Feeling safe

Before we got to Brazil, the mission president told us over the phone that he and his wife usually stayed home in the evenings after dinner. He said that a few weeks before, in the evening, they had been to a baptism in our church building, and afterwards drove the newly baptized sister to her house. While they were waiting to see that she got safely in her home, cars surrounded their new Bronco, and demanded that they get out of the car. The president offered them the money they had, and they said thanks, we'll take your money, but mostly they wanted the car. The mission president's wife said it is a very interesting if that is the word, experience to see a gun at your husband's head. So when we got here, we were a little wary.

Almost every house and apartment building is surrounded by walls, high pointy fences, electric wires, broken glass imbedded in the cement at the top of the wall, etc. It takes one key to open our gate, another to open the door to the building, and two to open the two different locks on our apartment door. Those who know the measures we take to lock our home in Provo might laugh.

The first times we were out in the evening with the missionaries, we asked them to walk us home the one and a half blocks to our building, for safety. One evening when we had been here a couple of weeks, and things hadn't seemed too dangerous, Bob thought maybe he would chance running to the corner market after dark for bread and bananas. As he was going down the street, he heard a whistle. He noticed some kids loitering on the corner. Was the whistle a signal to them? Well, nothing happened, and he made it back home safely with the food, but on his way back, he heard another whistle, and he was kind of scared. The next day he told the missionaries his experience. The elders laughed, and told him about the security guards that are on scattered street corners. They have a little building about a meter square to keep out the elements. They blow their whistle to let any bad guys know that they are there, and watching out for elderly frightened people walking down the street.

Now we feel very safe in our neighborhood. There is grafiti on some walls, including the office walls, and I hate that, but we have made friends with our guard. Before I fall asleep I hear his whistle. When I wake in the night, I often hear his whistle. It make me feel good to know he is there.

Sometimes we forget that we are not alone. We struggle and fear difficult situations. There is One watching out for us, and who is willing to warn us of danger, and guide us safely home. It makes me feel good to know He is there.

We love you. We were told before we left that the Lord would take care of our children at home if we would take care of His children here. May He bless us all. Do not fear, little flock. We are not alone.