Again So Soon?

Yes, I have to share before I forget the experiences of this week.  Each day is so full of surprises and blessings as well as challenges.  Our Merrell kids are en route now and will arrive tonight to spend 8 full days, not including travel days, seeing the island with us.  Leslie was born here during our first stay. We are excited for them to see her birthplace and make it a real part of their family history. But now, I will try to capture this week before it is a distant memory.

 I mentioned in the last post that we were preparing for a senior missionary FHE that night, and that Brett Macdonald, the church historian for Samoa, was teaching.  Instead of telling us of the first missionaries to Samoa, he shared journal entries from the first missionary couple to the South Pacific.  Actually, the journal entries were from the period shortly before they served as a couple. Louisa and Addison Pratt. The period was Nauvoo and the exodus west. Addison was called on a mission to the pacific islands, serving the majority of his time on the island of Tubuai. Louisa was left alone with the care of their 4 children, the youngest an infant.  He served five and a half years and it was well after the martyrdom of Joseph and Hyrum that he heard the news and could only wonder what had become of his wife and children.  It would be three years before he received a letter from Louisa.  On the day the prophet and his brother were murdered, Addison gave a blessing using the priesthood restored through that man. He wrote in his journal of the blessing given and his gratitude for the restored priesthood of God. On the same day Louisa wrote of the dark day of the martyrdom and the deep sorrow and darkness of spirit she felt.  Other journal entries juxtaposed against each other were poignant and had perhaps the effect he intended. We couple missionaries were able to put our challenges in perspective and feel so grateful to be serving together in this beautiful part of the world in the same cause and under far more favorable circumstances.

I have to share probably the most important thing Brother Macdonald said. He told us a little about himself and his family. He grew up in Hawaii, married a Samoan girl, and now they are raising their family in Samoa. He said his interest in the history of Samoa is at heart his desire that his children understand who they are by knowing something of the people they are a part of. He shares family history stories from his side as well, and all the lines that are a part of who they are.  He said this is very important especially for children of the islands.  Statistics tell the tale. Children of mixed heritage either become citizens of the world, comfortable in any society, or they feel that they don’t belong anywhere.  There is a disproportionate number of Polynesian youth involved in gangs in the US.  The Samoan people have not been record keepers. There is no written history of this nation and its people.  Brother Macdonald searches out the stories of his wife’s ancestors to give his children an anchor of faith and virtue from the examples of their very own family, and others of their Samoan culture and heritage.

The rest of the week was so incredibly busy at the temple that I don’t think I can adequately relate how that was for the patrons and for those of us trying to meet their needs. We’ve been told that now through August it will be this way. When school is out large groups come from the big island of Savaii and also from American Samoa to stay in patron housing and come daily to the temple. Their children perform baptisms for the dead and the parents participate in as many ordinances as time and space permit.  I will share two stories. 

Yesterday I became aware of a sister who was sitting in the locker room holding her foot which was bleeding pretty good.  She explained that she had somehow cut her big toe on the door of the temple when she entered.  I helped her into a private space and gave her some tissue to hold on her toe while I went in search of help.  Sister Sauni located some tape and came to help dress it.  The bottom of the ball of her foot and in between her toes were bloody, so before Sister Sauni arrived with supplies, I washed her foot, or rather wiped it off as best I could with wet paper towels.  Can you think with me how precious this experience was for me? When the cut was dressed and I was about to leave her, she kissed me on the cheek and said, “I love you Sister Crowley”.  We didn’t know each other but I do wear a tag. 

The last story started at Church last Sunday. In my last post I told of visiting with Sister Haleck, wife of Elder Vincent Haleck of the South Pacific area presidency. Also attending our ward that Sunday was a group of former missionaries and their spouses who had served under President Shute during 1968-71. [We were there just after him when Ralph Rodgers was mission president.]  In that group was a Samoan sister who had served her mission at that time. When she introduced herself and her black husband as Brother and Sister Freeman, I wondered.  In my visit with Sister Haleck, she confirmed that Sister Freeman’s husband was indeed Joseph Freeman Jr., the first black man to be ordained to the priesthood, on June 10, 1978, only 2 days after the official announcement was made that all worthy men now have the privilege of holding the priesthood of God. Sister Haleck said that both President Shute and her husband, Elder Haleck, had counseled Sister Freeman against marrying Brother Freeman, reminding her that their children would not be able to hold the priesthood.  “She married him anyway”, Sister Haleck said, and then added, “My husband says that was the worst piece of advice he has ever given.”  The Freeman’s were in the temple yesterday and we had opportunity to visit with them. They were kind enough to let us take pictures with them outside the temple.

I just had to share before we turn our attention to our visiting family. Very soon we will be driving to the airport to pick up our travel-weary kids and grandkids. My only regret is that there is only a sliver of a moon tonight, so they won’t get the view we had as we approached the airport. But there is time enough to see all we can pack into the next eight days. 

Good-night and God bless.

