Reaching the goal!

Seda always had a private joke with Elder Blunck: "What is your goal?" The Mamajanyans have reached their goal. They were sealed as a family in the Ukraine Temple this summer. She asked me: "Now what do I do now? I've reached my goal?" So we talked about enduring to the end. Karen loved the temple and wants to return as an ordinance worker. In the meantime he's just been called as Branch President in Vanadzor.

This picture is truly worth a thousand words. It represents thousands of prayers and days and nights of fasting and faithful service. It represents celestial people taking a major step back to the kingdom where they want to be. Dear President Carter always says that he loves the people in his life so much that it won't be right in the Celestial Kingdom without them, and that's exactly how we feel about Seda, Karen, Maneh and Vardan.

. . .'til we meet again

We've been home long enough to have some perspective on the whole experience and I want to finish this blog, have it printed into book form, put it on a shelf and look at it when I can face the tender and still raw feelings which are evoked whenever I think about things----or rather, when I think about people. It takes a blink of an eye to adjust to the ways of home. It's another thing entirely to adjust to missing people I won't be going home to. I was homesick every day for my family. I am so glad to be back to the every day life of family and friends. Right this minute my grandchildren are in my living room, at their request, having just watched "Hadjika Vadjika" and now, "Swan Lake". They just finished watching Armine make bread (on DVD), which I've tried, and which they love----Armenian bread. Mikaera just asked me to make him his own loaf for his birthday. I sang an Armenian song for the Primary today. At their request. It's kind of nice to have a little bit of Armenia affecting the people around me here, while I'm missing the people there.

The pinata is a remembrance of the Cinco de Mayo birthday party we had for Sister Hallewell, who just got home herself. We had lavosh enchiladas----not bad. But I haven't yet had my fill of real Mexican food here. We've had some mini-reunions with young elders and sisters, and will always care about their lives while they're serving, and when they come home to real life. We have served with some remarkable people. We expect great things.

This is me doing a ujanga pyramid (also known as, I think, "Downward Facing Dog") in Gagik's gorgeous new studio.
Gagik and his beautiful Naira. He thought he wasn't allowed to come to our going away party at the branch (not so----another mix up), which event was so touching and dear to my heart I thought I would just die on the spot. But he came over early the day we left, and we had one last long visit and prayers and breakfast. Then he got in the mission van and drove with us as we left town, and called us twice at the mission home. We bought yoga mats the minute we got home and have actually done it once---it's just not the same without Gagik.

We just heard of a new member in Vanadzor who had three miraculous dreams and was baptized soon thereafter. This is one of those times you know the Lord knows what's best for each individual, and yet you still can't help but secretly wish it had been Gagik's turn for a miraculous dream. This is an unfinished story for now.

BEFORE : These are what used to be benches scattered around the plaza where our branch met. We think most of the wood was missing because it was used for fuel back in the earthquake days. One rainy Sunday, during Sacrament meeting, the young members of Republican Party showed up to spiff up the plaza. In the rain they painted everything with a coat of bright red. I will let the pictures speak for themselves.
AFTER:
I didn't go to Armenia to learn feng shui, and I will always harbor a deep desire to do an extreme home makeover on the entire county.

But if I could have the deepest desire of my heart it would be to spend eternity with the people we love so much who happen to be Armenian. They would love to hadjika vadjika with my family.

This is Armine with her special ingredient for wonderful hatz. Listen carefully.

It is actually the secret ingredient for all of life. It is why our mission was such a profound experience. It is what God is.

Zatik in Vanadzor

Here is the purple-scarfed and pocket-handkerchiefed VTab Choir having just performed for our Easter fireside. I had a lot invested in Easter this year: the choir singing five songs, one of them with harmony even, the luncheon between our meetings and the fireside ( I couldn't get them to buy into the idea of a potluck----an unheard of concept they just could not embrace. So I dyed 90 eggs dark red, brought juice and candy, and they made rice with dried grapes, and paska, and it worked out fine), giving a talk in Sacrament meeting, knowing that our little boys would no doubt all come to Primary, which they did, and just generally wanting it to be a special and peaceful day. I had memorized the Easter greeting: "Kristos hayrav i merelots", but had to peek at my notes when it was my turn to respond: "Orhnal yev harutyunuh Kristosi". I love this custom of greeting everyone on Easter with a testimony that He was indeed resurrected and the response of what a blessing that truly is.
We asked Mari to help with the boys, and armed with the inspiration I had received to "Let the little children come unto me" we did have a peaceful Primary---the little ones happily coloring a picture from the Friend, and playing with Easter story cutouts while the older ones participated in Seda's lesson. I did my entire repertoire, and then some, of finger plays, quiet games, and singing.
Ani came a little later. They live on the fifth floor---no elevator---and Ani can't walk by herself, and doesn't have a wheelchair, so it's a huge project to get to church. Her mother has a hard time understanding why her child was born with disabilities. She has been taught by several sets of missionaries. I hope she'll soon come to know for sure how much God trusted her with this lovely spirit whose purpose, I believe, is to help us learn to love as He does.

