Hot Humid Christmas

So, everybody knows that it really stinks when you aren't with your family for Christmas. It's kind of nice that it is hot and humid and very un-Christmas-y looking here unless you go to a mall. I just basicly avoided thinking about Christmas and all that decorating of the tree, the making of gingerbread houses together, cute grandchildren in new pajamas, my daughters helping me stuff stockings and wrap presents, Dad hiding presents around the house, sledding in the snow, dressing up for a manger scene with the cute grandchildren, my neighbor's homemade hand-dipped chocolates, reading the Christmas story by the lights from the tree, gathering at our house to open presents, seeing and loving the love we have for each other. Yeah, just thinking about it now is getting to me. So I didn't think about it. I sent a few, few Christmas cards and decorated the mission office with some decorations they had here, bought a foot tall tree for our apartment, put a gold star on our door, and called it good. I had saved some special apricot fruit leather Uncle Keith gave me before we left, for a present for Bob. That was it.

In Brazil, everyone except missionaries stays up late on Christmas Eve (Vesperas de Natal) and has a big elaborate dinner at midnight. We had dinner Christmas Eve with our mission president, Douglas Whisenant, and his wife Eleanor, and their son and daughter-in-law from Minneapolis, and the five missionaries from the office. We had a white elephant gift exchange (I got colored pencils!) and took turns telling about our Christmas traditions. Whether Brazilian, or American, we pretty much did the same things. Pa-Pai Noel or Santa Claus, turkey stuffed with dressing or rice, Brazilian parents not letting anyone eat until midnight, or Bob putting up a sheet over the doorway and not letting anyone look in the living room until he built a fire and everyone lined up youngest to oldest. It is all about family, and love, and children, and peace on earth good will to men. We had a lovely meal, and didn't stay up until midnight. We took two taxis home about 10 p.m. through almost deserted streets. At midnight, people started setting off fireworks, but a big thunderstorm outdid the fireworks, and cooled things off a little bit.

We woke up early and the whole city was quiet. We had bought a 4 kilo turkey, the biggest one we could find. About 9 pounds! We had found a new store that had celery--I had never seen it here yet. I studied the different herbs and decided I thought "salvia" was sage, and bought some. We washed the celery in bleach water, made onion and celery and sage dressing, stuffed the turkey, and put it in the small gas oven. We then cooked potatoes for mashed potatoes (can you feel the temperature in the kitchen rising?) We tried to make a version of the special Christmas rice every Brazilian missionary's dad seems to make. (It might be kind of like fried rice, but it also has green olives, and grapes) Hotter and hotter. The elders were coming for dinner about noon, and I had time to shower, (in cold water--ahhhhh!) change clothes, and set the table before they came. When they got there, we got them to mash the potatoes, while I made gravy, and we sat down in the living room to a lovely meal served on our desks pushed together. Our crystal, china and sterling were ziploc container bowls, melamine plates, and wooden serving spoons, but I think it meant a lot for these young men and for us, all of us away from home and family to be together on Christmas Day.

We talked some more about Christmas traditions, and then Bob asked each one to share his favorite scripture. (We gave both English and Portuguese versions.) My scripture is the first one I ever learned, back in the Christian Church in Bargersville, Indiana. Psalms 122:1--"I was glad when they said unto me, let us go into the house of the Lord."

We let the missionaries go after dinner. Before they left, I told them that I knew their mothers would be so proud of them and the good things they are doing, and the good young men that they are. I started to cry a little, because I really love these elders, but mostly because it made me realize even more how grateful and proud of Benjamin, and Joseph, and Michael, and Layne, and Justin, and Melanie, those in our family who served missions, and spent Christmas away from home, to tell people the good news of Jesus Christ and His restored church. On Christmas, missionaries get to call home. Over 50,000 missionaries around the world, calling home on Christmas. What a joy. Bob and I washed dishes, cleaned up, and lay down for a while before we came to the office to call home and talk to our precious children and grandchildren.

Oh, how we love you. You are wonderful, and you are doing wonderful things. Love each other, don't let anything come between you.

So, it is great to have Christmas, at least this first Christmas behind us. We'll focus on the work and not miss you so much. I hope. Love, Mom