Five Days and Counting

It's Sunday afternoon here in somewhat blustery Samoa. It's midwinter here, you know. That makes for milder temperatures. It's been another wonderful Sabbath and once again I stand all amazed that we are here.  I have the sense that time is passing quickly and I on the other hand am definitely not as quick as I used to be.  That is a sobering concept to contemplate. By the end of the week we will have been here four months. Let's see four gusinta eighteen .... okay, sixteen divided by four is 25%, four into 2 goes .5 times, so does that mean at the end of the week 25.5% of our mission is over???? That is really scarey. Not only is the Lord hastening His work, He is shortening the days. Don't you think? I know for sure He is shortening the nights! Haha.

Speaking of shortening, I've made pies twice since we've been here: once for Brother Sauni's 80th birthday and once for lunch with the Fife's the week they left for the states. Sister Sauni sparked the pie making by asking me to teach her to make a pie [because it is her husband's favorite treat]. I'll let you know when the lesson happens and how it goes.  The first quest was to find pie tins. Sister Fife loaned me her disposable pie tins and said she found those right after Christmas, but hadn't seen any in any of the stores before or since. I guess it's kind of like the mail: pie tins after the holidays and my birthday card from Tiffany mailed in March has yet to surface. Thank heavens for email and cheap phone calls! Then we found some ourselves but couldn't confirm they were actually pie tins as the slant of the sides of the pans were somewhere between a cake pan and a pie tin and take my word for it, the slant of a pie tin is significant when it comes to placing the pie crust in the pan. The next challenge was to find a rolling pin. Eureka! We were so excited when we came across one. Not quite as excited when I got it home and realized it didn't live up to its name. It didn't roll. With time, it has loosened up a bit and only stalls occasionally. The good news is that among the miscellany we inherited from the Fife's, we now have a rolling rolling pin!

Wow. I really took a side trip there. Back to our Sabbath.  Elder Halek, counselor in the area presidency for the South Pacific attended our Pesega Lima ward today. It was fast and testimony day and he presided at the meeting and bore his witness of the Savior and this work we are all involved in.  Leon taught the lesson in  high priest group. He was already feeling anxious because of the high quality of the teaching here, and then President Halek sat right in front of him. As you already know, these men are men of God and so humble and personable. He participated in the lesson and was given time at the end to speak. His words complimented the lesson perfectly.

 I was able to visit with Sister Halek after our meetings and learned that her husband served as mission president here from 2008 - 2010. They were hugging and being hugged by so many they had known before. She said during their stay, President Hanks was temple president and he said the decision was made to send no more temple missionaries to Samoa. The temple had been here long enough to be self-sustaining and it was time for the local people to step up and fill the needs of the temple.  When she asked how many of us were serving now as temple missionaries, I was surprised myself to realize that we are the only ones without some blood connection to Samoa, well, other than our two daughters who were born here during our first stay.  Our sister missionaries were born here and living in Australia when called, Brother Merrick is palagi, married to Fiesta who is Samoan by birth and raised here with a large family of aunts and uncles, cousins, including her uncle, President Fitisemanu. As you may remember, Merrick's are not officially on a mission, but came to serve none-the-less.  Sauni's are also not officially missionaries, but definitely Samoan and definitely temple workers.

Fitisemanu's invited us all to lunch at their home after church.  You would not believe the amount of food.  President commented on the blessings of abundance here in Samoa. "You will never hear of a Samoan that goes hungry or dies from lack of food." I was glad he added, "Of course many die from too much food" because it is true.  Heart conditions, diabetes and high blood pressure are all common. They probably look with suspicion on a skinny person. Like, what's with that?? Did you forget to plant your taro?  But we are learning to guage what we can handle and stopping at what we know is our limit. Taking small or mini portions of many things, gravitating to any and all vegetables in a dish, and never passing up a salad.  Today I mistook the raw fish which was in a sauce with other things as being a fruit salad. I ate my first raw fish. It was actually very good. (Some of our kids are cheering). For Max's 10th birthday dinner, he chose sushy.) I'm not even sure how to spell it.

In one hour our Samoan neighbors and fellow temple workers will be here to help prepare for the senior missionary FHE tomorrow night. Our district is in charge this week. Our guest speaker will be Brother McDonald, church historian here in Samoa. He is an excellent teacher, so knowledgable and interesting. He will be telling us about the very first missionaries to Samoa. We are also going to give out the words to the national anthem and sing it together. Doesn't that sound fun? I hope our neighbors don't feel they have to bring platters of food for refreshements. That will be the tendency.

As Leon says, I was born with a lot of words. I fear this post is more interesting to me than to anyone else. Thanks for caring. I will have a LOT of interesting things to write about next time because our Leslie and James Merrell, Ben and Brianna are arriving at the Faleolo Airport this Friday, July 12th at 11:40 p.m. !!!
Until next time, manuia le po ma tofa soifua!  Five days and counting!

Our Week in Review

Warning: It may take you a week to get through this. It wasn't easy for us to get through it either.

