Hola,
This week went really well. I was able to watch all of conference, and I watched all of it except for one session in English. It is much more interesting to hear the speaker's actual voice. The talks were great. I especially enjoyed priesthood session. I felt like every talk was amazingly well prepared and well delivered. I liked when Elder Nelson asked all of the missionaries to stand. I thought about how 52,000 people standed when he said that. I imagined all of my friends in different parts of the world that were standing at the same time as I was. The prophet, President Uchtdorf and President Eyring all delivered very powerful messages. The whole conference was excellent, and the best part was that we brought 8 investigators to it. I think that this month we will have many baptisms. The three brothers of Rubi, the girl that was baptised last week, have a baptismal date. We also have a super cool family that we started teaching that came to conference with us this week.
Well, rainy season ended here in Mexico. All week it's been super sunny but not too hot. In the morning and at night it's pretty cool. Last night it even got a little chilly. Now, I will answer Mom's questions. Yes, I got your package. Sorry, I forgot to write that I received it. Thanks.
Now that we're in a fairly large ward, we eat with a different family every day. One month we eat with one ward, and the one month we eat with the other ward.
Yes they do have markets here, but I don't think I have ever bought anything in one. The only thing I ever buy is cereal to eat in the morning, and maybe something small to eat at night.
I haven't had any problems with dogs. If they bark, you just have to throw a rock or pretend to throw a rock. But the ones that don't bark are the ones that bite.
In Morelos, I haven't seen much crime at all. I'm in a pretty safe area. When I was in Acapulco, it was pretty bad. We had to be careful about what neighborhoods we went to and which streets we could walk on at night. My area in Acapulco was the ghetto of the ghetto. The streets were always full of military trucks.
Our house is pretty nice. It has two rooms and a kitchen. We have hot water and we live next to some members who let us wash our clothes at their house. We cover two wards. The wards are fairly large. One has about 160 attendance that sometimes reaches 180 and the other ward has between 100 and 120 attendance. Our area covers a number of colonias on the outskirts of Cuautla.
The fall leaves looked really cool. I don't think I've ever seen anything like that. I agree that Dad looks younger with his shaved head.
Well, that's all for this week.
Love,
Elder Hansen
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Ross's Eulogy for his Father 9/25/10
Here's the talk Ross gave at his Father's funeral:
A year and a half ago my wife and I moved to Wisconsin. The area where we live still qualifies as “America’s Dairyland”. About 20 miles from our house is a town called Black Earth. It is called Black Earth because of the deep rich topsoil in the area. The neighboring community of Arena has a type of soil named after it. Ever since moving to this part of the Midwest I have wished that my father could come and see what it is like farming in this area. When they plow the fields I never see a single rock laying on top of the earth. The dairy cows provide a never ending supply of natural fertilizer . None of the farmers in our area irrigate their crops. And yet, their corn is eight feet high, the alfalfa seems to get gets cut at least once a month and the vegetable gardens produce amazing yields.
I wish I could invite some of the Wisconsin farmers and gardeners to come to Utah and see what they could do with a little plot of ground at the mouth of Mill Creek Canyon. I have never seen any “black earth” and if they were to name a soil type after what was in our backyard I am sure it would include rocks in the title. There is never enough rain to grow anything other than weeds, so constant irrigation is a requirement.
It was in this soil and this environment that my father was able to raise prize winning tomatoes, corn, carrots, potatoes, asparagus, Chrysanthemums and Orchids.
In addition to fruits and vegetables it was on that plot of ground at the mouth of Mill Creek canyon that my parents raised a family. Today we are here to memorialize the life of Russell Hansen and I think it is impossible to discuss his life without discussing his passion for gardening. To my nieces and nephews I hope that I can share with you some of the lessons that I learned from my father hoping that you can learn from his life and his example.
