There are no ordinary people

So, this morning I woke up to a monster in my room.  It was a cockroach the size of ME just chilling on my wall when I opened my eyes.  I sat up so quickly that my entire puny little metal bunk bed almost tipped over.  I didn't scream though.  I just ushered it out the door and didn't invite it to come back...or to come unto Christ.

I haven't seen any snakes yet.  hopefully soon.  If not, I'll have to get a tattoo of one (woop - there it is).

I feel like I've been here for 100 years, but then I realize that I still don't even completely know my way around this place.  But this last week, I really focused on my attitude.  I studied the scriptures so hard and drowned myself in studying the characteristic of Christ.  Then, I tried to apply those to myself.

I'll be honest...it's freaking hard.  Especially when my natural reaction to many of the things I face each day would be to just roll my eyes, say a sarcastic remark, cry or even swear (wait. what?)

But this week, when we would get lost, or punted, or when we would not understand what someone was saying to us - basically whenever we were in a pickle -  I would just think, "oh this is hilarious.  This is way better than 'Keeping up with the Kardashians' - I wish my family could see this."

It takes a lot of motivation and courage to get out to work.  Like in Santiago, it used to be I was anxious to get the morning studies done so we could go out and find people and teach...But here in Solano, I find myself cherishing  every minute I get to study.  And when time is up I think, "I'm scared to go out and face the world - I wish I could just do language study for the next 100 hours."  But that lack of courage has helped me...I know it has...because I literally have to plead with Heavenly Father to take care of me.  I plead with him every morning before we head out to work to help me, to be my companion, and to send angels to walk with me.  He's pulled through for me.  He always does.

                                   I saw a miracle this week.

In our area we take a tricey out to our furthest point and then walk our way back as we stop by those we teach.  I've gotten used to getting punted 98% of the time.  And on this particular day I was seeing that kind of outcome as we got rejected about 13 times in a row.

As we were walking down the highway, Sister Nawere stopped at a gate.  I asked who we were seeing.  She struggled to answer me, but tried her best to explain that she had never really met the lady before, but knew that she had been baptized, but wasn't coming to church.  So, this Nanay came out and looked at us like we were strange.  She was hesitant to open the gate and asked why we were there.  I proceeded to introduce who we were and asked her name and other 'get to know you,' questions.  She let us in, but her attitude was hard.  Which just made me work even harder to get to know her.  The miracle....she knows English.  Super well.  Like at one point I just stopped speaking in Tagalog and spoke to her in English.

We talked forever, and as time went on, it was very apparent that her heart was softened.  She opened up to me about how she stopped going to church because she didn't feel completely accepted.  She told me about how after the missionary that converted her went home...nobody ever loved her so much.  She didn't feel welcomed.  She said church was uncomfortable because she felt alone.  It broke my heart. Because I was thinking about M. and N. and M. and T. and the other investigators I had in Santiago and how much I loved them...and how my final last words to Sister L. were "L - take care of them.  They are so important to me."

It made me think of this missionary that she talked about, and how sad he would feel if he knew that one of the people he taught and baptized and loved so dearly wasn't feeling the love that she needed.  Nanay E.  showed us pictures of this Elder and told me stories of how incredible and close he was to her family.  As I stared at the pictures, I could only imagine him saying the same thing to me, "Sister Frame - please take care of her.  She is so important to me." It then clicked.  All of it.  I could just picture the Savior saying it to me, about all the people I meet here in the Philippines.  "Mads  - please take care of them.  They mean so much to me."

My love for Nanay E. was overwhelming.  I just wanted to tell her, but couldn't even express it all in words.  So I did my best.

I told Nany E. a few things.  The first being that she was a pure answer to my prayers.  I told her about how I'm new to this area, and not completely comfortable, and how even as a missionary I'm looking for friends.  And how I was praying to meet her.  I had been praying ALL week to meet someone that I could talk with.  The second being that I loved her.  I just simply stated that.  And then I bore testimony that I know her Heavenly Father loved her.

We've been back each day.  She's very special to me.  Heavenly Father really had my back that day.

I really got to know Sister N. this week.  She's a sweet girl.  I tried to put myself in her shoes.  I put myself in the situation of not knowing Tagalog which took no effort at all, but also not knowing English.  I have it easy compared to her.  So my love and appreciation for her diligence and work and smile grew ten fold.  I'm grateful for her.  It doesn't change our ability to speak, but it makes the days easier, more peaceful, and more enjoyable.

The work is scary, frustrating, hard, and at times feels impossible.  But it has the most happy, spiritual, rewarding and peaceful moments that make it worth it.  I'm grateful to be a part of it.

Have the best week - Merry Christmas - I love you.

-Sister Frame

alma 34:41

this is what Charity looks like

I want to tell you about two little girls that I love with my whole heart.  Really.

Cn. (8) and Cl. (10).