Remember the little quote that went around awhile ago that went something like, “Dear God, today I haven’t said an unkind thing, been sarcastic, passed up an opportunity to help, or said or done anything I regret.  But the alarm just went off and now I’m going to get out of bed.  I’m going to need all the help I can get.”  I used to think that was funny.  Now it sounds a lot like my prayers. I've had a few revelations lately about the distance between who I am and who I thought I was. A good friend told me that her children said that they learned a lot about themselves on their missions. It certainly is true for me. I’ll spare you the details. 

I started writing an email a week or so ago, sharing the progress I’ve made and the confidence I had gained in using the Samoan language in the temple ordinance. “Fate” intervened and the email disappeared before I could send it. Today at church, a Samoan brother who serves in the temple said good-naturedly to me, “Sister Crowley, you need to learn the Samoan language.”  At first I didn’t realize his reference because I didn’t recognize him as one who had been at the veil with me this past week when the patron needed help and all of a sudden I needed help. It seems I am still in the learning phase. So much for confidence. I could go on and on, but neither you nor I want to relive any more of my revelatory moments.

This past week was significant in our lives here and has left me humbled to the core.  On Monday after our housekeeping chores at the temple, we gathered for a potluck at the Fitisemanu’s home Sister Fitisemanu invited us by phone on Saturday, saying that a man and his wife were going to entertain us with music after lunch and that this would serve as our scheduled FHE.  As it turned out, the ‘man and his wife’ turned out to be every man and his wife. Something obviously got lost in translation. It was evident that the others were aware of this. Fife’s and President and Sister Pauga (counselor and assistant) both had lyrics to their songs printed up to hand out to all of us.  President Pauga (say Pa-oonga) conducted in Samoan and we somehow missed that we were to follow the Fife’s contribution. Neither of us caught that. But we did get the drift that at some point it would be our turn to sing, so we whispered our plan to each other and relaxed and enjoyed listening. All of these temple missionaries sang songs from the hymn book as Sister Fitisemanu accompanied on the piano. It was a sweet time and we were enjoying it very much.  Then Pauga’s led us in  a rousing song that you are no doubt familiar with, but I can’t for the life of me tell you what it’s called.  It is a song that repeats the chorus, adding a musical instrument each time after a verse, complete with pantomime. Sister Pauga is quite a character and everyone was laughing and having a great time.  Then President Pauga called on us. I said, “You want us to sing after that??”  Everyone laughed as the mood had changed and it seemed to be a fitting end to a song fest.  We were willing and ready anyway, but he took that to mean we were declining to participate. He quickly called upon President and Sister Fitisemanu to sing the final song and then asked Leon to offer the benediction. We were stunned. Not forewarned, but willing, then passed over, being the only people in the room not contributing. Again,“Sister (and Brother) Crowley, you need to learn the Samoan language.” 

Tuesday was a busy day with 4 proxy baptisms, back to back, with ward youth groups of approximately 24 boys and girls participating in each.  That generates a lot of laundry, which was still going on at 9:00 p.m.. Leon and I took pity on our faithful counterparts, the Sauni’s (next door neighbors) and Sister Moaga, who hold up such a standard of service and consecration that we are working in their shadow, and will never be able to keep up with them. They work both shifts at the temple every day.  Brother Sauni is also included in the demanding schedule they choose to keep. He celebrated his 80^th birthday one week ago. Sister Sauni, his wife will celebrate her 46^th birthday this Thursday. I could do an entire post introducing these valiant souls to you. 

I realize that I never let you know that the Ho-Chings (counselor in the temple presidency and assistant to the matron) were released after their emergency flight to the states for her surgery and are back living in Arizona. We have been w/o a fully functioning temple presidency since then.  I’ve written about Chuck and JoAnn Fife, temple missionaries who with the Ho-Chings helped us transition into mission life.  In yet another hurried departure, the Fife’s caught a midnight flight home Friday and have been released from their mission.  Their son, Tony, has somehow beaten the odds of pancreatic cancer life expectancy by living more than a year since his diagnosis shortly before his parents received their call in the spring of 2012. On Wednesday they received word from their children that they were needed at home. Now. They came by our apartment with the news that night and the thing we feared was now a reality.

I woke around 2 a.m. Thursday with the ramifications of their leaving swirling in my head.  We invited them to lunch and prepared a nice meal that morning.  That was inspiration as that was the only quality time we had with them in the very busy two remaining days of their stay. Soon after our shared lunch, Leon and I reported at the temple where we served until the temple closed at 9 p.m.. It was a difficult day which was made more difficult by challenges to our focus and purpose which I choose not to elaborate on, only to say I exerted great energy to remain focused. It was on this day that I lost that focus at the veil, resulting in the comment quoted above of the need to learn the language. 