No one becomes a Master Gardner over night and I know that my father learned many of his gardening skills by trial and error. I think he always was trying to improve upon what he had done before and to learn from what others had done. A few years ago my father finally gave us a copy of his life story. After reading his story I realized for the first time that he did not have a lot of good examples teaching him about how to be a good father and raise a family. I was shocked when I read about him and his mother hiding in the back of their small home from a drunken brother looking for money with the husband and father nowhere in sight. In spite of this start he managed to raise a functional family that works together and care for one another.
I remember a cold spring storm was predicted to come one night just as the cherry tree was about to blossom. Having recently returned from living in southern California my father was very familiar with the smudge pots used by the Southern California citrus growers to protect their trees from freezing . He figured he just needed some warm smoke to protect the cherry tree during the night and thought he could create his own smudge pot by burning a tire in the wheelbarrow. A tire was found, the wheel barrow was rolled into place and the fire was started. The next day I remember seeing one-half of the cherry tree burned black and one side looking okay. As time went by obviously nothing grew on the burned side but the other half of the tree blossomed and bore fruit just as he had intended. I suspect depending on your attitude it could have been considered a success because he got fruit would otherwise have been lost but at a price of burning half of his tree. At least it was a learning experience.
In all he did I think my father was an example of commitment. Real commitment means that at times you cannot be concerned with what others may think. Many years ago our Stake experimented with a welfare project that never really got off the ground. As a result there was a green house left in the Mahoney’s back yard. Through some negotiation my father acquired the rights to the greenhouse and he resolved to move it to our yard. The proposed idea for moving the greenhouse was to remove the glass then put the frame on scaffolding with rollers and roll it down the road to our house a distance of nearly a mile. As a young teenager my biggest concern with this experiment was fear that someone might recognize me participating in moving this aluminum beast down the road. It was truly a horrifying experience. But my father committed to this project saw it through to completion and I participated although I am sure I never raised my eyes from staring at the road as we rolled along. I think the same commitment was demonstrated in the years of church service and willingness to serve two missions after his retirement.
Succesful gardening also requires determination and a willingness to keep going when things don’t turn out right. Not every crop that is planted is going to grow and sometimes the bugs and worms win. I am sure my father hoped that his children would develop a passion for gardening. If that happened it would be news to me. If lemons grew at Marsha’s house I am confident that she had nothing to do with it. And last time I checked out Kent’s condo there was no place he could have been hiding a garden. But, in spite of such a failure to produce gardening children my father never seemed discouraged and was truly thrilled when in-laws and grandchildren showed interest in what he was doing. I am sorry that I don’t think he recognized the fruits of Sheri’s garden this summer or saw Clint’s new beehive. In spite of my failings as a gardener I never felt that I was less in his sight he accepted me for what I was “a spoiled city boy”. I would like to suggest that the gene for gardening simply skipped a generation but I don’t think that would be honest or accurate.
Reaping a bountiful harvest from a garden requires attention to detail and patience. Certainly there were times when Kathy may have crashed a car into the carport or I demonstrated a reluctance to put forth a 100% effort towards pulling weeds that I felt my father was not as patient as he could have been. However, anyone who watched him starting seeds under his grow lights and transplanting seedlings in the winter knows these were efforts requiring great patience and attention. I never recall expressing an opinion on a religious or political topic and feeling like I was not being listened to or that my thoughts would be criticized. Certain family members loved to argue the opposite of whatever opinion may have been previously expressed and even they were listened to. Tolerance and patience in listening to others are attributes which seem to be in short supply in today’s world. My children always felt comfortable talking at my parents home.
I think some of the efforts at being a good father worked in kind of the same way. I have wonderful old memories of going to basketball games at the Einer Nielsen Fieldhouse at the University of Utah and sitting in general admission seats in the end zone at Utah football games –those would be successes. I also have memories of being asked whether I wanted to work in the garden or do the dishes after ose not working in the garden. That was probably not a success. In fact, I am sure Russell felt badly that none of his children developed a passion for gardening. His rewards came later as the daughters in-law and sons-in law came and were actually interested in what happened in the garden and really did want to go outside and dig up vegetables. I am sorry that he wasn’t really able to see his grandchildren brag on their blogs about their wonderful vegetable gardens and even the beehives in their backyards. I guess the gardening genes skip a generation.