More children came later to Primary, and everyone stayed to eat our little lunch. They have an Easter custom of cracking their own egg against someone else's. How did this tradition get started? I'll tell you---I don't know. The Fireside was sweet and simple and well attended. There couldn't have been any doubt that we believe in the Living Christ and belong to His true Church.

Gagik even left a family celebration to come, so we'll reward him by ending with this video of how we begin yoga. In case it's disturbing that LDS missionaries are having a Hindu prayer let me assure you that: 1. Gagik is very sincere in his devotion to God 2. We are praying in our hearts our own prayers. 3. We pray together before and after breakfast at the end of yoga, and he prays in Armenian----LDS style. It's really groovy having our personal guru come to our home in the morning. I'll show you the one of Elder Blunck doing yujanga pyramids some other time.

Shaving Anush

When Gagik showed up this morning for yoga we had to ask "Who are you and what have you done with our guru?" His 40 days of mourning for his father ended Saturday and his friends (one of whom is also named Gagik and came over from Glendale CA) took him to the barber and paid 3,000 dram to give him a shave and a haircut. One morning he came while Elder Blunck was still shaving and congratulated him----"shaving anush!" The elders once met with a member and her husband, and she had just finished a bath and informed them that they should have wished her "bath anush". "Shnorhavor" means congratulations, and I guess "anush" is more like "way to go" because "aprek" is "good job" or "thank you". They are very serious about wishing you the appropriate greetings at the appropriate time. In all earnestness they take a deep breath and wish your new grandchild "Health, happiness and a prosperous life." They have all kinds of quaint little speeches for every occasion, over and above the formal and lengthy toasts at every event. If you were taken blindfolded to a birthday party, a funeral dinner, a New Year's party, or a wedding, you wouldn't be able to tell the difference, menu-wise, or activity-wise, except at one there would be a birthday cake, at one there would be no dancing, at one there would be more food, and at one someone would be wearing one of these:
Note to my girls: sorry your wedding dresses were so dowdy in comparison, but we were going for more of the Temple-ready look. And by the way, it's a good thing I took pictures of those boots last week because I went to that shop again today and they were sold out. Astonishing.

There is no theme, let alone point, to this post except to show you what I did on a rainy afternoon. I didn't have my umbrella, but I did get everything on my list done, except finding wooden Easter eggs for Sister Carter. I may have to share if they don't turn up. The inventory of wooden eggs has always been on the skimpy side, but I am estimating that for each bride in Vanadzor, there are 500 dresses on the rack at any given moment. For brides who want to look like a Barbie Doll birthday cake.

ROOM WITH A VIEW

Loved President Uchtdorf's comment that someone was probably texting about no aviation references that far into his talk. I doubt very much if anyone at all has likewise missed my annual toilet post. Even so, I can't very well leave Vanadzor without making you aware of something that has gnawed at my personal sense of feng shui for well over a year. This photo was taken through the door of the small room where the potty is. It is in the entry-----if both doors were open you could see straight down the stairwell. I am a very private person in certain matters. I am very firm in my opinion that: First, all bathrooms should have a window. Second, you should not be able to see a toilet from anywhere in the house, except the bathroom itself. This is the foremost thing I will not miss about Armenia. Although I am thankful that we have one at all---don't get me wrong.

I will miss the never ending variety of shoes. Tell me the truth: I won't see anything like at home will I? Picture walking on icy rubble in a pair of these bad girls.

These photos refuse to line up----so I'll use this little spot to
add that no matter how wet and muddy the street

their shoes are always clean!!

