| MwM Pt2 2nd Draft |
[14 Jul 2003|12:27pm] |
I had been called to the California Anaheim Mission. English speaking. Was it a disappointment? No, not really, even though everyone around me kept saying I was going foreign, or at least foreign speaking. I did not mind the least bit. I had never been to California and I figured I would not have to waste time learning the language. I figured at least things would be familiar. I could still get my Idaho spuds and my root beer.
I had to report to the Missionary Training Center on a Wednesday and my farewell at Church was the Sunday before and my parents and brothers came down from Salt Lake and Idaho. My sisters, also at BYU, brought their friends to my ward that Sunday and they sang a beautiful medley of hymns. My parents and my big brother, a Returned missionary himself all spoke as did I. That evening was my less formal missionary send off meeting. It was a big thing, because even though during my freshman year 9 members of the ward left on missions they all left from the home wards. That night was a little different. Almost everyone came from my ward, as well as my friends from work and school.
My roommate Connor brought his flute-oh how much Connor was teased for playing the flute!-and I brought my guitar. I felt strange in the crowded chapel, I wasn't really sure what I wanted to do, to say, to sing. It was a familiar setting, we had done this for many firesides or Family Home Evenings: Connor, our other roommate Bryce, an excellent piano player had done it countless times. We played regularly, I think at this point I knew all 341 hymns in the hymn book and most of the Primary songs by heart as well as a wide selection of other latter-day Saint favorites. With this experience I could not explain the butterflies in my stomach. What caused my unusual uneasiness was that I was not only playing for someone's show-I was the show.
This was my fireside. I always found it strange that these little meetings--not quite Church, but not quite informal either--were called firesides. That is another word from pioneer times. But I could totally picture myself sitting by a fire somewhere on the prairie.
This uneasiness made me choose the form of my final fireside with this ward.
The opening hymn was sung by the congregation and then my Sunday School teacher offered the opening prayer. I remember that he asked a blessing on the musicians, the speakers and the congregation that we all may have "fun" this fine evening. I remember the feeling of a slight disappointment. I was not sure what caused it, till I peeked around during the prayer and I saw Connor standing at the door, his tall, lanky figure leaning against the doorpost, his arms folded but his head up, looking straight at me. Our eyes interlocked, and we stayed like that till the Amen. Then we both blushed and turned away.
The bishop said a few words before we sat down up front and I started to play. The first song I played was "Because I Have Been Given Much", with the extra verse about missionary work. I knew I needed to play that to start with tears in people's eyes. That is always a good sign when you want to have a good meeting. I also knew it was a good sign if I wanted some donations of any kind. Yes, I did want donations. Yes, I did want some used ties with stories, used books that were out of print and any and all good advice I could get. I wanted it all to use it to be an effective missionary.
As I was playing and singing I looked at Connor. He had tears in his eyes and he had lowered his flute to his lap. He was looking at me with a strange look in his eyes. He was not playing. At this point I noticed that Bryce had stopped playing as well. I was singing,
Because of thy life's mission, Lord
I too will serve
I'll leave the comfort of my home
To teach thy word
I'll seek thy sheep who've gone astray
And those who've never known the way
I will make thy work my work today.
I finished singing and I did something that I had not done in quite a while, not since I was ordained a Priest when I was 16. I bore my testimony. I said the usual things, that I knew that Church was true and that Joseph Smith was a prophet and that the Book of Mormon was the word of God and the usual things-but this time I really meant it. I knew these things. There were no doubts in my mind about the truth I had. From that point on singing and speaking came easy-it came from my heart.
That night I went home. My parents were staying at my married sister's house and I was staying at the apartment I was renting with my three roommates. I had paid rent for the whole month, so I wanted to leave from there. Most of my things were packed up already so my parents could take it home to Idaho. My tiny little room was almost empty, save a few photos and a book here or there. My suitcases all packed, ready to go to the MTC. I threw myself down on my bed and started the CD player. It was one of my Sunday CD's, the soft sounds were making me sleepy soon. I remember thinking that I should change into my pajamas, brush my teeth and get to bed…
I woke up when someone knocked on my door. It was Connor.
"Ezra, do you have a minute?" he asked.
"Yeah, sure, I have like 60 hours. Did I forget to remove the lint again?" I asked, feeling a slight guilt over something I could not put a name to.
"No, it is not about anything. It is about tonight. You did great."
"Thanks, Connor. And thank you again for playing with me tonight. I really appreciate."
He looked at me and shook his head. I was suddenly reminded to my elder brother Dov. Connor had been looking after me like Dov usually did. I suddenly felt very close to him.
"No, it is okay, really. My pleasure. But I noticed Katie wasn't there tonight."
Gosh, I so knew someone was going to bring it up. Katie…. I had been dating her for about four months. And she did not come to my fireside.
"Well, she was busy in her ward tonight. Something with the Relief Society."
I knew I did not sound too convincing.
"Yeah, her fiancé is leaving on a mission and she is too busy. I bet she will be too busy to write you on your mission, am I right?" Connor said with a frown.
"Nah, she will forget me. And so will Carrie McAndrew. Katie and I are not together you know. I have been going out with Carrie since Clay's birthday party." A mighty three weeks. We could have been engaged by then.
"Now that was quite a change. You never told me."
"Well, you know how it goes. You meet at the hayride and get engaged the next week. This is BY-the Great Mormon Meatmarket-U!"
Connor looked at me with a serious look.
"You know I'll miss you, boy. You have become quite a part of our lives here."
"Too bad none of you guys will be here when I get back," I replied.
"I might be gone way before you come back. I am transferring to the University of Utah."
I sat up on my bed, startled.
"What???" I asked. "Why? This is Zion here, why on Earth would you want to go to the U???"
Connor, still standing, let out a giggle.
"Maybe because it is not Zion there?" he asked still giggling, but his eyes were serious. "Take your contacts out and put your PJ's on if you don't wanna look like you cried through the night. And your new shirt deserves better treatment. Good night," he said turning around and opening the door.
"Hey, Connor!"
"Yeah, what?"
"Will you come to the MTC when I report?"
Connor smiled at me and replied, "Good use of the commitment pattern, Elder. Yes. I'll be there. Good night."
"What is the commitment pattern?"
"You will learn it in the MTC. Have sweet Dreams."
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