Beside trial and error every garden needs some fertilizer to help it grow. I recall more than once going off someplace to retrieve a load of fertilizer to spread around the garden. If I was lucky the fertilizer was mixed with sawdust and didn’t smell so bad. I suspect that within our family there was fertilizer in the form of humor and fun. I suspect Kent was the primary purveyor of fertilizer within our family. At the family dinner table we could discuss most any topic relating to politics or current events and we were sure that Kent would provide the contrary opinion regardless of the topic. I remember travelling in the brown station wagon and singing songs on the way to California. One song was about Ragtime Cowboy Joe who lived out in Arizona. I certainly could never imagine someone from our family actually moving to Arizona. But most of all I remember singing about Quennie the Cutie of the Burlesque Show. It was only later in life when I was singing that particular song to my wife that I started to wonder about what sort of a song that was that my father had taught us. The funny thing about it is that I suspect my children probably are also familiar with the song although the tune got lost somewhere in Nevada.
No Utah garden grows without lots of watering and irrigation. I remember various irrigation methods tried over the years. There was pumping water out of the irrigation ditch at night and funneling the water down the rows of vegetables. Finally there was a new source of water up on MiIlcreek road that required us running pipes through the neighbors yards down to the garden. Within our family the essential our Out in Arizona where the badlands are lies and how they were supposed to workThings in my life that I remember
1) Going to Scout Camp
2) Weeding for one hour a day and picking up rocks in the garden
3) Being given a choice of working in the garden or doing the dishes
4) Planting flowers at my grandmothers house on Memorial Day
5) Fathers and Sons outings
6) Being encouraged to work at a scout camp
7) Filing topical law reporters in his office downtown
8) Going to the downtown library and then getting ride home
9) Business people telling me how helpful he was when I was doing computax
10) Going to Utah Stars basketball games, University of Utah football games (endzone) the old Einer Nielsen fieldhouse, Derks Field
11) Learning to ride the ropetow at Brighton then Alta
12) Family Ski Passes at Park City
13) Bishop when I returned from my mission and when I got married
14) Giving blessings to aunt in her later years
15) Backpacking to Havasupai
16) Hiking in Buckskin Gulch
17) Burning the cherry tree with the tire smudge pot
18) Dinner table conversations with Kent arguing for whatever was the opposite side
19) Handyman projects
20) Vacation to California
Ways I am like my father
1) Obsessed by hobby outside work
2) Picking up chairs after meetings
3) Reading books
4) Watching basketball
5) Trying to be helpful
6) Wishing I had children who would do the outside work
7) Exercise – heavy hands walking in the canyon
Ways I am not like my father
1) Hate gardening
2) No handyman projects
A year and a half ago my wife and I moved to Wisconsin. The area where we live still qualifies as “America’s Dairyland”. About 20 miles from our house is a town called Black Earth. It is called Black Earth because of the deep rich topsoil in the area. The neighboring community of Arena has a type of soil named after it. Ever since moving to this part of the Midwest I have wished that my father could come and see what it is like farming in this area. When they plow the fields I never see a single rock laying on top of the earth. The dairy cows provide a never ending supply of natural fertilizer . None of the farmers in our area irrigate their crops. And yet, their corn is eight feet high, the alfalfa seems to get gets cut at least once a month and the vegetable gardens produce amazing yields.
I wish I could invite some of the Wisconsin farmers and gardeners to come to Utah and see what they could do with a little plot of ground at the mouth of Mill Creek Canyon. I have never seen any “black earth” and if they were to name a soil type after what was in our backyard I am sure it would include rocks in the title. There is never enough rain to grow anything other than weeds, so constant irrigation is a requirement.
It was in this soil and this environment that my father was able to raise prize winning tomatoes, corn, carrots, potatoes, asparagus, Chrysanthemums and Orchids.
