My brother Andrew returned from his mission in Peru on Wednesday. He appears to have had a wonderful time and occasionally sputters unwittingly into spanish. Unlike me he had the wonderful opportunity of serving with native companions-in fact almost exclusively with native companions.
It's been almost a decade since I returned from my own mission. My views on life and religion have changed drastically since that time but I still cherish my mission experience. I often wish I could go back to my mission and instead of being so intent on teaching people just listen. I talked to more people from different backgrounds on my mission than I had or probably ever will in my lifetime. On my mission I spoke to people from almost every part of the globe-since immigrants were often more willing to listen to us. But not only did I have the chance to speak to these people I had the opportunity to ask their thoughts and feelings about one of the most central parts of their life-religion. How often I asked a few superficial questions of people from these vastly different backgrounds just so I could lead into the message I thought was so much more important than anything they had to say. How sad that I neglected the chance to learn about such a wide array of cultures and religious backgrounds.
However, even with my neglect I took in an incredible amount of experiences. I had men who claimed to receive visitations from Padre Pio or the Virgin Mary to exuberant atheists who encouraged us to stop preaching and just start enjoying life to scientologists who tried to sell us their manuals. I attended Mass in the 500 year old Florence Cathedral and saw countless works of great art including 'The David'. I rode across the canals of Venice and saw the beautiful flowing hills of rural Tuscany.
But most of all I got to see the day to day living of a wonderful and ancient people-the Italians. How much I love them and miss them. I miss how on Saturday and Sunday evening instead of sitting home watching television the Italians would emerge from their homes, even in winter, to walk the streets of dowtown. Downtown areas were generally only for pedestrian traffic. They would walk with their families and greet friends as they perused the various stores. I miss the delicious food that they prepared with such dedication and such delight. I miss seeing the old men gather every morning on central square to talk and argue politics with their friends. I miss the kisses they exchanged as they greeted one another. I miss the angelic sound of their beautiful language as it flowed from their smiles.
How strange it is to look back and to think I thought I had the key to filling their lives with meaning when so many of them had figured it all out. They knew how to take in the simple pleasures of life with moderation and joy. They drank, but frowned on getting drunk. They ate delicious food, but walked and generally didn't eat to the point of becoming overweight. But most of all they drank in deeply the one joy that they knew mattered most and that would ultimately bring them the most sustainable happiness-fulfilling relationships with other people.
Gardner, this sounds just exactly like something that Jordan would say. ALlen and I were able to experience that nightly walking along the streets of downtown; it was as you say - such a delightful pleasure. Thank you for this post and your insight. I, do however, know that they are missing a very significant element in their lives through the Atonement. So, you were pointing out something important also, as well as drinking in their beautiful lives.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful post Gardner.
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