I'll update because I know you care about these people as we do. Gagik is still coming faithfully for lessons from the two best sister missionaries in the world. Seda has been helping teach too, and she said yesterday she could feel the Spirit the minute she walked in. He fasted with us and came to all the meetings last Sunday. He even stayed for Vanadzor Tabernacle Choir. We're going to the Apostolic Church with him tomorrow. He wants to take us to the Hare Krishna ceremony of offering food to God. At his request we always pray before and after breakfast, which we serve to him after yoga. He thinks our members live the most like Christ, and that we have the best Christian church he's found. We think he's like Brigham Young who studied for two years before he was baptized. We will never give up on him, and the Lord won't either. We even mangled our bodies through a turbo-charged pilates session with his amazing wife last night just to keep the connection with him and his family strong.

It's not surprising to learn that Mari is expecting. This is ok. We still don't know if they are legally married or if Hamo has been confirmed yet. There is so much good in both of them. We just got the April Liahona, and hope the same stories are in the Ensign. It was very interesting to read about the Marshall Islanders who struggled with some similar issues before becoming strong in the Church. It was good to read about real people with real challenges. And to be reminded that the Atonement really can and will make us clean.

We delivered a keyboard to Hegine yesterday---it was a happy occasion. Now she can practice, which she immediately started to do the minute she took it out of the box. If this is the only thing I've accomplished in Vanadzor it's well worth toilets in the entry hall and the hideous music that's wafting through the ceiling at this very moment.

I still love the pioneers. I can't be thankful enough for all that Joseph and Emma endured. Did you know that her great-great-grandson, an endowed member, said that the reason she didn't go West was only because she was just too tired? Bless her dear heart, of course she was. I read the Liahona from cover to cover last night, including Elder McConkie's classic talk, and am feeling that I should end this, and get to work doing anything I possibly can to help anyone I can to marvel and be amazed that the Savior stands ready to rescue us and bring us back to our perfect heavenly home.

Sunset

Isn't this a pretty photo? It showed up on iphoto, and as it happens Elder Blunck took it from our back window. I don't take pictures anymore, so I'm glad for this one. People here love to have their picture taken, and they always grab the camera to see how it turned out, and they always show you their photo albums when you visit. Even if you've seen them before. Even if you are the one who gave them all the pictures they have. I think it's all about feeling like they really matter and that someone cares. Which I do, very much. And I wish we could do more to have this yearning to be noticed, and approved, translate into yearning for Heavenly Father's approval, and staying focused on the return trip back to Him. When all is said and done most photos we see are of people sitting or standing in front of something, and they are just to prove they were there. (Exceptions: great photos like Casey's and photos of my kids and their kids! This comment about photos seems a little curmudgeonly, and I like the idea of capturing memories, but I'd rather be making memories. This just comes from a lot of picture-taking going on around here and the kind of poignant need they have to be noticed and validated. Sorry---this is a long rambling thought.) We need more out of life than to just prove we were here.

It's not icy anymore. I have daffodils from Armine in my vase from Rusanna. The road to the church is dry for now-----all the ice had covered up the rocks & rubble. My boots are thin and I hope they last 7 1/2 more weeks.

We have the sisters teaching Gagik in our home now. There should be a Preach My Gospel edition featuring them as the perfect missionaries. Please keep praying for him. He understands so much, and is such a good man. We'll be devastated, truly, if we leave in 7 1/2 weeks and Elder Blunck hasn't baptized him. He said the other day "If I decide to be baptized I want you, David-jan, to baptize me." I told him this week that I hate ujanga pyramids, but I do them because I know he knows more than I do about yoga, and he's doing what's best for me. He understood that I was relating that to us knowing more than he does about the Plan of Happiness and that we, and our dear sisters, are teaching him what is best for him. He said it himself.

Hegine is now taking piano lessons, one of my more brilliant ideas. I know she is very talented and can learn most of what she needs to know in 7 1/2 more weeks. She told me when she was a little girl she used to pretend the table was a piano---she has always wanted to play. I have two other new students. One is talented, one wants to keep quitting because she says she can't do it. But I'm going to give her every chance, and every ounce of my hard-won patience. Since this is a music paragraph I'll tell you that the Vanadzor Tab is working on a number for Easter that will amaze and inspire.

We seem to be busier than ever, but I took a minute the other day and packed all my souvenirs for travel. Mention this post and there is one with your name on it. In 7 1/2 weeks. How far away is that plane, Sister Blunck? I hope far enough away to leave things a little better than we found them, although the minute you start thinking that, everything comes unraveled. It's hard to go on a mission. It's harder to come home. And it's hard to sort out all you've experienced and learned, and to hope for a "Well done" from the One whose opinion matters, and whose love you feel so often, and whose grace you need so much.