In addition to fruits and vegetables it was on that plot of ground at the mouth of Mill Creek canyon that my parents raised a family. Today we are here to memorialize the life of Russell Hansen and I think it is impossible to discuss his life without discussing his passion for gardening. To my nieces and nephews I hope that I can share with you some of the lessons that I learned from my father hoping that you can learn from his life and his example.
No one becomes a Master Gardner over night and I know that my father learned many of his gardening skills by trial and error. I think he always was trying to improve upon what he had done before and to learn from what others had done. A few years ago my father finally gave us a copy of his life story. After reading his story I realized for the first time that he did not have a lot of good examples teaching him about how to be a good father and raise a family. I was shocked when I read about him and his mother hiding in the back of their small home from a drunken brother looking for money with the husband and father nowhere in sight. In spite of this start he managed to raise a functional family that works together and care for one another.
I remember a cold spring storm was predicted to come one night just as the cherry tree was about to blossom. Having recently returned from living in southern California my father was very familiar with the smudge pots used by the Southern California citrus growers to protect their trees from freezing . He figured he just needed some warm smoke to protect the cherry tree during the night and thought he could create his own smudge pot by burning a tire in the wheelbarrow. A tire was found, the wheel barrow was rolled into place and the fire was started. The next day I remember seeing one-half of the cherry tree burned black and one side looking okay. As time went by obviously nothing grew on the burned side but the other half of the tree blossomed and bore fruit just as he had intended. I suspect depending on your attitude it could have been considered a success because he got fruit would otherwise have been lost but at a price of burning half of his tree. At least it was a learning experience.
In all he did I think my father was an example of commitment. Real commitment means that at times you cannot be concerned with what others may think. Many years ago our Stake experimented with a welfare project that never really got off the ground. As a result there was a green house left in the Mahoney’s back yard. Through some negotiation my father acquired the rights to the greenhouse and he resolved to move it to our yard. The proposed idea for moving the greenhouse was to remove the glass then put the frame on scaffolding with rollers and roll it down the road to our house a distance of nearly a mile. As a young teenager my biggest concern with this experiment was fear that someone might recognize me participating in moving this aluminum beast down the road. It was truly a horrifying experience. But my father committed to this project saw it through to completion and I participated although I am sure I never raised my eyes from staring at the road as we rolled along. I think the same commitment was demonstrated in the years of church service and willingness to serve two missions after his retirement.
Succesful gardening also requires determination and a willingness to keep going when things don’t turn out right. Not every crop that is planted is going to grow and sometimes the bugs and worms win. I am sure my father hoped that his children would develop a passion for gardening. If that happened it would be news to me. If lemons grew at Marsha’s house I am confident that she had nothing to do with it. And last time I checked out Kent’s condo there was no place he could have been hiding a garden. But, in spite of such a failure to produce gardening children my father never seemed discouraged and was truly thrilled when in-laws and grandchildren showed interest in what he was doing. I am sorry that I don’t think he recognized the fruits of Sheri’s garden this summer or saw Clint’s new beehive. In spite of my failings as a gardener I never felt that I was less in his sight he accepted me for what I was “a spoiled city boy”. I would like to suggest that the gene for gardening simply skipped a generation but I don’t think that would be honest or accurate.
Reaping a bountiful harvest from a garden requires attention to detail and patience. Certainly there were times when Kathy may have crashed a car into the carport or I demonstrated a reluctance to put forth a 100% effort towards pulling weeds that I felt my father was not as patient as he could have been. However, anyone who watched him starting seeds under his grow lights and transplanting seedlings in the winter knows these were efforts requiring great patience and attention. I never recall expressing an opinion on a religious or political topic and feeling like I was not being listened to or that my thoughts would be criticized. Certain family members loved to argue the opposite of whatever opinion may have been previously expressed and even they were listened to. Tolerance and patience in listening to others are attributes which seem to be in short supply in today’s world. My children always felt comfortable talking at my parents home.
