To tell the truth, my birthday was pretty boring. I've always made it a policy to not announce my birthday to everyone, but let someone else do it. Little did I know that in Haiti, birthdays aren't a big deal, so my companion didn't tell anyone. As time went on at church, my countenance dropped lower and lower, and eventually found myself doubting my testimony. Not my testimony of the restored gospel, but my testimony of birthdays.
But I did manage to get a jar of the long-time coveted strawberry jam Sister Elsie makes. For the past 2 or 3 dinners she has given us, she had it on the table. I repeatedly said how much I love it, how I wish I could have it every day, etc. Despite all this, she never offered us some when they packaged up the leftovers for us, even though I knew that Brother Elsie knew I wanted some of it to take home - he would roll his eyes every time I mentioned it. He also knew it was me that told Elder Serat to call them before our dinner and tell them that that's the only thing I wanted for my birthday. "Mission accomplished" I thought as I walked out their door with a jar of jam. Brother Elsie somehow guessed that I had told Elder Serat to call them.
This week I had the opportunity of spending a few hours with the missionary I trained, Elder Smith. He's in our zone now. He's more mature and relaxed in the missionary work. And I was happy to see that he still uses his classic approach when we knocked a couple doors:
Big guy answers.
3 seconds of silence.
"Can I help you?" the man asks.
"Howya doing?" Elder Smith says quietly.
5 seconds of silence.
He begins, "Well, uh, we're just missionaries in the area..."
I love Elder Smith.
So that was the week. I'm 22 and already feel like a menace to society.
Oh, whoops, we're late for dinner!
Have a great week everyone!