Though we were working the afternoon/evening shift this week, we reported Friday morning at 5 a.m. in order to attend a missionary buffet at the Tanoa Tusitala Hotel, which was already scheduled and would serve as an opportunity for all the senior missionaries to say their good-byes to the Fife’s before catching their midnight flight home. There is a brief preparation meeting in the matron’s office/bride’s room at 5:20 a.m.. When I entered the room and sat down, Sister Fitisemanu welcomed me and immediately said with great enthusiasm, “You will be our shift coordinator today.”  Please understand, dear reader, that this has been my greatest fear. I have witnessed the great challenge of covering all the ordinances and other service given to the patrons with very few workers to cover these assignments. It is a game of robbing Peter to pay Paul and I have observed Sister Moaga in particular, working every moment to see where she can borrow from one area to cover a more immediate need. Those who have known and served with me in our home ward or stake know that I spend great effort in planning and preparing well in advance of any assignment.  This is a situation where you  must do the best you can with who you have to work with and what the schedule is for the day.  You don’t know the schedule until you arrive, and never how many workers will be there that day. With guidance and support, I successfully navigated the shift with no apparent disasters.

You can stop reading any time.  Later during this Friday morning shift, Sister Fitisemanu called me into her office again and said she would like me to take this as a regular assignment on Friday mornings.  As she saw the terror in my eyes, and listened to my concerns, she relieved me of that assignment and left it as just for today. Then once more I was summoned and asked if I would accept an assignment as assistant to the coordinator on Friday mornings, serving with Sister Merrick.  Brother and Sister Merrick are here w/o an official mission call.  Brother Jim Merrick has leukemia and Sister Fiesta Merrick has congestive heart failure. Knowing they would never pass the physicals required to be issued a mission call, they came on their own to serve in the temple. They have been here less time than we have. She accepted the call, knowing less than I do since her main assignment has been in the baptistery and laundry with assignments in other areas. When offered the assignment, Sister Merrick responded, “Yes, Auntie, you know me. I will figure it out. But I want Sister Crowley to serve with me as my assistant.” [Fiesta is niece to President Fitisemanu.)  I told Sister Fitisemanu I was happy to be an assistant and to serve with Sister Merrick.

I have shed tears over my lack of faith. I have thought of the Savior who did not ‘shrink’ from the awful suffering required of Him in order to protect my agency. I am ashamed that I shrank from the assignment. I will say that I told Sister Fitisemanu that I would accept if that was the Lord’s will, and was surprised that she reacted to my reluctance and concerns by removing the request.  He who hesitates loses out.  So, while I am comforted by sharing the assignment with a sister I love dearly, I realized as we talked that I understood the assignment better than she. That may have played into her willingness and my reluctance. Nevertheless, the Lord will help us both to grow and help His work go forward.

Saturday is the longest shift we work: 4 a.m. until the temple closes at noon.  My assignment was the baptistery. We had 3 baptisms, and the laundry to go with it.  I was often alone, which was fine as I was able to sit quietly in between duties, and enjoy one-on-one quiet conversations with workers who came and went by assignment. I learned many things as I asked about their lives and also about the original temple, which burned down and led to the construction and dedication of this temple in 2005. I was thankful to serve in the baptistery for the first time because as assistant coordinator on Fridays, that will be part of my responsibility to oversee. 

At church on Sunday a visitor introduced herself in Sunday School as Ann Howell from Holladay, Utah, on a tour of the islands of Tahiti, Fiji, Tonga, Samoa and American Samoa. After the meeting, I asked her to tell me more and we sat together in Relief Society. I learned that she was widowed 2 years ago after caring for her husband for a number of years due to a stroke and eventual dementia. She is traveling alone and had no plans for the rest of her Sabbath, so we invited to spend it with us. She is a delightful soul who loves to travel, mostly because of the people she meets. What a privilege for us to be part of her memory of Samoa. After lunch, she and I made a pot of a wonderful Samoan treat, supoese. [ Say soup –o- essay]  Mostly we heard about her experiences on this tour, gave her a ride back to her hotel that she described as a Motel 1 [think Motel 6]. 

That was our week # 13.5 in Samoa. Below are pictures of people I’ve mentioned in this post. No post should ever be this long. I apologize. The good thing is you can just stop any time and I’ll never know.

Brother and Sister Sauni, two of our heroes.

Sister Nele Moaga (She teaches us Samoan words and laughs at us.)

Brother and Sister Fife, now of Idaho Falls, ID.

Ann Howell, our Sunday visitor.

Lessons From the Ship

“There’s a ship lies rigged and ready in the harbor, and tomorrow for old England she sails.”  That line from a song of  Roger Whitaker’s keeps running through my mind.  There was a ship in the harbor for the past  two weeks and on Monday it did sail, not for old England, but for Tonga, Fiji, Tahiti and the Marshall Islands. My heart was a little sad at its leaving.  When we were in town Monday I asked Leon to drive down by the harbor to see if it had gone.  The harbor looked empty without the silhouette of the USS Pearl Harbor against the sky.  I can’t explain why it made me sad.  Maybe it was the connection we felt to  Dr. Scott Hurd who became our friend so quickly, a brother in the gospel, and an important part of the ship’s mission.  Maybe it was the energy it evoked with its multi-national passenger list of young men and women, and some not as young, who ‘went about doing good’ among these islands, promoting good health practices, dental hygiene, clean water and food preparation.  The marines on board rebuilt a bridge that was out after the cyclone of last December. There were disaster management sessions, which drew on the experience and knowledge of local agencies as well as those who came to teach and to learn from others.