I met them back in July.  when we were teaching their dad.  His name is Cr.  I wrote in my journal that night, "He is so sweet.  I can just see it.  The light in his eyes.  He is special."So, we taught Cr. a little bit...when we could.  He works in the rice fields, so he's not always home.  He's in his 50's, and his eyesight is bad, so he didn't really read the things we asked him to.

One day, we were there when his two daughters came home from school.  They walked in the gate and passed right by us, walking straight into the house without even giving us a second look.  Cr. called for them to come out and say hello to us, but they refused.  So shy...and that was our first meeting.

Later that week, Sister P. and I were walking to church and saw Cr. and his two little girls there in the parking lot.  We ran over to them and welcomed them to church.  We were SO excited to see them!  We took the girls to primary and showed Cr. to the Priesthood meeting.  Unfortunately, that was the last time we got Cr. to church.  We continue to teach him every once in a while.  He told us how much his girls loved primary.

So that brings us to the first week with my companion, Sister L.  6 Sundays ago.  We were sitting with the congregation, and toward the end of Sacrament Meeting, I noticed two little girls sitting a few rows up.  I remember thinking, ""where are those girls' parents?....wait,...is that?  no....it couldn't be!

It was!
It was Cr.'s little girls!  They went to Primary, Sunday School, and sat reverently all through sacrament meeting by themselves - knowing absolutely NO ONE and being too shy to talk to anyone.  As the meeting got over, I quickly ran up to them and expressed my excitement to see them.  I asked where their dad was, and they so quietly responded "bahay naming" (our house).  I then asked if Sister L. and I could come to their house later and see them again.  They said yes.

That night we went back to the household, not for Cr.  This time for the adorable little girls that just weeks before were too shy to acknowledge our presence as missionaries.

The first lesson was painfully quiet.  They were almost too shy to even make eye contact with us.  But, we know they wanted us there because as we were leaving Cn. asked when we were going to come back.

We go back every other day.  To those precious little girls.  Cl. is Laren and Cn. is me.  I see us in them.  I noticed it first when Cn. burped so loud during a lesson.  She just laid it out there, and you could see in her eyes that even she was a little surprised at the power the burp had.  Such a big noise came out of such a precious little girl.  Classic.

But each time we go there, I see it more.  We taught them to pray a little while ago.  Cl. opened the lesson with the prayer (quietly), and at the end we asked Cn. to say the closing prayer.  Cn.  didn't say "No," but she looked to Cl. with these helpless eyes.  And without any exchange of communication, Cl. knelt down next to Cn. and helped her.  With quiet words, she would start a sentence and let Cn. repeat after her.  Together they gave the most beautiful prayer that I have heard in the Philippines.

I was so touched.  Cn. looked to Cl. for the help and without any hesitation, Cl. helped her little sister.  Cl. is a little fashionista. Cn. is a little more loud and quirky.  Cl. genuinely cares for Cn. Cn. looks up to Cl. in every way.  They protect each other.  They are perfect sisters.

Each time we go over there they tell us how they pray together morning and night, before they eat and before they leave for school.  They continue to come to church each Sunday, too.  Without fail, they are there early waiting in the front of the church for us to arrive.  They even came and sat through General Conference with us like champions.

In the past, Cr. told us that his wife was in Hong Kong working as an OFW (overseas' Filipino worker).  This week we asked Cn. and Cl. about their mom.  We started with the question, "When is she coming home?"  Cl. said, "When I'm in grade 6,"  (Now she's in grade 5).  Then we asked her when her mom left.  Cl. said, "When I was in kindergarten.  Cn. was just a baby."

This is where I broke.  These girls!  I can't explain it.  They are just so full of light.  Cn. always gives the closing prayers in our lessons, and the last few weeks Cl. has made the habit of sneaking quietly away.  She usually makes it back in time before Cn. finishes, but there have been a few times where we say, "Amen," and Cl. is just gone.  ha.  At first we were confused, but she always comes back with something.  Like the first time it was a beaded bracelet she made for us.  The next time it was chocolates she saved from school.  Once it was Chinese stationary from her mom.  Last night it was a band aid.  When she gave it to me I said, "oh!  a bandaid.  Salamat!"  Cn. then laughingly asked why she gave me a bandaid.  I was confused myself.  But she pointed to the scab on my arm...it was so genuine.  

We give them a hug goodbye each time we leave.  And they always remind us to return the "day after tomorrow."  Sister L. and I will leave and be walking down the street...3-5 minutes later we will hear, "Bye Sisters!" We'll look back and see that they will have quiety followed us from a far distance, and right before we head out of sight, they yell goodbye.

These girls have taught me a lot.  More than I could ever teach them.  I've seen the pure love of Christ in them.  They are perfect examples of Charity.  I'm trying to be more like them.

OK, super long - if anyone is still reading this, I love you.  I miss you all.  

This Gospel of Jesus Christ is real.
And this mission is so humbling.
I'm enjoying the journey
and meeting people that I will NEVER forget.
We are all blessed.  Don't every forget it.
mahal na mahal na mahal na mahal do kayo!