Hegine

Ordinarily I would struggle with whether or not to tell you about the young lady who is absolutely certain that Armenian is the Adamic tongue. Do I tell you that Mari and Hamo are working on the challenge of not really having gotten legally married? Do I tell you that Gagik's father died a week ago, and that Armenians mourn for an extended period of time so we're doing yoga on our own for awhile, and are hoping & praying that this loss in his family's life will lead to an accelerated embracing of the restored Gospel when we see Gagik again? Do I do a whole post on Armenian nose surgery? Maybe someday, but today's post wrote itself.

Twenty minutes ago we finished reading the Book of Mormon, in English, with Hegine. She has faithfully come on every day off to read aloud with us. She works 16 hour days, every other day, as a taxi dispatcher. The small amount she is paid would be illegal at home. She tried to quit once and her boss simply wouldn't let her. So sick or well, tired or not, she has come for a year.

Hegine served a mission in Russia and there is absolutely nothing about her that isn't wonderful. She is an extraordinary member missionary. On her precious days off she not only reads with us, she attends Institute, she visit teaches, she serves in every possible way. This Monday she cleaned the whole church building by herself. She is our YSA leader, and plans all of the activities for Relief Society. She lives with her widowed mom, who was baptized while Hegine served her mission, her brother and his wife and three little boys (including David, the one who was dressed in pink ruffles for a year, with pony tails, but is now a toddler with a short haircut), and assorted other family members who come and go, and to whom she always teaches the Gospel.

This photo doesn't do her justice--she is very beautiful, and is the only Armenian or Georgian I have ever seen with braces----she is always trying to improve. She's practically perfect already, and we love her very much.

The Worth of Souls

Mari has always reminded me of a cross between Aladdin and Martha Stewart---kind of a good hearted, upwardly mobile street kid, with a flair for the homemaking arts. She lived in the dorms, which is a euphemism for a large building of one room apartments with no heat, no kitchens, no water (except for the communal bathroom). The first time we visited her it was dark and cold and she lit a candle so we could sort of see, and burned old rags to give the illusion of warming things up a bit. She somehow managed to pay for her mother and step-father and little brother and sister to return to Vanadzor and live with her. The father has gone away somewhere, and the mother works and Mari brings the children to church with her as often as they'll come. She loves to throw parties----she orchestrated her own 17th birthday party a year ago, and delegated music, food, and decorations and was a princess for an afternoon. She had a french fry party in her apartment awhile back----luckily she had a neighbor come over who knew the right way to stick raw wires into the wall and get the hot plate to come on without burning down the fluttering curtains hanging from the doorway. Recently she had a piroshki party and I brought the mashed potato filling for the dough she had prepared. She is quite the little hostess, and we left with a promise to come to her little brother's 7th birthday party the next week. We met her at the church and rode a marshuteny out to her Papik and Tatik's home on the outskirts of the city.This is an aunt---bringing in the bowl of fried chicken. Who knows how it could have possibly been prepared in the tiny room that serves as a kitchen/bedroom without leaving any kind of a mess behind. It was amazingly tasty. No matter how rich or poor they are (& we have yet to meet the rich) they all know how to set the table with every traditional thing required for a proper Armenian meal, including, always, a plate of olives, surrounded by lemon slices, a plate of herbs, bread directly on the table, salads, meat, dolmas, pickles and tiny plates, and tiny glasses which would shame them if they got empty for even a moment (thus the continual hovering over you to keep filling and filling.)
This is Tatik with the dolmas. At the time I was really feeling that this was the most, shall we say, uncomfortable occasion I've ever been to. The people were loud ---yelling with their mouths full, eating and dancing to loud loud loud music, and drinking, (and this continued on during the blessing that Mari gave), and a very strange cousin who wandered in and out, but mixed in with all this was a happy 7-year old with a very large and ornate birthday cake who was hugged and adored and probably felt like a prince for an afternoon.
Little sister is in the pink boots. Karen, the birthday boy is next to her. The neighbor lady who fried the piroshkis is on the left, and Mari's mom is between me and Sister Deaver who was only here for one day on splits. I had been asked by a departing sister missionary to have a good talk with the mom, because she was a very bad mother. Then I was told by a faithful member of the branch that she is a very good woman and a hard worker. I am learning to prefer to think well of people and not pay attention to criticism.
This is Papik, after filling his own glass many times, trying to persuade Elder Blunck to dance, and Mari, keeping the party going. Little did we know that we would be invited to return next week for a wedding party for Mari. No one quite knows how this happened, but we took her with us to Yerevan the other day for a birthday party for Hamo's sister. Hamo is a very nice young man who was just baptized here, but actually lives down there. We don't know how they met. We don't have any idea how this happened, but as soon as she got off at the bus stop, met by Hamo, they went and got a marriage license and shocked us all out of our wits when she called the sisters and said they were married. I think this could be a good thing. I think she was born to be a homemaker.

