ANOTHER ONE FOR THE GRANDCHILDREN

This is the Pooh-Pa standing on top of the highest mountain in Armenia called Mt. Aragats. From there he could see Mt. Ararat where Noah landed with the ark. He climbed up with three of his friends----a man in his 30's, a man in his 50's and a man in his 70's. He's hoping that they will be interested in learning about the Gospel. He has lots of friends, and all of the children in the neighborhood say "Hello!" to him in English and throw him their soccer balls when we walk by. He always makes them laugh.

It was a hard climb---but he made it to the top and had a great time. There's another hard path we're all trying to climb---the path that leads to Heavenly Father and Jesus. Here's a suggestion that can help us get to the top, from President Heber J. Grant who was the prophet when Pooh-Pa was one year old:

" Do not do something that you can not ask God to help you to do"

Maybe you could talk about this at Family Home Evening next week?

SHOPPING IN WONDERLAND

I think I like to shop more than I will admit. But I prefer to do it alone, and to help myself and to have as much privacy as possible in a public place. And I really just miss going to the grocery store and finding what I need and checking out and going home. Here, as I've mentioned before, every little market that calls itself a supermarket, has the market-lassies who plant themselves next to you while you try to select something from the puzzling inventory, which is still better than fighting your way to the front of the counter and having to ask for every little thing from behind the counter, which is what you have to do in the non-supermarkets.

As we've driven to Yerevan I've noticed a new supermarket just outside of the city. Today I persuaded Elder Blunck to walk there after dropping his suit off at the laundry (no dry cleaners, but they do a pretty good job of cleaning a suit however they do it.) As it turned out, what seemed to me to be a short distance as we drive by in a taxi turned out to be a two hour walk.

The market was very attractive, very clean, and very devoid of customers, except for us. We got more cheerful attention than I ever wanted . There were at least 6 or 7 lassies everywhere, happily ignoring my "I don't know Armenian OR Russian" and chattering away and not letting me buy the baklava I wanted to buy---I think they were telling me it wasn't as good as the twinkie-like things I finally bought just to make them happy. And they didn't carry anything I can't find in the 11,0000 shops closer to home. They were relentlessly ubiquitous and merry and bright and I could hardly wait to escape.

I couldn't help but ponder the possibility that even though the Gospel is packaged very attractively---indeed first class is the only way to describe the way the Church does everything it does---I hope we, the members and the missionaries, don't get in the way of people who are interested in the truth but need some peace and quiet while the Holy Ghost works with them.

We found a nice taxi to take us home and I was very grateful for the driver who wasn't interested in talking. (Sorry if this sounds curmudgeonly----I appreciate the fact that these dear people have no privacy their whole lives. The elders even have to sometimes divide and conquer when they're teaching---one sits and chats with the sociable ones who are coming and going and visiting, and fixing food, while the other takes the serious investigator aside and teaches.)

SEDA'S BIRTHDAY

Seda does so much for everyone in her world that I wanted her to be pampered for her birthday. I bought her a cute picnic basket and dishes, and since the weather was so beautiful, planned a relaxing picnic, American style. She thought the best place to have it would be her brother-in-law's very nice summer cottage.

I roasted chicken, made salads, & chocolate birthday cake, and had what I thought was an abundant feast, ready to eat. But Armenians just can't not do what they always do, which in the summer time is khorovatz----barbecue on a wood fire. Karin, Seda's husband, got the fire going and cooked pork, eggplant and potatoes.

So my offering was rounded out with Armenian food. I think they were just concerned about confronting American food and needed a back up. "One man's ways may be as good as another's, but we all like our own best." (Jane Austin ) Nowhere is that quite as true as it is in Armenia. We all liked each other's food and Seda didn't have to work as much as she usually does.

I have tried no less than five times to post more pictures and can't get it to work, but we had a jolly old time eating and then dancing the night away. Seda can't not dance---and she's very good at it. Her best birthday present, though, is that her family is planning to be sealed in the new Ukraine temple in March. (They were actually sealed early in July, and her husband is the new branch president. Seda is one happy woman!)

MENK UNENK UHNTANIK

The majority of the Vanadzor Branch is single women of all ages. And we love them. I would like to introduce you to a not so typical family, but one for whom we have great hope of becoming an eternal family.

Samvel is the father of Lena, Rima and Kamo, and the husband of Nuneh. He has hearing and speaking disabilities, but he is a hard working, cheerful man and a great father and husband. I can say that because he has a happy wife and wonderful children. He seems to be able to fix anything. He has a baptismal date of October 9th. The family all said he didn't even need to be taught because he knows everything about the church already, but he's being taught just in case.