I think some of the efforts at being a good father worked in kind of the same way. I have wonderful old memories of going to basketball games at the Einer Nielsen Fieldhouse at the University of Utah and sitting in general admission seats in the end zone at Utah football games –those would be successes. I also have memories of being asked whether I wanted to work in the garden or do the dishes after ose not working in the garden. That was probably not a success. In fact, I am sure Russell felt badly that none of his children developed a passion for gardening. His rewards came later as the daughters in-law and sons-in law came and were actually interested in what happened in the garden and really did want to go outside and dig up vegetables. I am sorry that he wasn’t really able to see his grandchildren brag on their blogs about their wonderful vegetable gardens and even the beehives in their backyards. I guess the gardening genes skip a generation.
Beside trial and error every garden needs some fertilizer to help it grow. I recall more than once going off someplace to retrieve a load of fertilizer to spread around the garden. If I was lucky the fertilizer was mixed with sawdust and didn’t smell so bad. I suspect that within our family there was fertilizer in the form of humor and fun. I suspect Kent was the primary purveyor of fertilizer within our family. At the family dinner table we could discuss most any topic relating to politics or current events and we were sure that Kent would provide the contrary opinion regardless of the topic. I remember travelling in the brown station wagon and singing songs on the way to California. One song was about Ragtime Cowboy Joe who lived out in Arizona. I certainly could never imagine someone from our family actually moving to Arizona. But most of all I remember singing about Quennie the Cutie of the Burlesque Show. It was only later in life when I was singing that particular song to my wife that I started to wonder about what sort of a song that was that my father had taught us. The funny thing about it is that I suspect my children probably are also familiar with the song although the tune got lost somewhere in Nevada.
No Utah garden grows without lots of watering and irrigation. I remember various irrigation methods tried over the years. There was pumping water out of the irrigation ditch at night and funneling the water down the rows of vegetables. Finally there was a new source of water up on MiIlcreek road that required us running pipes through the neighbors yards down to the garden. Within our family the essential our Out in Arizona where the badlands are lies and how they were supposed to workThings in my life that I remember
1) Going to Scout Camp
2) Weeding for one hour a day and picking up rocks in the garden
3) Being given a choice of working in the garden or doing the dishes
4) Planting flowers at my grandmothers house on Memorial Day
5) Fathers and Sons outings
6) Being encouraged to work at a scout camp
7) Filing topical law reporters in his office downtown
8) Going to the downtown library and then getting ride home
9) Business people telling me how helpful he was when I was doing computax
10) Going to Utah Stars basketball games, University of Utah football games (endzone) the old Einer Nielsen fieldhouse, Derks Field
11) Learning to ride the ropetow at Brighton then Alta
12) Family Ski Passes at Park City
13) Bishop when I returned from my mission and when I got married
14) Giving blessings to aunt in her later years
15) Backpacking to Havasupai
16) Hiking in Buckskin Gulch
17) Burning the cherry tree with the tire smudge pot
18) Dinner table conversations with Kent arguing for whatever was the opposite side
19) Handyman projects
20) Vacation to California
Ways I am like my father
1) Obsessed by hobby outside work
2) Picking up chairs after meetings
3) Reading books
4) Watching basketball
5) Trying to be helpful
6) Wishing I had children who would do the outside work
7) Exercise – heavy hands walking in the canyon
Ways I am not like my father
1) Hate gardening
2) No handyman projects
9/27/10 Comments about Grandpa and Rubi's Baptism
Hola,
I enjoyed reading Dad's talk. He was right. I may not have ever known my grandfather too well, but through my own father I have learned who my grandfather was. I can now see that as I grow to become more and more like my father I am really becoming just like my grandfather. I think that's a good thing. I can already see how Clint is becoming his father, and I imagine that I will as well. I am grateful that my grandfather created a chain of righteousness that is being passed on to many future generations. It is amazing to see how one person's life influences countless amounts of people without them ever really noticing it. I know I had never really thought about it before.