Hadjika Vadjika Part II

If you don't know what Hadjika Vadjika means, you'll either have to go back to the beginning, or just not worry about it. It's really hard to come up with titles. This is the front of our former yoga studio. We still go to yoga, but at a much more inconvenient time, and in a YMCA pre-school room which doesn't have really great karma. Just lots and lots of stuffed animals--- by far the single most important element in Armenian interior design. Really. I'll tell you about it at home.

"Kalina" is a bakery run by Armenians who speak very good German and make excellent baklava. So the sign is actually in German, not English. There's a lot more snow and ice on the ground since this pictures was taken, and once again angels are protecting me from slip slidin' away.

This is Gagik, our yoga guru, and the living Armenian embodiment of the 13th Article of Faith. He and Elder Blunck are BFF's and he has said, and so have we, that we may very well have been called to Armenia just to meet him. Preach My Gospel talks about the "Questions of the Soul", and of course, there's no doubt that the Gospel can answer those questions. His questions are uniquely poignant and we have spent hours and hours of quality time with him exploring, listening and learning. He and Elder Blunck have climbed Mt. Aragats, we've gone to classical music concerts together, and drunk endless cups of herb tea in his studio and in our home. We've met his beautiful wife and three wonderful children, and have made 3-D snowflakes with his youngest daughter, gone to his son's rock concerts, and watched Gagik and his friends perform jazz on the sidewalk on a hot summer night. Plugged in.

He attended all three meetings last Sunday, and then asked "Do you have any more meetings I can go to today?", then came back for the baptism of a 9 year old girl from Aliverdi. He smiled the whole time and made a special point of congratulating her. He reads scriptures and prays with us, at yoga and in our home, and he stopped in for a minute today before Sacrament meeting to ask to be excused because he had a friend who needed his help. He likes our Church. He has searched for truth all of his life, and spent a year in an Indian ashram and loved the introspective spiritual lifestyle there. He believed in Lenin with his whole heart, might and mind and because of his profound disappointment when he learned the truth about that whole era-----which has affected the people in Eastern Europe more than we can ever imagine----he is understandably taking his time before he will wholeheartedly embrace the Truth because he has to know for sure. We talk a lot about freedom, and choice, and trusting our feelings. He, like everyone here, lives with extended family. His mother, who stays home to care for his ailing father, is reading the Book of Mormon, page by page. She just picked his copy up one day and can't put it down. You can be sure that you will hear more about Gagik.

Next time I will write about Mari, pictured here with Father Christmas. His day job is second counselor to our branch president. (Since then, he's married, had a son and is now first counselor.)

A Little Treat

We had thought that we would be able to attend the new temple in Ukraine, but we'd have had to break rules to have done that, and wouldn't that have invalidated our recommends? We were almost there, though, because we attended all the dedicatory sessions by satellite, as well as the really wonderful cultural event. We're happy to share with you this snippet which features some of our Armenian youth. It's a holding hands around the world moment that, for me at least, helps put the broken appointments, and the people who aren't interested, and the less inspiring moments of a mission into a more eternal perspective.

https://lds.org/youth/video/kyiv-ukraine-temple-cultural-celebration?lang=eng

I Must Go and Fetch the Water Part II

My battery died just as I was taking pictures of the water brigade, so all we have is this one of Elders Gropp and Crawford. I've written about Samvel, the hearing & speech impaired father of Lena, Kamo and Rima. He was baptized Saturday, but not without some tribulation. There was a crew installing new radiators in the building this week. What we ended up with was no heat and no warm water for the font. So Armine led the elders up to their apartment several times to bring back big buckets of hot water and I went back and forth from the church kitchen with pans of steaming water from the electric stove, and we eventually got the font full enough with tepid water so that Elder Larson and Samvel could kneel down in the font with enough water to immerse Samvel. Standing wouldn't have worked. Not exactly a pioneer story (how I love the pioneers) but in our way it was memorable. They didn't freeze to death, and we were only half an hour late starting. We had about 30 people attending--many investigators. So we hope everyone there felt the Spirit and knew how important this ordinance is. Important enough that no one let a little cold water stop it.
I've written about Navere before, also. He was baptized in August. I can't even find the words to tell how much I love him. I took this picture when he came several hours early for a Primary activity. I feel sure that he wants to be at church because things at home are so, um, so difficult. His brother has succumbed to peer pressure and no longer comes, because he's at the age when boys start proving their manliness by ruining their lungs. But Navere keeps coming, no matter how long the walk and how cold. He smiles more now, he interacts with the others more. I think he's happy there. We're teaching out of Primary Manual #4 this year and that means The Book of Mormon. The class is full of boys, and only three sweet girls, and they each have their own copies, and their own highlighters, and we really get into it. I pray that he'll feel the Spirit often enough and strong enough to weather his adolescent years. The Gospel is really the only thing he has going for him-----there's a long list of things working against him. But I know fervent prayers in his behalf can be the very thing he needs the most.