Next to him is Elder Cheney and darling Rima, who is nicknamed "Butterfly" by Elder Blunck. Her sister Lena is our branch chorister and the most dependable and faithful 12 year old I've ever known. Her hair comes to her knees and she is unfailingly cheerful, beautiful and bright.

Then we have cousin Laura, who is a college student, and was recently baptized. She is very faithful and and everything a young adult member should be including beautiful and intelligent.

Nuneh is the lucky mother of the three children. She was buried under a wall for two days after the earthquake 20 years ago, and is grateful to be alive. She was a young girl then and suffered some effects from that trauma, but hasn't let that get in the way of being a good wife and mother and a happy member of the church.

Elder Larson is holding Kamo who is a typical 9 year old who loves to play with his friends. Kamo's Papik is a dignified and good man who loves his family and is not quite ready for baptism, but committed to overcoming some minor things that are in the way at the moment.

Grandma Laura is in the Relief Society presidency and is hoping to go to the temple soon. (In fact, she was able to receive her endowment in July 2011.) She was very apologetic last time we visited because it was Sunday and she had just learned that day in temple preparation class that we shouldn't go shopping for food on Sunday even if we have guests coming. Being a good hostess is just what every woman does, but we praised her endlessly for making the right decision, and she served us tea and bread at the end. Actually not having the full spread, from our point of view, allowed lessons to be taught without all the distractions. We were right in the middle of our no water at all week, but that didn't stop her from using her nice cups and saucers and plates. She is very genteel. I think it is thanks to her that the girls all play the piano and that they are all busy doing their homework every time we stop by. They pray daily as a family and I know that heaven will be populated with families just like the Matevosyans.

GOOD SABBATH!

This is Navere and all of his family, except his brother Sogomon, who was there, but not in the picture. Sogomon is 14 and a teacher, and a very handsome young man who passes the sacrament each week in his priesthood uniform and a very sweet smile. Elder Thylin, who's from Sweden, came from Gyumri to baptize Navere because he had been such a good friend to the family before he was transferred. We had visited them with the Elders many times. They live in a big dorm for the homeless, and I have to confess that every time we visited it was so dark that I really didn't know what the boys actually looked like. It was very early in our mission and I tried hard to learn their names, and even wrote them down, and studied them. Now these strange names roll from my tongue, but back then, 1/2 a mission ago, it was a struggle.

We went several times, with an appointment, to find the mother not home, and I had planned lessons, wanting so much to help her become a better mother to these sweet boys because, in spite of my own failings, I'm Marjorie P. Hinckley in comparison. But they kind of disappeared on us, or maybe we on them.

The sisters found them, and the boys started coming alone. I didn't know they were the grandsons of Siranuge, who is a faithful member who lives on a hill so steep that taxis can't make it up, and who walks with one cane, and sometimes two. Families don't sit together in church, so it's hard to match people up sometimes.

It was a wonderful baptism, and the mom came, and has been coming cheerfully ever since. Grandma had a bad hair day, meaning that's not a pink hat she has on her head, and little sister Sirangue toddled around, and it was a very happy day.

The boys and Grandma came to the Kiev temple cultural event (which really was astonishingly good),and the temple dedication which was such a moving experience.( A dear Santa Clara sister had given me 12 beautiful temple handkerchiefs and neither of us could have known back then that all 12 would be used on that day by worthy members shouting praises at the dedication of the first temple in Eastern Europe.) The brothers politely shake hands with everyone coming and going, and how we hope they can stay strong through adolescence and the mandatory two years in the army, which undoes a lot of good boys.

They were back again today, and so was the whole family, including Grandma Siranuge happily sporting beautiful chestnut colored hair. We have had unfailingly great fast and testimony meetings. All of our pouters are cheerfully back in the fold, which proves once again that love, and fasting and prayers, are the best people skills. A convert of three months bore her testimony for the first time, and said how much the gospel has helped her, and how much she learns each time she comes, (which is every time). She said how thankful she was to learn from the testimony just preceding hers, that she should carry her scriptures everywhere she goes, just as she does her passport. (And a happy p.s.: just before we came home her husband was baptized and her dream of going to the temple could very well become a reality.)

Good testimonies, good hymn singing, great post meeting class on preparing for the temple. Good to hear that one member paid his tithing for the first time today, and bore a strong testimony. Good to hear a testimony from a member who learned from the temple dedication that President Monson is a real person who is alive at this moment and leading the church. Some concepts we take for granted aren't that easy for people on the other side of the world to grasp.

Hadjika Vadjika

This is sweet and eccentric Jemma. She dresses like a very elegant gypsy and only took her hat off just long enough to be baptized—-then donned it immediately. Now that it’s summer she’s changed her look from long fur coat, boots and this hat, to flowery bandannas and swirly skirts. She always the first one there, and always has a serene, and very stylish smile.