Well, this week went pretty well. We had a baptism. She is a thirteen year-old girl named Rubi. Even though her parents don't go to church she has demostrated true dedication to the gospel. Since we started teaching her she has come every Sunday and to almost all of the other church activities. The baptism was a really spiritual experience. My companion and I sand the baptism song, I like to look for rainbows. I rememberd how that song was sung at my baptism. One of the eternal investigators from the ward attended the baptismal service, and we hope that she was able to feel the strong spirit that was there.
I got my flight plans. It's weird to know the exact day and hour I'll be home. Three months from today. I'll try not to be trunky.
Ok well, I don't have much else to say. I know my letters get shorter and shorter every week. Ask me questions if you want me to write more.
Love,
Elder Hansen
9/20/2010 Mexican Independence Day & Funeral
Hola,
Well, this week was Mexican Independence day which made it a little difficult for missionary work. A lot of people left on vacations, and a lot of other people were drunk and partying or hung-over and sleeping. I promised a good story about drunks this week. On the 16th there was a group of men drinking outside of a store. They called us over and offered us a soda. I said no, thinking that it would be an alcoholic "soda." They proceeded to look for a soda among all of their beer. They were unsuccessful, so they gave us 20 pesos to buy a soda. I thought there might be a catch, but no I had in fact met the world's nicest drunks.
The work is going well here. We had 5 people at church on Sunday. We have one with a baptismal date for this Saturday a couple other possibles.
I'm sad to hear about Grandpa's death. I may not have had the best relationship with him because we always lived far away. But even though I didn't see him too often, all of the memories of him are good ones. He was a good man and a righteous priesthood holder. I know that right now he is being greeted by many friends and family members in spirit paradise. About a month ago, I had to speak at a funeral. The woman that had died was not a member of the church. A few of her children were members, but they are all pretty inactive. It was very hard for me to give them words of comfort, when it is most likely that they will never have an eternal family. They all seemed absolutely devastated thinking about how they will never see their mother again. I know that this is not the case with our family. For the righteous decisions he made in life, Grandpa will be waiting for all of us to join him. If we do our part and live righteously, the covenants we have made in this life will be honored for all of eternity. I'm sorry I can't be at the funeral, but as Dad said this is the best place I can be to show my love for him.
"These things I have spoken unto you, that in me ye might have peace. In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world." John 16:33
Love,
Elder Hansen
Well, this week was Mexican Independence day which made it a little difficult for missionary work. A lot of people left on vacations, and a lot of other people were drunk and partying or hung-over and sleeping. I promised a good story about drunks this week. On the 16th there was a group of men drinking outside of a store. They called us over and offered us a soda. I said no, thinking that it would be an alcoholic "soda." They proceeded to look for a soda among all of their beer. They were unsuccessful, so they gave us 20 pesos to buy a soda. I thought there might be a catch, but no I had in fact met the world's nicest drunks.
The work is going well here. We had 5 people at church on Sunday. We have one with a baptismal date for this Saturday a couple other possibles.
I'm sad to hear about Grandpa's death. I may not have had the best relationship with him because we always lived far away. But even though I didn't see him too often, all of the memories of him are good ones. He was a good man and a righteous priesthood holder. I know that right now he is being greeted by many friends and family members in spirit paradise. About a month ago, I had to speak at a funeral. The woman that had died was not a member of the church. A few of her children were members, but they are all pretty inactive. It was very hard for me to give them words of comfort, when it is most likely that they will never have an eternal family. They all seemed absolutely devastated thinking about how they will never see their mother again. I know that this is not the case with our family. For the righteous decisions he made in life, Grandpa will be waiting for all of us to join him. If we do our part and live righteously, the covenants we have made in this life will be honored for all of eternity. I'm sorry I can't be at the funeral, but as Dad said this is the best place I can be to show my love for him.