Twenty two of us senior missionaries took a tour one week ago of the USS Pearl Harbor, a relatively new ship christened in 2005 and which is the only ship to ever have borne that name.  It was well worth the hour we spent on board.  I believe we saw 90% of the ship. The only area I know we didn’t visit was in the belly of the ship where the ammo is kept for the defensive weapons on board and also where they store the munitions for the marines they transport in times of war.  The ship is amphibious, which means it is capable of loading and unloading landing craft, machinery and men by lowering one end of the ship up to 15 feet into the water.  It has the capacity of handling 2 helicopters on its landing deck, mostly for refueling as it has no hanger on board.

If Leon was writing this, I’m certain he would have a different perspective and would have been impressed with things I likely have forgotten or barely understood.  What struck me was what we learned in the bridge of the ship. That’s where all the navigation takes place.  As you might expect, there was lots of  electronic equipment for gathering useful information and translating that into action.  There was also a white board of sorts (it was actually black, but same idea) with lots of hand written notes and symbols.  The advantage here, it was noted, was that receiving information directly from on board crew members and writing that information on the ’white board’ avoids the possibility of hackers intercepting the message.  There was an area for paper charts and hand written calculations and notes next to the sophisticated tracking devices that help the ship to avoid natural dangers, such as shallow waters or underwater obstacles,  as well as enemies (or as our young lieutenant tour guide referred to them, our ‘frienamies’, since in today‘s political climate we have no enemies).  These calculations are made by a crew member trained to do just that, and not as a result of consulting the technical data, thereby establishing a principle that should sound familiar, i.e., providing a second witness to confirm the data.

We exited the enclosed bridge through a door on the right and we were standing on a forward deck, which name we can’t recall. It is a small area looking out over the bow of the ship from its elevated position.  There are huge binoculars through which you could see clearly anything on the horizon.  There is against the railing a vertical metal pipe or tube about  6” in diameter with a cap attached. By lifting the cap and speaking into the tube or pipe, your voice is carried to other areas on the ship, including the captain’s quarters.  The lieutenant explained a set of flags which are carried on board all sea-going vessels, which are universally understood.  When other types of communication are ill advised or impossible, the flag can signal the ship’s intent, it’s cargo, whatever pertinent information it wishes to communicate for its own safety and protection as well as other purposes.

After showing and telling of these various time-honored, universally understood, simple tools, he concluded by saying that by employing this knowledge, it is possible for a ship to navigate safely when other more sophisticated methods are inadvisable or unavailable.  A ship can safely sail with just the knowledge and practice of its crew working together with their combined and shared understanding of the ship, the sea, and their ultimate destination.

Do you remember hearing the prophets refer to the gospel as The Good Ship of the Gospel?  The counsel is to stay with the Good Ship of the Gospel.  The simple basics of daily personal and family worship, attending our meetings regularly, partaking of the sacrament, attending the temple, serving each other, and following the Prophet, taken together will ‘guide us safely home’. All of these practices are within reach of every one of us.  It is simple and basic and it works.  That is what I remember most about the USS Pearl Harbor. That is what it taught me.

The Good Ship lies rigged and ready in life’s harbor. (I feel an old gospel song coming on.)  Sing with me, brother, oh yeah, we are on the Good Ship!  Man your stations!  Anchor away!  Full speed ahead!  Woohoo! I am soo grateful to be sailing with you!

 USS Pearl Harbor, anchored in Apia Harbor, June 2013

Supply boat inside the ship used to unload w/o a dock. 

 Looking at the flight deck.

Looking over the bow of the ship from the deck to the right of the bridge.

The flag says, "Don't Tread on Me"

A Princess, a Doctor, Aussies,and a Mutant Bomb

Hello from the island paradise of Samoa where we have just celebrated 51 years of independence! Today is a holiday.  There is a US Navy vessel in the harbor, the skies are once again blue after several days of rain, and we are enjoying our P-Day, awaiting the hour when we will take a tour of said ship. We have been saddened by the news of terrible destruction and loss of life in Oklahoma from hurricanes.  We hope all is well with you.

This is the season when senior missionaries come and go.  In my last post I shared with you about the mission nurse and her husband, the Hanson's, now back home in Payson, UT, enjoying their family again.  Last week the Johnson's, auditors for the church here in Samoa and in American Samoa, said their good-byes. and flew home to Detroit, MI. This was their fourth mission, and as Sister Johnson said, this was the icing on the cake.  At their farewell dinner last Monday night, we were all introduced to the Goodlets, our newest missionary couple who hail from Australia in a very rural area, the nearest city is Perth.  Their property backs up to a 45,000 acre reserve.  They have kangaroos hopping across their property all the time. Elder Goodlet says "Kangaroos are delightful animals. They destroy the garden; you have to choose the garden or the kangaroos. We choose the kangaroos."  Elder Goodlet's assignment is to oversee the technical classes.  He is a retired large equipment diesel mechanic.  Sister Goodlet will look after home economics classes.  Delightful describes the Goodlets.  He has a mop of white hair and until this mission had always sported a handlebar mustache.  He feels quite naked w/o it.  She has rather wild yellow hair, long and contained with clips, and a whimsical face, with a turned up nose and beautiful blue eyes with brows that ask a question.  He said the students asked if he could speak Samoan. When he said, no, he is pretty sure they said, "Good".