I’ve been keeping a list of some random stuff to try and capture the flavor of life in Vanadzor. Partly because my kitchen has no less than five layers of linoleum at the doorway (just stacked, not installed) I’ve tripped more than once, but I’m trying to keep my balance spiritually, and missionarily, by doing what’s right every day, so that these odd little things don’t completely throw me off.

We were at a birthday party. I was wearing a silk blouse and spilled a little something. My neighbor took a big pinch of salt and rubbed it into the stains, which immediately disappeared. Completely.

We were showing all of our English classes “Up” as a treat. The power went off—you never know for how long. So a cute little 7-year old marched to the front and recited poetry complete with theatrical gestures worthy of the very best Hamlet. Then others recited spontaneously, and Ani sang a beautiful Armenian folk song, and the power came back and we finished the film. Elder Blunck tried to lead us in a chorus of “She’ll Be Comin’ ‘Round the Mountain” and that’s when the movie came back on. Thank goodness.

We were at another party. During the mandatory dancing afterwards (that’s what “Hadjika Vadjika” is by the way—a dance/song. Hadjik and Vadjik are men's names. The "a" is the definite article they put at the end of a name or noun.I’m going to bring a DVD home and we are going to do it together. A new family tradition. You’ll love it.) —–anyway, during the dancing a music video came on of an old man singing a sweet song about carrots. Very weird, but very cute. We danced to that, too. It doesn’t matter—-you just keep dancing.

I had my hair cut. But then I found myself suddenly having my eyebrows dyed. Until it wore off I looked like I had caterpillars on my forehead. I wish I had beautiful Armenian eyes, but I had to refuse the next time she wanted to, and she could not understand why. But now she has moved to Ukraine, so I don’t know what to do about hair or eyebrows.

I actually know a darling young woman who not only minces, but titters.

We have an English student who, on the first day, announced that he had escaped from themental hospital and at one time survived by drinking his own blood. I personally don’t hold that against him, but it made our class of all woman a little uncomfortable so we moved him to the Elders’ class. He is now a progressing investigator and attends church faithfully and reads the Book of Mormon in two languages. We have an endowed member who sent a new pair of garments to her teen-aged granddaughter thinking she’d like to wear them, too. Elder Blunck might very well make me erase some of this, but I just wanted you to know about things that throw me off at times. It’s good and true that missionaries are the most prayed for people in the world. Maybe no one is specifically asking that Sister Blunck will be able to keep her balance, but I know for sure that God knows what is best for each of us.

Then Do What is Right

You can’t force spiritual things, as we know, and I’ll tell you the honest truth—every time Elder Scott came into the room (a meeting with just missionaries, the kitchen where I was helping to get his dinner on, and where he was so gracious and gave me a hug, and the big meeting with all the members from here and Georgia) I just felt encircled in pure sweet unforgettable love. I’ve talked to many members who were able to shake his hand and have a personal moment with him—-I think time may have stood still for him to have contact with every one there. I wouldn’t be surprised.

Soon after that we went to Tsakadzor for the best Young Single Adult Conference I’ve ever participated in. We were the parents for the week of the Georgian group—mostly new members, and serious investigators who we hadn’t known before. If you remember my pictures from our first two, you’ll appreciate that we not only had hot water and a clean bathroom, but clean sheets and wonderful accomodations in an old Soviet resort which must have been decorated by an old Soviet hippie. Art everywhere, green plants everywhere—-and maids and food servers with frilly white aprons and caps. We didn’t come on a mission to take a shower. But it was a nice surprise to have a charming place to stay while we tried to keep up with all the workshops, dancing, and very well-planned activities.

The thing that’s on my mind is that there’s always the rest of the story. (I hope not with Elder Scott’s visit—that was perfect). I’ll tell you, Armenians, much as I love them, know how to pout. Literally. We have a man & his wife who have turned in all their church materials, & are not coming to church anymore, and are pouting hard because they weren’t invited to Tsakadzor. We have a grandma and a YW President who are pouting because our darling 12-year old branch chorister couldn’t go to the District Youth Conference with the 14-18 year olds. The young woman is fine—she seems to be resisting the pouting lessons she’s getting from her elders.

We all could learn from Seda. When things don’t go her way, she fasts and prays and looks for the good in every one. Her reaction to our sulking couple was great sorrow and a day of fasting for them, before Fast Sunday, even. Her reaction to her husband’s six years of inactivity (honoring his mother’s demands that he not have anything to do with the Church) was to tell her children that they were going to love their grandma and their dad and treat them with the greatest respect, and then she went to work fasting and praying and serving with all her might. And now when she sits in the congregation, and when she looks at the men sitting on the stand, she sees her husband sitting to the right of the Branch President and serving as his first counselor. Elder Scott’s main lesson to us was to do what is right. It works far better than pouting.