This is my mattress. Smoothed out the best it can be. We have a wonderful old down comforter, and the lumps in the mattress conform for the most part to my own lumps, so I do get a warm & cozy night's sleep. I hate getting up in the dark to go and fetch the water, but we've had hot water every day now, for as long as I can remember, so I'm grateful.

His Hand is Stretched Out Still...........

Years ago when my children were quarreling (gasp!) one of my little ones came to me and said "Those kids are hurting Heavenly Father's feelings!" This (not very good) photo is of a (probably not the greatest) painting that I just bought myself for my birthday. It's a rip-off of the well known Simon Dewey portrait that some Armenian artist probably saw on a discarded pamphlet. But I love the expression on the Lord's face. I think it captures the disappointment that He must feel when we hurt His Father's feelings.

It might even represent what we will see when we stand before Him with our lame excuses for not ever getting it right when all He asked us to do was to love Them with all our hearts and to love others with the same love.

My favorite part of being a missionary is the time I get to spend studying the scriptures and the writings of the prophets. I could write a book of all of the great messages that are sinking deep into my heart, but it's already all in the books. It's all there waiting for us to invite the Spirit to manifest the truth of it unto us.

One of my favorites (Pres. Eyring) is in the sidebar to the right------------------------------------->

Although I find myself falling short regularly, past and present, and undoubtedly future, when I pay attention I realize that it's all between me and the One who atoned for me and who is disappointed when I don't measure up, but who still reaches out and lets me feel of His indescribable love.

Mind is kind. . . . . . .

When we go to yoga classes, 4.5 hours a week, and relax between tortures, Gagik will say soothingly "Feel the change in your body; mind is kind." My mind gets kinder all the time. It has to, or I'd never learn the lessons that I was sent here to learn. Here to earth, & here to Armenia.

Even though Vanadzor has pictures of Santa all over the place, and little tables along the sidewalks everywhere with zillions of ornaments you can buy one at a time, they don't really celebrate the Santa part of Christmas. They are decorating for New Year's Day, which is their huge holiday. I don't think they really BELIEVE in Santa, like I do. When I tried to buy the Santa garland the lady didn't want to sell it to me----I think she just didn't want to have to take it down. She tried selling me ten other things, but I stood my ground. The little nativity scene I had bought in the big city at the Marriott Hotel. You don't see anything about the birth of Jesus, and you don't hear Christmas carols. We only have two in our Armenian hymn book--Silent Night and Far Far Away on Judea's Plains. We did go to a presentation about The Virgin Mary at the Armenian Apostolic Church. And I think our branch party has been cancelled for about the 4th time.

On Wednesday our wonderful mission president and his wife, the Carters, came for a Christmas activity with the missionaries here. I was in charge of dinner, and we all decided that taco salad would taste good. The sisters made tortilla chips out of lavosh, and I made a huge pot of chili, and roasted a frozen Brazilian turkey, since I couldn't find any other meat that was good. We began with a program of reading scriptures about Jesus' life, and I was so touched by it that the chili burned while I stayed to listen. Christmas miracle#1---it gave it kind of a smokey khorovatz taste, and everyone claimed they loved it, and they ate it all, except what couldn't be scraped off the bottom of the pan. I had decorated the table quite beautifully. That made me happy. I am learning that things don't have to be my way, but when no one else really cares one way or the other, then I do it my way. We had a talent show and played the white elephant game and had a great time. After choosing someone's bag of leftover brown sugar, & getting it stolen I ended up with an x-ray of Sister Cornwell's lungs, & Elder Blunck got some Christmas lights from Target that were just as frustrating to get working as anything Armenian. But they do work. Some of the grandchildren were concerned about whether or not we had lights & we do.