"These things I have spoken unto you, that in me ye might have peace. In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world." John 16:33
Love,
Elder Hansen
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
9/13/10 Work & Effort
Howdy,
Well, this week was kind of a let down. The week went really well up until Sunday when nobody came to church. Right now we have 23 investigators we are teaching. Of those 23 we had 13 that had commited to come to church this week. Of those 13, I figured a few would fall, but I thought that for sure we would pass our goal of 5 investigators in church. We passed for a few of them in the morning, but they either weren't home or had a lame excuse. It was a little frustrating, but we were blessed with a miracle. A man showed up to church that isn't a member. We set up an appointment with him, and he gladly accepted.
In Preach my Gospel it says that a successful missionary isn't measured by the number of baptisms he has or any other number. It says that a successful missionary is measured by the effort he puts in and whether or not the spirit works through him. Often we think that if we aren't baptizing we aren't having any success. Right now, we have more investigators than I have ever had in my mission, and I think that we are definitely having success. When we are working hard and don't see immediate results, Satan attacks us and tells us to quit working hard because nobody cares. Far too often in my mission, I have seen that the miracle happens in the last house on the street, the last minute of the day, or when we feel like we can't go on but we do anyway.
September 15 is Mexican Independence Day. It should be fun. I'm sure I'll have some stories to tell next week about drunk people.
I don't have much else to say. All is well in Zion.
Love,
Elder Hansen
Well, this week was kind of a let down. The week went really well up until Sunday when nobody came to church. Right now we have 23 investigators we are teaching. Of those 23 we had 13 that had commited to come to church this week. Of those 13, I figured a few would fall, but I thought that for sure we would pass our goal of 5 investigators in church. We passed for a few of them in the morning, but they either weren't home or had a lame excuse. It was a little frustrating, but we were blessed with a miracle. A man showed up to church that isn't a member. We set up an appointment with him, and he gladly accepted.
In Preach my Gospel it says that a successful missionary isn't measured by the number of baptisms he has or any other number. It says that a successful missionary is measured by the effort he puts in and whether or not the spirit works through him. Often we think that if we aren't baptizing we aren't having any success. Right now, we have more investigators than I have ever had in my mission, and I think that we are definitely having success. When we are working hard and don't see immediate results, Satan attacks us and tells us to quit working hard because nobody cares. Far too often in my mission, I have seen that the miracle happens in the last house on the street, the last minute of the day, or when we feel like we can't go on but we do anyway.
September 15 is Mexican Independence Day. It should be fun. I'm sure I'll have some stories to tell next week about drunk people.
I don't have much else to say. All is well in Zion.
Love,
Elder Hansen
9/6/10 Zone Conference
Hola,
This week, I started paying more attention and I realized that my recipe for making salsa was pretty bad. I hope Clint didn't eat any watered down salsa. Oil, chiles, tomatoes, garlic, and maybe some onion. Just throw stuff in the blender and see what comes out. That's what they do here.
This week ended pretty well, as we were able to bring 5 investigators to church on Sunday. It was really unexpected. We had several people that we thought were pretty sure for Sunday that ended up being lame. There was another family that we had taught a couple times but seemed kind of lame, so we hadn't really thought that they would go to church. But on Saturday our appointments went through and we went to see that family and they agreed to let us pass for them on Sunday. On Sunday we went and brought all of them to church. It was pretty cool. This week we had zone conference. It got us pretty pumped up to find a lot of new people. In the conference we talked a lot about the importance of always finding people. We also talked about how we can have a sure foundation, and how we can help our investigators to begin to build a sure foundation.
Yesterday, we ate with the sister of Elder DeHoyos. They live in this really nice private community. Walking in their house, I felt like I had left Mexico and wlked into a house in the United States. We ate salmon, with salad, and steamed vegetables. Afterwards we ate ice cream. I was in heaven. In their house I was looking at the book The Mission that has a picture of Jon Hansen in Australia.
Today we went to the house of Emiliano Zapata, the leader of the Mexican Revolution of 1910. I thought it was going tot be one of his mansions, but it was the house where he was born. It was just the remains of an old, small dirt,house. It was pretty big let down. At least we didn't pay.
