Dear Grandchildren,
Just as we were settling into an indoor routine that was keeping us in the apartment and out of the heat, we assigned ourselves some tasks that took us back out into the warm crush of air. Well, we were not fully at fault for spending time out there.
We had fixed our plans to visit some members in a distant city and hold a sacrament meeting when, the night before, just before going to bed, I noticed emails from the attorney who now handles our temporary residence permits. So while kneeling for our evening prayers, I mentioned the emails to Grandma. You’d have thought I slapped her. Knowing the end from the beginning in a flash, as she does, she knew that she and I had just been robbed of some sleep. She would not hear my protestations that in the morning we could take care of any matters sent by him. So we arose from our knees and went to the laptop to see what this fellow had sent.
He had sent completed forms for our annual residence renewals. That was a happy piece of news. What Grandma caught and I missed was the notation in a box that we had an appointment at the government office the next morning at 11:00, just before we planned to take a train out of town. It is not like there is a train really often. The next one was to leave about 5:00 p.m., far too late to meet people for the sacrament meeting because the train takes more than four hours to reach its destination. By good fortune, we had gone this route before and we knew that buses run every half hour from a big bus depot on the edge of town, but at three times the cost.
We went to the government office an hour early, hoping that our place in the queue would get us in and out in time to catch the train. It was not to be. It appeared that people who had appointments at 10 a.m., an hour earlier than we did, had all come early too. We were too far down the line. We finally walked from the small waiting room into the office at two minutes to eleven o’clock, just 120 seconds before our scheduled appointment.
In his email, the attorney said that we would just drop off the forms. Ha! We sat with the officer and answered questions and signed forms for a good twenty minutes. By happy circumstance, Grandma had put everything that she could think of into a few plastic sleeves. We had everything that the officer wanted except that the law had changed from last year. How? Our lease agreement was to show both of our names, not just mine. So, to finish the process, we either go back to the relocation agent and ask him to get the landlord to change the agreement to show Grandma’s name, all of which will take a bunch of time, or I write a petitioning letter saying that Grandma and I are married and she wants to be counted as a resident in our apartment, then get the petition and rent agreement notarized (about $20 for each notary action), and then return to the office with these documents in hand. This latter set of actions, my friends, is one task that we shall try to complete during the coming week.
How did the Thursday sacrament meeting go? It went very well. Thank you for asking. One of our YSAs, who has been working locally and living in his parents’ home, joined us, as did a family of three and their non-member friends. We were eight for our meeting. The little boy, seventeen months, was all over the hotel room during our service. The sister in the family gave a talk on the family — in Farsi. Four of us in the room understood perfectly, the other three of us did not. I don’t count the little guy. But I had told this sister to feel free to give the talk in her native tongue. Afterward, Grandma and I took everyone up to the terrace café for a drink of soda pop. This experience sort of rounded off the evening for everyone. Well, almost. The couple invited us to their place for the rest of the evening. We went, even though it meant a late return to the hotel. But that is a small price to pay for a little more time with these good people.
I am reticent to say that we had already scouted out this terrace earlier for a meal. When we arrived at the hotel, we received coupons for soft drinks on the terrace. I asked the manager, who is from North Carolina of all places, whether the terrace was a place with food. Yes, he said, sandwiches and pizza. So we went to claim our drinks and we ordered pizzas. We saw the young waitress go to a telephone and call someone. She was evidently calling for our pizzas. They arrived twenty minutes later in the delivery boxes from an outside pizza joint. They were a bit overcooked. Never mind. Later, Grandma discovered a real restaurant on the main floor of the hotel. It would have been a much nicer experience to go there for a dinner rather than into the heat of the outside rooftop terrace at six o’clock.
In our fast and testimony meeting today, we were twenty-eight. Yes, twenty-eight. Fifteen in the hotel room and thirteen by Skype. (One of our branch members said that he has come to think of that hotel room as a holy place.) Besides our usual seven who show up most of the time, eight visitors walked in, three from Switzerland, four from Pleasant Grove, Utah, and one from a street near our flat. The latter lady happens to be the sister of the Turkish fellow who now lives in Switzerland. I am not sure whether before that moment she or anyone else in their family knew that he had accepted the message of the missionaries years ago and has been a Christian for years and years. Surely, this sister now knows. The sister from Switzerland thinks that her Turkish sister-in-law would make a superb Relief Society President. How is that for an endorsement? We dedicated our fasting to the peace and stability of Turkey as well as to the well-being of the Church in the country.
Another tid-bit. Last Sunday, after I sent out my message to you, we had opportunity to talk with Tanner via Facetime, just after he had given his welcome-home talk in his sacrament meeting. It was wonderful to see him and hear him and visit with him. He hadn’t lost his South African accent. Just listen especially to how he says the name Jesus Christ. I was touched to hear him say this sacred name.
Frozen in our minds and hearts, despite the warmth in the atmosphere, are the images and sounds that come from you whenever we have opportunity to talk you via FaceTime. I guess that we could do Skype. But whichever medium we employ, the treasure consists of you. From last Sunday, it was clear that Hannalyn does not recognize us. And why should she? She is still very young and we don't show up in her world. But from the rest of you and your children we feel this warm bath of love and interest, even if the length of time we spend together on such occasions is counted in seconds. Thanks for indulging us. We love you all and hope and pray for your well-being and protection.
I love you and pray for each of you every day.
Grandpa Brown
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