase - the answer to the problem had arrived.  I watched as big fingers came up under the door, feeling for the hinge, but that idea was banished quickly.  He tried the door, pushed on the door, then WHAM, slammed a tool into the lock and BAM the door leaped open with gusto (glad I was standing way back!) and I was freed from my cell.  Everyone gathered around and congratulated me for surviving my ordeal, and were so very nice to me (the main concern I had was to be sure to wash my hands before leaving)!  That just goes to show that funny things can happen to a person anywhere you might be. 

    We left on Saturday, and J.P. took us on a little side trip through an Atlantic Ocean tourist town called St. Jean de Luz, that was just beginning its season.  He stopped so that we could get a good look at the lovely curve of smooth sand and sparkling blue water that stretched out along the coastline.  This was every bit as appealing as the Mediterranean Sea side of France and Spain…what neat playgrounds the people have here.  We got to Angouleme and stayed the night with Patrick Humblot, who was alone since his wife is under a doctor's care in a rest home for a few weeks...we don't know why, but it seems to happen a lot here.  We visited Carole in one a few years ago after we had just got to know her, and also knew another woman who was admitted for a rest and evaluation...it seems to be free.  Maybe that's what we need when life starts throwing us curveballs, a place to rest for awhile...sounds good to me!  After church on Sunday, Patrick handed us sack lunches he had thoughtfully made for us and got us to our train on time for the trip back to Lille.  Come to think about it, we did get a much needed rest......a weeklong trip to the temple of our God in Madrid, Spain; what could be better than that?