I'm sorry that my letters are short lately. I don't have much news. The reason why I haven't sent pictures is because I left my camera charger in my other house. I think I might have to buy a new camera.
Love,
Elder Hansen
This week, I started paying more attention and I realized that my recipe for making salsa was pretty bad. I hope Clint didn't eat any watered down salsa. Oil, chiles, tomatoes, garlic, and maybe some onion. Just throw stuff in the blender and see what comes out. That's what they do here.
This week ended pretty well, as we were able to bring 5 investigators to church on Sunday. It was really unexpected. We had several people that we thought were pretty sure for Sunday that ended up being lame. There was another family that we had taught a couple times but seemed kind of lame, so we hadn't really thought that they would go to church. But on Saturday our appointments went through and we went to see that family and they agreed to let us pass for them on Sunday. On Sunday we went and brought all of them to church. It was pretty cool. This week we had zone conference. It got us pretty pumped up to find a lot of new people. In the conference we talked a lot about the importance of always finding people. We also talked about how we can have a sure foundation, and how we can help our investigators to begin to build a sure foundation.
Yesterday, we ate with the sister of Elder DeHoyos. They live in this really nice private community. Walking in their house, I felt like I had left Mexico and wlked into a house in the United States. We ate salmon, with salad, and steamed vegetables. Afterwards we ate ice cream. I was in heaven. In their house I was looking at the book The Mission that has a picture of Jon Hansen in Australia.
Today we went to the house of Emiliano Zapata, the leader of the Mexican Revolution of 1910. I thought it was going tot be one of his mansions, but it was the house where he was born. It was just the remains of an old, small dirt,house. It was pretty big let down. At least we didn't pay.
I'm sorry that my letters are short lately. I don't have much news. The reason why I haven't sent pictures is because I left my camera charger in my other house. I think I might have to buy a new camera.
Love,
Elder Hansen
8/30/10 Jalepino Peppers
Howdy,
Well, this week went pretty well. We finally had an investigator in church. I think I discovered that it is necessary to find like 30 new investigators just so that one will go to church. But this lady is progressing and has a baptismal date. We found here one day walking in the street. We saw her carrying a lot of bags and offered to help her. As a result she let us into her house. We shared a quick message and she quickly began to tell us of all the problems she has. Before leaving we sang a hymn and gave her a blessing. After the blessing she said she felt a feeling of peace run all through her body.
Clint asked for suggestions on using jalapeño peppers. In Mexico we call them rajas, and you can eat them with pretty much anything. Try them with eggs or on a sandwich. Or put them in a blender with water, oil, and tomatoes and you got yourself a salsa. That salsa can be used in every meal.
Mom, it sounds like ya'll had a crazy, good time up in Noth Dakota. I'm sad I had to miss the giant buffalo. Maybe next time.
Sorry, this week hasn't been too exciting. I used my good story last week.
Take care,
Elder Hansen
Well, this week went pretty well. We finally had an investigator in church. I think I discovered that it is necessary to find like 30 new investigators just so that one will go to church. But this lady is progressing and has a baptismal date. We found here one day walking in the street. We saw her carrying a lot of bags and offered to help her. As a result she let us into her house. We shared a quick message and she quickly began to tell us of all the problems she has. Before leaving we sang a hymn and gave her a blessing. After the blessing she said she felt a feeling of peace run all through her body.
Clint asked for suggestions on using jalapeño peppers. In Mexico we call them rajas, and you can eat them with pretty much anything. Try them with eggs or on a sandwich. Or put them in a blender with water, oil, and tomatoes and you got yourself a salsa. That salsa can be used in every meal.
Mom, it sounds like ya'll had a crazy, good time up in Noth Dakota. I'm sad I had to miss the giant buffalo. Maybe next time.
Sorry, this week hasn't been too exciting. I used my good story last week.
Take care,
Elder Hansen
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