Christmas miracle #2---We (the YSA girls & I) had made hundreds of snowflakes (3-D and Martha Stewart-style) over course of the last few weeks for our assignment to decorate the YSA party in Yerevan with snowflakes. I had engineered plans for the placement, & tied the correct lengths of sparkly yarn onto each one. We were prepared. For some of them it was their first encounter with a stapler or paper clips or tape dispenser. And certainly with doing something other than taping random pieces of tinsel garland around and calling it good. Sorry. We were asked to do snowflakes.

We got up early the next day to decorate before the 12:00-7:00 party. Riding a marshutny always involves:

--everyone arriving late

--stops along the way for a drink of water and another to get gas. It's a 2-hour drive, people, but this is a tradition. This time someone wanted to stop for tissues. I said "Mama-jan, please no!" and gave him a package from my purse. We really needed to get there on time. Really.

--more people than the capacity of the marshutny

--loud music

--smoking driver

--bumpy roads, hair-raising encounters with flocks of sheep and herds of cows and drivers passing no matter that it's a two lane road and you really can't see around that curve

--etc.

But back to the miracle: we finished hanging the last snowflake at 11:55. It looked so good that they kept them up for two subsequent Christmas parties and are going to glue hearts on them for Valentine's Day.

Christmas miracle #3---the next day. Gagik had done his homework and came back for another lesson, and committed to praying to know if Joseph Smith indeed was a prophet.

Next day---Christmas Day. The young missionaries came early for breakfast and had such a good time that they've invited themselves back for New Year's breakfast. We got hungry later and ordered pizza. We asked them to please make it with the actual oregano-laced sauce they used to use. They sent, instead, two containers of oil and vinegar salad dressing.

Still Christmas Day, but the picture of miracle #4 decided to go to the top of the page. It's Elder Blunck baptizing little Diana, on her 8th birthday. She is the granddaughter of Alvart who was baptized recently, by Elder Blunck, in Armenian both times. She sang at her baptism, and bore her testimony after receiving the Gift of the Holy Ghost. Apres!

Then got a phone call and met Maria to run a mile to show her where to buy 6 foot long icicles. There was only one package left. That really could be considered a miracle. And I bought the last Shrilling Chicken which you'll have to just wait patiently to see because there's no way to describe it. Christmas Day--stores are open. A good thing when you just have to have a Shrilling Chicken.

We also went to someone's home, had a very nice dinner, with chilled plates, chilled forks, chilled noses--it's just the way it is here. But kind minds, and warm hearts.

SUNDAY:

Before & After

The Vanadzor Tabernacle Choir had sung for Sacrament Meeting & then we had our Primary Christmas lesson:

We had a glorious time making decorations for the branch Christmas Tree. The District Primary President visited and I think she was impressed with our good branch. She was a little alarmed that I was using such pretty yarn (leftover from snowflakes) to hang decorations, so I gave her the rest of the skein to make something useful. I have a feeling that it will return to me in the form of a scarf or cap. They have very kind minds.

Logic Puzzles

Logic puzzle #1 almost solved: Last week I watched this construction site for awhile as I waited for something or another. (That is our Relief Society room in the far left of the picture. They have been building this who-know-what-it-will be for a year.) There were four workmen, and two were working hard shoveling sand onto shallow pallets, while the others lounged about. Then they would all pick up an end and take it somewhere, and return, and repeat. I wondered why only two were actually working until I saw that there were only two shovels. This week I watched again, only this time there was one workman, with one shovel, and a real wheelbarrow. And he hauled off more sand in five minutes than the four of them had done in thirty. But does that mean there are three unemployed workers now? And where's that other shovel?

We've known this goat for almost five years . He's parked outside the one hour photo across the plaza from the church building. He's on wheels and every night they drag him by the horns back into the shop. He's stuffed with straw and his head has been in the process of falling off ever since we met. He represents a theory I've had lately that we all started out as good as can be back when we only had a spirit to worry about. But I won't be surprised to learn that when we inherited these bodies---and became strangers here in the world----we also had some screws that weren't quite tight, or some wires that got crossed, just to see how we would deal with driving such "wretched machines". (C.S. Lewis)

One of these days I'll get my own head sewn on straight. Sometimes when I'm trying hardest I end up doing my worst.

This is the statue in front of the entrance to our meetinghouse. You can see Elder Blunck at the door. Vanadzor has some wonderful sculptures.
* Logic puzzle #2: The storekeeper in Yerevan who had affordable and good peanut butter. She stopped carrying it because she said that the minute she put some out on the shelves it would all get bought. Apparently she's not into volume merchandising.