So, do you want to hear about the Princess?  Good, because I want to tell you about her.  She is four years old.  At that tender age, she has learned to do the traditional siva (dance) done by the daughter of the village chief or matai.  Her name is Whitney. She is the granddaughter of the mission cook whose name I cannot remember.  She, the cook, became close to the Hanson's as they were in and out of their office in the  mission home and tending to sick elders.  When she was off island for a couple of weeks, Hanson's stepped in and fed a huge number of missionaries during her absence.  She and her husband were guests at the Hanson's farewell dinner.  They surprised us all by bringing little Whitney, dressed in the traditional village princess attire, who danced for us to the accompaniment of her grandparents and her mother who sang and played as she danced. Little Whitney sat directly across the table from me after her dance and let me tell you, she is a good little eater!  We loved each other with our eyes and my heart was full, thinking of my own precious grandchildren. Her grace in dance at such a tender age was truly remarkable.

Two weeks ago, a visitor at church introduced himself as Scott Hurd, here in connection with Pacific Partnership 2013, a medical humanitarian project. We spoke with him after the meetings and invited him home with us for lunch. He spent the afternoon with us and we felt that we were old friends by the time he left.  Dr. Hurd is stationed at Virginia Beach, where he is responsible for readying the troops before they are sent to Afghanistan and such places, by educating them about how to maintain their health and how to treat themselves when necessary. He is a preventative medicine doctor.  He is also a faithful latter-day saint, father of seven and husband of the newly called stake relief society president in their stake. His job here was to take care of all the logistics and make all the connections to prepare the way for the medical team that arrived late last week to conduct educational health clinics all over the islands of Samoa.  The ship in the harbor brought all the needed equipment and the medical team.  With Dr. Hurd's help, we organized a tour of the ship for the senior missionaries this afternoon.  That will be a subject of a future post.

And then there is Henry.  And his Mutant Bomb, aka 199_ Mitsubishi.  Henry is probably the youngest temple worker in the Apia Samoa Temple. He has an irresistible grin.  He lives far away and upland on the mountain, which requires him to walk an hour just to get to the road where he can catch the bus for another hour ride to the temple. Leon became acquainted with Henry by enlisting his help in learning the veil ordinance in Samoan. Then Henry came home with Leon and had lunch with us after the temple shift. This has become a pretty regular occurrence. As they became acquainted, Henry began telling him about a car that had been given to his father and that it needed brakes.  The more he shared about the car, it became apparent that it needed more than brakes. A lot more.  Finally, Leon suggested that Henry take pictures of the car's innards, so he would have a better idea of what it would take to fix the car.  On his most recent visit, Henry brought pictures, and a friend, whose English is better, to translate.  I felt like I was in a doctor's office with the doctor and the family of the patient. The doctor was as diplomatically as possible explaining to the family that the patient was terminally ill and the best and most humane thing to do would be to pull the plug and end the suffering.  There was that look on Henry's face that said he had not realized it was that serious. It was shock and what I thought was acceptance.  Not so. Within days, a wiry little bit of a man with a grin that strongly resembled Henry's, knocked at our door and handed me a key.  It seems that against the doctor's precise orders that the patient, - er- the car NOT be moved, for goodness sake and for the sake of all involved, that it not be driven OR towed off the mountain, because with all its other failings, the car definitely did NOT have brakes, it had indeed been driven, towed, levitated, however in the world it was done, the car was now at the Pesega School Auto Shop awaiting a miracle cure. The end of the story will have to wait.

The vibrant colors of Samoa are not restricted to the vegetation, the sunrise and sunsets. They are in and part of the human experience here in this unique and beautiful part of the world.  

This little area between the mission home kitchen and the conference room served as Whitney's stage.

Doctor Scott Hurd. He's the one not wearing a missionary tag.

Do you ever have to stop and think about on which side of the car you are currently driving is the gas tank located?  Not a problem in the Mutant Bomb. It's inside the car.  Yep. fill 'er up, Matey. I'll hand it to you. Now you understand the Bomb part of the name of the car.

What a beautiful temple!

"... I Remember Those Who are Upon the Isles of the Sea"

When the Lord says, "I am able to do my work", I believe that promise included providing for his children upon the isles of the sea, even providing for their medical emergency needs when logically there is no help available in many such cases.

