And to be honest, I’ve had worse. Haha. It actually tasted quite good.
(Random, I know. But I couldn’t bear if I forgot to mention that. Heck, I think I told you about eating chicken bones. Haggus is nothing compared to that.)
So. This week was fab.
First things first. Guess what I did. So we were tracting on exchange (I was in Tewkesbury). And I happened to look around, and I saw a rat run out into the middle of the road.
Disgusting. I know. Grandma probably already stopped reading. But we looked closer, and it wasn’t a rat. It was a hedgehog!!!!!!!!!!!! So being the five year old I actually am, I picked it right up. (didn’t even think twice about it.)
I’ve never learned anything about hedgehogs in my life. But I did find out they aren’t dangerous. (Best test ever—it was kinda pass/fail, which I always thought was easier.) (Movie quoting. Still. Some habits are hard to break.)
And I so held a wild hedgehog for like five minutes. It was the cutest thing of all time. But of course neither of us had our cameras with us. But I held a hedgehog. Fact. Oh I was so chuffed.
There’s a man named Clive who has been coming to church for ten years and hasn’t been baptised.
He’s been “working towards” his baptism for ten years. (There are some outside factors, but none worth ten years. In my mind.)
Sister Boots and I have been really pushy with him, but he loves it. (Normally if missionaries are pushy he ignores them, but for some reason he loves us.)
Which we of course use to our advantage.
We found out that he was Santa for the ward Christmas party this past weekend. So naturally we got in line to go see him.
(Please picture a line of 3 to 9 year olds, with two misssionaries randomly in the middle. We were getting some strange looks.)
When it was our turn, Santa asked what fancy things we wanted for Christmas. He said he was sure we had a very long list, because missionaries often did.
Sister Boots said “No, we’re pretty easy to please. We just want one thing, and we know you can handle it.”
Santa was intrigued.
So I told Santa that all we really wanted for Christmas was for a man named Clive Harris to be baptised.
For some reason, Santa went bright red! He was speechless. And he then laughed and laughed and said he’d put it on his list, and give Clive a ring about it when he got home.
The ward thought it was the most hilarious thing ever. The sister working Santa’s grotto started laughing so hard she was crying, and went out in the hall and told the Bishop. All day in church on Sunday members were congratulating us for it.
Personally, I think out of all of the baptismal invitations I’ve extended, that one is my favourite. Probably will be the only one like that.
And in a few weeks we’ll find out how good Santa is. ;)
And Martin came to church. Which was more interesting than good. But it’s too long and frustrating of a story to go into.
And other good things happened. But this is already uber long and rambly. So I will spare you further details.
To top it off though, tonight is transfer dodge. I am so nervous. I do not want to get moved two weeks before Christmas. The flat is trimmed up, the ward is phenomenal, it’s the most beautiful place in the world, and we are finally working with some great people. I will not deal well with leaving right now. I feel like a deer on the first day of hunting season.
Next week I’ll tell you if I got shot or if I made it out alive.
But until then, know I love you!
|They told us the area was dodgy. We didn't find out HOW dodgy it was till we got back to the car. (Just kidding. This is not our car. Although we are sending this pic to the vehicle coordinator for Christmas. haha.)|
|This house looks like it belongs in a Jane Austen novel. It was in a village where most of the houses were built in the 1700s! Alas, no one was home. Although we are pretty sure Mr. Knightley lived there, so we will be going back.|