There's something about this mouse-in-a-jar with the same markings as his friend that always captures my attention.

Our mission goal from now until Christmas is to baptize twenty-five new souls (I mean in the entire mission.) Our sisters have already had 5, with a 6th tomorrow. Last week Elder Blunck, in perfect Armenian, baptized Alvart. This is not puzzling at all-----this is the result of some mighty good work by some very great sister missionaries.

STAYING ON THE PATH

We traveled on Saturday and again on Sunday to attend meetings in Yerevan with Sister Dibb of the YW and Sister Stevens of the Primary. These are some of our members, while we're waiting for gas. They are posing with a cute little thing we learned from our visitors. "I will stay on the path back to my Heavenly Father!" If you hold your hands just right it looks like you really are hanging on to an iron rod. We do have a Heavenly Father, and there is a path back to Him.

Ani had awakened the night before, got out her English dictionary, and wrote a letter to President Monson which she slipped to Sister Dibb to deliver, and I know Sister Dibb will graciously give it to her father, who will be touched. I'm sure our visitors learned from those they came to teach, and we all learned so much from them----what they said, and the kind of people they are. I know it was a time that Heavenly Father was smiling down on this little group of us who are helping one another along the path.

Masta Pasta Part 2

Rose hips growing wild under the beautiful Vanadzor sky

Armine with a small part of her harvest from which she makes her healthy juice

This video doesn't begin to show ALL of the pasta hanging outside, nor the very meticulous process of hanging one long strand at a time. But you do get to hear the rooster, and I think the image of all this pasta is almost like a ballet.

The Masta Pasta Maker from Vanadzor!

OK, so the video starts out sideways. And I know the Chinese are credited with inventing pasta, and the Italians have turned it into an art form.

But with borrowed videos, and figuring out ALL BY MYSELF how to load a video, and kicking myself for not bringing my own camera, I'm going to tell you something you probably didn't already know. My friend Armine, mother of Ani and Araks, lives on the outskirts of the city. She is a provident, and talented woman. God told her that Friday was the only day she would have left to make her years' supply of pasta (and He was right because it's been raining and windy ever since and you'll understand the significance of that in a minute.) Armine has great faith and great gratitude for every blessing she has. And she listens.

So she brought in 100 kilos of flour, and all the neighbors she could find, and all day and into the night and the next day they made pasta.

After they have made the dough they throw it onto the floor, (between sheets of plastic) and knead it by dancing on it for two hours! Then they roll it out, slice it, and stretch it out with the technique of wrapping it around their arms.

They hang it outside, one long strand at a time, on the clotheslines to dry. It's an amazing and beautiful sight. That afternoon we feasted on fresh pasta topped with yogurt, garlic and butter, and it was as delicious as anything I've ever eaten. From a kitchen with no running water and a woman with an endless supply of energy, who gives me the best haircuts, and, in fact, cut my hair after lunch that very day. I did catch her yawning during our Vanadzor Tabernacle Choir rehearsal this afternoon. She can yawn and sing at the same time.

That's Armine you're hearing, and here's a quick Armenian lesson: you hear her saying "jan, jan" over and over, which means "dear". For instance I am Quir Blunck-jan, and appropriately this segment ends with "shat lav" which means "very good".

IF YOU'RE HAPPY AND YOU KNOW IT......

Primary is a pretty special time of the week for me. I feel a little more at home there than when I was teaching Gospel Doctrine in Armenian. Wouldn't you??? I bribed the branch president to let me be the Primary pianist by agreeing to direct the Vanadzor Tabernacle Choir and it's been a good thing. This particular Primary day was extra special--- six almost perfectly behaved children. They were good little lambs.

Last Sunday we had twelve, which, with our resources, was like having 150 at home. Terrifying. Nuneh, our friend who had been buried alive for two days after the earthquake, was teaching for the first time. She had prepared the lesson with Seda and me on Tuesday, and then went home and made a visual aid and had notes from the manual. I silently prayed for her the whole time and it all worked out fine. The way things do.

Seda wanted the children to learn "If You're Happy and You Know It" in English. So we sang the lesson version which is: "help your friends", "say your prayers", "tell the truth" and "share your toys" in English, and it held their attention for almost forty five minutes. They did so well that I told them I'm going to record it and give a DVD to our General Primary and YW visitors in November. I'm also going to record the VTab singing "I Know My Savior Loves Me". My inner stage mother is just popping.

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?