Just last week the mission nurse and her husband, Elder and Sister Hanson, completed their 18 month mission and returned to their home in Payson, Utah, their four married children and the grandchildren they had missed so much, ....that is when they had time to think about home.  Their mission, Elder Hanson serving as his wife's assistant (as he expressed it, he paddled her canoe) took them all over Upolu, Savaii, and Tutuila ( American Samoa), treating any and all physical complaints of the young elders and sisters serving in the Samoa mission.  They were essentially on call 24/7 for a year and a half.  Besides the young missionaries, they were a comfort and a help to the senior missionaries and the mission home staff as well.  Elder Hanson told a story from their mission experience that I want to share with you.  He was kind enough to leave a copy of a newsletter he sent to family and friends telling of this extraordinary experience.

Before I share the Hanson's experience with you, let me share some of the miracles that we were close to forty years ago. While in Salt Lake for the October General Conference in June of 1971, Percy Rivers, one of the priesthood leaders from our stake here in Pesega, had a heart attack, which would have taken his life had he been here at the time.  Elder Russell M. Nelson was the surgeon who operated on him and extended his life and service here among his people.  We learned that the exact scenario had taken place with another priesthood leader from Samoa not long before we were here; that is he experienced a heart attack while attending general conference, and Elder Nelson was the attending surgeon. Coincidence?

Just a few weeks before we were scheduled to return home in June of 1974, Leon was in his wood shop at CCWS in the middle of the school day.  One of his students was shaping a bowl on the lathe.  A screw came loose and caused the lathe to increase to full speed, throwing the bowl into the face of the student with such force that he was flipped over, head down and feet up.  When Leon got to him, he saw that the blow had opened a hole in the young man's cheek and jaw exposing his throat.  At that precise moment, school superintendent, Sam Atoa drove his station wagon up to the dock connected to the shop.  The two of them loaded the student into the vehicle and drove to the Moto'otua Hospital, now known as the National Hospital, minutes away. It happened that a visiting plastic surgeon from Germany was just exiting surgery as they arrived. He quickly prepared himself and the room and immediately began to put this boy's face back together.  After eight hours he emerged from the operating room to report that he had successfully connected the nerves, the glands, secured the bones supporting the eye, put his jaw back together and the prognosis was that he would have full function of his eye, facial nerves, saliva glands, would have no permanent damage and little scarring.

Let's count the miracles:

1. Superintendent Atoa had not once before in the 3 years of Leon's tenure visited his shop.
2. A renowned  plastic surgeon just happened to be visiting the hospital.
3. The surgeon had just finished a lengthy surgery and was available.
4. All of the intricate pieces were in tact enough to reconstruct the boy's face.
5. Those who knew him have said that you would not ever know he had been injured.

So if you're still with me, I will give the Reader's Digest version of the Hanson's miraculous story.  I will use quotation marks when quoting directly from Elder Hanson's newsletter.

He tells the story of Sister Aiono (Eye-oh-no). When Maggie Aiono was four years old, she was hit by one of the many buses that provide the main source of transportation for Samoans all over the island. The accident resulted in the loss of her left leg and left her a cripple. "Probably with the assistance of a missionary or a doctor, the Shriner's Charity in the US found out about little Maggie. . ..took the needed measurements, and Maggie received her first prosthesis. Her life changed once again--she learned how to run and play with her friends, and was even a severe threat on the volleyball courts seen in every Samoan village."

Maggie continued to get help from Shriner's, receiving her last prosthesis leg at 16. At 18 she was no longer eligible for help from them.  When she turned 21, she turned in her papers and was called to serve her mission in her homeland of Samoa.  "By now she had grown another inch or two . .. .and the leg had taken a real beating. The foot had literally been worn through by the steel post that gave strength to the leg and she found herself walking on the metal end. Somewhere she found some heavy industrial rubber pieces and attached them to the post to soften the shock of each step. To maintain the appearance of a foot, she taped the remnants of the old one to the leg. The result was a hobbling limp that brought pain to her hip and back, but at least she could walk."

Serving in the Samoa Apia Mission, her main mode of transportation was walking. Six to eight miles a day is usual.  "In spite of Sister Aiono's determination, she had finally been faced with an obstacle she could not surmount. Sister Hanson, the mission's Registered Nurse, sought help from the Area Medical Advisor, Dr. Anton Anderson, but although a search for a solution was made, nothing came of it."  

Though the Hanson's had previously been attending a Samoan speaking ward, they "had strong feelings that they should be attending the only English speaking ward on the island -- the Pesega 5th. Soon after [they began attending the new ward], some visitors came -- Brother & Sister Bracken from Saint George, Utah.  They had business in American Samoa,, and although they had not planned to travel to Samoa, they yielded to an impulse and made the flight across the ocean to Apia and sought out a place to attend church."  As Nylene Bracken was being introduced in Relief Society, relating this unexpected visit, she was asked,"what is your husband's business?"  "He's a Prosthetic Engineer"  "Sister Hanson felt as though she had been hit by a bolt of lightening. She jumped to her feet and said, "I know why you are here. Can I talk to you when this meeting is over?"

Arrangements were made for Brother Bracken to meet with Sister Aiono the next morning in the mission compound. Brother Bracken assessed what was needed to repair and rebuild the leg; parts were ordered and arrived 6 weeks later. Brother Hanson worked through the night rebuilding the badly damaged leg, being coached via skype by Brother Bracken who had returned to the states. A trial fitting, adjustment made, and Sister Aiono was walking 3 miles a day and no longer needed a cane.

