Dear Grandchildren,
You know it has to be a very slow week if a major event is an airplane ride. Well, this was almost a main event. Truth be told, it was two airplane rides, one to Ankara and one from that city. The city itself, which holds a population of about four million persons, sits among rolling hills. A cyclist’s nightmare or dreamscape, depending whether he/she likes to ride up hills all the time. Forget about going downhill. Those rides are over way too soon to even count. The ride is always up hill. Or feels like it. Actually, we had been in the Ankara airport to change planes once. That was it. This time we took a taxi all the way to the city center, and then beyond, to a nice hotel that sits across the street from the very commodious branch house. That branch house was our destination. For Friday evening I gave a fireside in that building and afteward Grandma made contact with all kinds of people who want some help with family history things.
Want to know something about the fireside? Well, it started Thursday when I asked the YVs to give me a blessing for my voice. It has been on the fritz since my procedure three weeks ago, and my follow-up visit to the doctor earlier in the week was not one that would enhance my teeny weeny breathy voice. On that occasion, he slipped a tiny camera up my nose, guided it into my throat, and proceeded to hit the one spot that brings out the best of my gags (not jokes). I was lucky to stay seated calmly in the examination chair, although my throat took extreme exception to the activity. But I survived the examination. The next exam will presumably be less invasive, in his office.
After the YVs gave the blessing to me, mentioning specifically the good functioning of my voice at the coming fireside, I was full of confidence. But that did not stop me from praying a lot before the hour came. I am happy to report that things went well. My voice was barely above a whisper when I started. But it strengthened as I went along, as Grandma observed. A wireless microphone helped a lot too. I was to talk about the Apostle Paul’s travels in ancient Turkey, which I did. I also threw in some information about the times that the Apostles Peter and John spent in this remarkable country. Got you there, didn’t I? Peter made it as far as Antioch/Antakya, according to the second chapter of Paul’s epistle to the Galatians. And then in his own first epistle, Peter wrote to church members in northern and western Turkey/Asia, hinting that he was acquainted with them after traveling in those areas. Besides, a couple of early Christian writers record that he traveled through those regions, making the case more firm.
I don’t want to leave anything undone. Nashelle has just completed the first step in taking over the theater that she has bought in Vernal — getting it clean. A big bunch of young people worked hard for a couple of days and cleaned the thing from top to bottom, an activity that, Nashelle said, would have taken her a couple of years by herself. Congrats, my dear, at the first big step. And tons of thanks to those young helpers.
We were fifteen in our branch meeting today, with no one joining by Skype. The few who might have joined us from afar were experiencing internet woes where they were. Our number at the hotel included a branch president from Ukraine and his three very rambunctious children who had the place scoped out very soon after arriving. And our most faithful person to join by Skype has been in Germany with her children visiting her parents. So it was odd to look at the place in the room where the Skype people usually appear on the laptop screen and see no one. But next week will bring another opportunity to include those people out there.
I am sitting with a piece of Grandma's carrot cake in front of me. It is pleading for me to eat it. I must obey. As I usually do, I say to myself, "I shall walk it off in the morning" or "I shall ride it off in the morning." But by morning time, all the clinging stuff has already clung to my body, and the other stuff that doesn't cling has moved on. So walking and riding don't do much except bring a little glistening to my brow from my effort. Those exercises surely don't do much to keep the clinging stuff from doing its thing. That's a hard lesson to learn at my age, especially because I have enjoyed the art of eating for so many years. But hey! What is volunteering for if not to learn new tricks that I am very slow, and unwilling, to learn.
I love you and pray for each of you.
Grandpa Brown
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