- Sister Frame

Seeing what He sees

Story of the week - 

The experience I'll attempt to write about was a very enlightening, spiritual and overwhelming moment for me.  To some it would seem like just another ordinary opportunity that comes along with the territory of a "mission experience," but for me - 

It was the moment I had been praying for.

It was the moment I recognized and understood the love of Jesus Christ.

It was perfect.

It started Thursday morning at 7:30 when Sister P and the other Sisters left the house and headed down the block to help with the "feeding program" at the elementary school.  We had been asked by the bishop the night before, and we gladly jumped at the chance to be a part of a different kind of service that morning.

As we waited for the bishop at the school, I took the opprotunity to absorb my surroundings.  Lots and lots of kids, all dressed in their school uniform, running around and independently fulfilling their personal responsibilities before heading to class.  You could feel the hype of curiosity as the kids walked past us and exclaimed "Americanas!" (Sister K and I).  The only thing I could really do was smile and say "hello!" or high five them as they passed by.  It started to rain a bit, so we headed to the big pavilion that was centered in the middle of the campus.  There was a practice going on for some kind of upcoming program, and students were scattered around.  Right away this bunch of 9 individuals caught my attention.  They were a lively crowd and close enough to where I could clearly see them, but far enough away that I couldn't hear them.

    What first caught my attention was this little boy,  about 8 years old, wearing raggy jeans and a tattered t-shirt, not a uniform.  He was talking with 2 others.  I could tell that he was talking about someone being fat and swinging on a rope.  Not through his words, like i said - I could not hear them, but through his actions.  I pointed him out to Sister P and said, "Look how animated and imaginative this little boy is."  We both watched for a moment longer before recognizing that the two other students he was communicating with joined in on this "pictionary-like" discussion.  They spoke through actions too - these kids were deaf.

As i continued to watch, I picked up on a few things...1. this little boy was hilarious.  kind of a little punk.  you could tell that he was the only boy, the youngest, so he had successfully established the role of being the "little brother" figure of this small class.  He was very good at teasing the girls and being goofy enough to make them laugh.  2.  At one point he started to dance for all the girls.  He was one of the most incredible little dancers I have ever seen.  Impersonating Michael Jackson or Elvis, he had mastered dougie, gangham style, and the stanky leg like an expert.  He even threw in some salsa dance moves for some added flavor.  It was amazing.

I was obviously in awe, and after a few minutes of intensely watching him, this little boy caught me staring at him.  I know this got him excited because he quickly alerted the others and described me through motioning stripes on his shirt and by rubbing his arms (my white skin).  Then, he pointed at me - so that really gave it away.

But after telling the others, he ran over, stood about 10 feet in front of me, and just stared.  All I could do was stare back and smile in awe (I was just as starstruck as he was).   Finally, I motioned for him to "come here," and I reached my hand out to shake his.  The smile he got on his face, with his broken teeth and all, was perfect.  He shook my hand and I 'blessed him' - (putting his hand to my forehead.  It's a sign of respect that children give to their elders here in the Philippines.  I often do it to the kids cause they get the biggest kick out of it).

The other eight roared in laughter from across the pavillion.  Only one little girl had the courage to follow him.  He signed for her to come shake our hands.  She ran and gave us a hug instead.  We took a picture and they ran off and continued to reek 'silent' havoc amongst the seven others through their sign language.  It was incredible to watch these kids converse with one another.  They used their entire bodies and faces to speak.  Their spirits were illuminated through their conversation. 

it was beautiful

After a while, the little girl that had approached us earlier returned.  She opened her hand, and on her palm she had written the words "mahal ko kayo"  (I love you).

Honestly, one of the most tender moments I've ever been a part of.  As the kids continued to play and converse with each other, I went from thinking, "wow, this is cool!" to the point of where I had tears streaming down my face with so much to think about - 

I spend EVERY day in frustration of my inability to speak with these Filippino people.  Learning this language is exhausting and so annoying most of the time.  As I sat and watched these kids, I thought about them.  How it must feel.  To not have the privilege or ability to talk to very many people around them.  To live in a silent world.  Yet, this little girl was still willing and made the effort to express that she loved us.  I don't speak Tagalog just yet...and I definitely don't know sign language.  But this little girl can't even  hear words.  Music started playing and it broke my heart just knowing that this little boy couldn't hear the music.  But the way he danced - oh!  it was like he had music on replay in his whole soul.  

It was their example that truly changed me.  their enthusiasm, their love and their smiles.  they were happy.

Now - I don't know if this story made sense, and it's nearly impossible to express the impression it made on my heart.  Words cannot explain the clarity, feelings and emotions I felt.  But I was able to see through these two children the light of Christ and the love of God.

I'm seeing the world a little bit differently each day that I'm here.  I'm growing in a knowledge that I didn't ever think existed. Alam ko - so naive and sheltered.

But I am blessed.  We all are.

-Sister Frame

When I get home will someone go to Disneyland with me?