"A month later all of the missionaries on the island were called to a special meeting presided over by Elder Dallin H Oaks who was visiting the mission.  Elder & Sister Hanson were seated in the chapel across from the Apia Samoa Temple when Sister Aiono walked down the aisle with her companion to take their seats. Tears came to both of the older missionaries eyes as they watched this beautiful young lady. There was nothing that would tell any observer that she was walking on an artificial leg. The limp was completely gone, and in addition she had lost about 20 pounds. She was a beautiful sight to behold."

Are you still with me?  Then this is meant to reward you for your persistence.  I've mentioned that President and Sister Ho-Ching of our temple presidency left nearly two weeks ago for their home in Arizona to receive needed medical attention for an undiagnosed debilitating pain that Sister Karen Ho-Ching was experiencing.  It turned out to be a pinched nerve and resulted in surgery to remove and replace two discs with stainless steel discs. Thankfully the surgery was successful and she is doing well.  As Karen was coming out of the anesthetic in ICU, a nurse, obviously distressed,  rushed out of her room and asked her daughter, "Does your mother speak a foreign language?"  "Yes, why?"   "Because we can't understand a thing she is saying."  Her daughter followed the nurse back into the room and translated.  She told the nurses, "Mom is asking to see your temple recommends."  Ha ha!  We are hoping to have them back to finish out their mission. They are sorely missed.

Thanks to all of you for prayers and sustaining words.  "God bless us, every one!" ~ Tiny Tim

Sister Crowley

Growing Pains

What a week this has been!  Did you ever have 'growing pains' when you were young and growing?  I did.  I guess my mom asked the doctor about the pain I experienced occasionally, which to be honest I couldn't accurately describe today. I do remember a specific time that whatever the pain was, I found it difficult to walk home from a friend's house some distance away due to this 'growing pain'. So maybe the doc told her not to worry, that it was just 'growing pains'.

This week I have experienced 'growing pains' once more, but not the kind that respond to a heating pad. These are the areas - and I can clearly identify them for you - where growth (hopefully) is occurring. I may not be as accurate in identifying the cause. My experience is that it can usually be traced to one or all of these three common problems: pride, vanity, or selfishness.  Hey, that can't be. Can it?  So the areas that are causing so much pain are (1) Samoans speak waaay too fast! Samoans speak slang, which greatly hinders learning by listening.  For nearly every 'T' they substitute a 'K'.  Believe me, this is a problem.  (2) When you ask a Samoan a question, no matter what the right answer is, they may smile and nod "Yes".  That may mean they do not speak English and did not understand, but sometimes the answer to 'do you speak English' is also a smile and an affirmative nod.  Communication is a real problem when they ask you a question as well.  Especially if you don't understand that you have just been asked to do something and you didn't get that message at all so you don't show up for an assignment.  (3) Samoans don't like to be corrected. Of course that is not true of all Samoans, . . .. Okay, three or four patrons this week.  Combine the speed of their speech, and their determination to press forward and not respond to gentle, persistent efforts to instruct, well, it's a problem. It's especially a problem when the 'instructor' has just barely learned herself.  "Did I hear what I thought I heard? or Did I not hear what I should have heard?"  It's not possible to have an instant replay.

Growing pains also came as a result of facing a very real possibility that the Ho-Chings, our friends and mentors, may not be able to finish their mission.  We have grown to love them and we have depended on them like a new convert depends on the missionary who introduced them to the gospel and baptized them.  They have played such a crucial role in helping us in the temple, and in everyday life. Sister Ho-Ching is very ill and as a result she and President Ho-Ching, counselor to president Fitisemanu, are back in the states to get a proper diagnosis and treatment.  He also has severe pain in his ankle, which has been getting worse. He is diabetic. Of course we are anxious to hear from them and pray a positive outcome and for their return, the good Lord willing.  Without them, we have had numerous and varied opportunities for growth.

This is what the "Doctor" ordered for these growing pains: a big dose of humility and patience, to be taken daily as needed, preferably with a large glass of understanding.  The fine print is the most important part.  This is what it says.  "These children of the Islands are My children. Do you see the evidence of My love for them?  Is there any hunger here? Any war? Poverty?  Is there beauty here?  Abundance?  Do you know of their sacrifice to visit My House?  Do you understand the miles they walk, the hours they spend waiting for a bus?  Do you see how they love each other?  Do you feel the love they show you?  Do you notice the limping ones, the blind ones and the aged? Do you sense their faith, how strong it is?  Have you ever seen a House of the Lord more beautiful than this one I have provided for My Samoan children?  Do you realize what a privilege I have granted you to serve them here in My House?  Were you not aware that serving a mission is hard work? That it requires sacrifice and obedience, and selflessness?"

He promises if I will continue to take my medicine every day that I will grow strong and capable of serving my mission with honor and without regret.  I have the best Doctor. I've learned to trust His diagnosis and treatment.