May 6, 2019 The Year Best Spent

I remember when I landed here in California, one of the first things I noticed were these tall white trees covered in full, purple blooms. Just last week the trees were in bloom again (which they only do for a few short months annually) and I realized I've been out a whole year. I can hardly believe it. It seems like only a week or two ago I got here, the scared little new missionary who refused to speak even a word of english to her trainer (although I didn't speak Spanish), and would almost break out in tears when anyone turned us away. At the same time, I don't even feel like the same person! What a year it has been! I felt more than special, as Hna Alvarado bought me pan dulce and somehow found a wide-brimmed hat and maracas to use while she sang to me way too loud in Spanish. I really love her!! Our neighbors downstairs probably love her less.

Esteban, who we've been teaching since I got her, finally told us he wants to be baptized. He's one of the most quiet people I've ever met, but smart as a whip, and he understands the Book of Mormon better than I do. Instead of telling us straight out, he waited for perfect silence and then said, "I dreamed about a stream with cold, clear water..." and then waited for us to figure out what that meant. The craziest part is he tells us a long time ago a friend of his, who used to give him all sorts of advice and tell him how to be a good man, called him up and told him that one day (when he was older), two girls would come teach and "then he would decide whether to be baptized." Crazy, I wonder what she knew! 

It's getting hotter and hotter, and I keep making the mistake of doing my hair. Throughout the day it gets limper and limper until all the moppy stray dogs look me straight in the eyes like, "Cousin??" But I still love it out here. 

We searched the valley for  the best chicken burrito, and found it at the local Pollo Loco (possibly the biggest Mexican chain in Southern California.) We feel like phonies! 

More than anything, I've just felt so inexpressibly grateful. This Sunday at church, Jose (the man with the dream about the afterlife) came unexpectedly.The tiny little old recent convert who we brought to his lesson, proudly showed him around and explained everything to him. I sat behind them in Sacrament meeting, listening to little Hermano Lopez explain much to loudly (he has hearing aids) what was going on, and I started to tear up a little. I'm so grateful for this experience and this adventure. For the people I've met and the laughs and the tears. For the hills and the valleys and even the rough patches. I wondered if I would even like being a missionary, but I do. I wondered for so long if I should come, and I'm so glad I made that little jump into the dark. I remember opening an old journal on my last night at home, and reading an entry from when I was twelve saying I was going on a mission if given the opportunity. I'm glad my Heavenly Father remembered that little promise from a 12 year old and held me to it. 

Note on Hermano Lopez: he brought us bananas and little elderly protein shakes to the lesson because "it was hot out." I love these people. I am so blessed to be with them. 

Have the best week. You're all in my prayers! 

Love, 

Hermana Hawkes 

"Me somprende que es pura guerita porque tus cejas son muy mexicanas." --Little old lady at the salon. (She was surprised my family is white because I have "Mexican brows." Whatever that means!)