#73 "Out of the Crowd" (By Grandpa)

Dear Grandchildren,

Grandma has already sent to some the story of the ten buses, our trip to the city of Ayvalik and the nearby town of Cunda that sits on an island. Another story follows her story which is clearly connected to it. Here goes. For that day-long trip, I took with me a notebook in which I had written some Turkish vocabulary and grammar exercises. I wanted to study, just like the YVs were doing. (They went with us to join in our meeting with the sister member who lives in that area.) Of course, owing to my delapidated brain, I forgot the notebook as I cleared my items to take from the bus which had taken us to the distant city. I had slipped it into the pocket on the back of the seat in front of me. When I finally recalled my oversight, I recruited the YVs to talk to the bus line agents at the bus terminal and ask what I could do to recover my notebook. They did and the agents called someone at the end of the line in Çanakkale. The notebook, they promised, would be back in our city the next morning. No problem.

The YVs volunteered to go to the bus terminal in our city and retrieve the notebook. At first I thought, "You think I’m weak or something?" But a second thought told me that they would like a reason to climb on a bus the next day and talk to some people. So I agreed. The next morning, Friday, they were at a bus depot of sorts waiting to board the bus that goes to the main terminal. Just before climbing on, a fellow comes out of the crowd saying, "Mormon missionaries, Mormon missionaries. Where is your name on your chest?" At first, they thought they were in trouble. They had no idea what this fellow’s interest was in them. They spoke briefly with him and learned that he had been baptized almost thirty years before in the Canary Islands. They then climbed on the bus which was ready to leave. But wait. They had second thoughts. They could take a bus to get my notebook anytime. But they might lose an opportunity to establish contact with this man. They got off at the first bus stop and caught a taxi back to the depot. They then hunted for this fellow. By happy circumstance, they found him. Next, they spent an hour sitting on a bench with him and talking about his past. It was, as one of the YVs said, "the craziest day of my mission. It was wonderful."

It turns out that the fellow was indeed baptized in the Canary Islands within four months of that area becoming its own mission (1988). He remembered an Elder Allen from Montana who taught and baptized him. He said that he attended church meetings for ten years while living there and in Spain. But because his work was in the ocean shipping industry, he eventually moved and lost track of the Church. He said that he tried to find the Church in Turkey when he came back (this is where he was born). But he had no luck. Then last Friday happened. He came to church services today and beamed the whole time. He has never married, is almost sixty years of age, and is evidently unordained. We shall change this last circumstance within coming months, if he continues to come. Perhaps oddly, his membership record is in our branch, but with no notation of contact information. There was no way to reach out to him.

For Grandma’s birthday I rented a room in a nice hotel that has a bathtub, something that she has not reclined in since July 12, the day before we flew to Turkey. She seemed to be happy with the arrangement.

Last Monday, I went to see my voice/throat doctor. During the examination, he cleaned the wax out of my ears with a suction tube, leaving my left ear with the sense that I was hearing as if I were under water. I thought little of it at the time because I have never had my ears cleaned out. But I have seen only marginal improvement. So maybe I get a shot in my ear as well as botox shots in my throat tomorrow. More on these little adventures later.

We were 21 in our church services today. Thirteen were in our sacrament meeting in the hotel, with three investigators. These three, who all look professional, had found the website maintained by a branch president in the country and referred themselves. They are all Christian, are all Turks, and are all unhappy with the churches they have attended in the past. We shall see what happens. It could be really interesting.

During our branch conference at the beginning of May, the MP said a fair amount about weekly branch presidency meetings. I caved. I thought that every three weeks or so was often enough for a small fry operation like ours. During the past four weeks or so, we have been meeting every Sunday morning. To date, we have never had everyone there. One fellow came this morning with his two children in tow (they had nowhere else to go and could not travel to the hotel by themselves). Another person just forgot. Another was gone with work-related projects. Next week, at least one of our numbers will be in Europe. And so on and so forth. But I am going to play this one until I am convinced one way or another that we meet weekly or we don't. And I will have some experience to back up my decision. I know that most church leaders do not enjoy this kind of flexibility. In earlier callings, I did not -- as a rule. We do seem to have items to discuss each Sunday, although many are reviews of the previous week's discussion. For example, last week we discussed the possibility of enjoying a branch activity (bowling). This week we decided on a date and time. (Now that I check my calendar, we shall have to change the date. Ahhh. The blessings of old age and an old mind.)

I love you and pray for you all.

Grandpa Brown