Week 21, Dec 29 - The Purple Lady

Well, here´s the weekly letter - it definitely feels more natural communicating like this instead of through skype. It was defenitely weird to see all of you instead of just read. But it was so cool! All the missionaries were definitely a little homesick afterwords, including me. But that changed after a good solid night of contacting and getting rejected every single time :) It´s funny - Contacting is that activity that seems to get most missionaries down about life - but I always feel really good about it. In fact, after most boring meetings (don´t tell anyone I said that - but they do exist) I am really, really excited to go street contacting. We don´t have a lot of success during the holidays - the whole country seems to be infected with a dangerous deadly disease called "prisa". And here, that´ll last at least until the 6th, because Christmas starts on the noche buena (Christmas eve) continues through the 26th, then New Years Eve and New Years, and then Reyes Magos on the 6th. I know I might be a Spanish scrooge, but I do NOT like Reyes Magos - it has seriously gotten in the way of proselyting. 

There´s not much that´s happened since we talked last - Except for one experience. We were visiting menos activos with Christmas letters around one of the sketchier parts of town called Las Remudas. We knocked a door, expecting just to drop off the letter, and a woman probably Grandma Maxfield´s age opened the door. Instead of just asking for the letter and calling it good, she invited us in. First, she was wearing all purple. Like those lady jackets and pant suits - all purple. Purple earrings. Purple necklace. Purple shirt underneath the lady purple pant suit. Then we walked in. ALL OF THE WALLS WERE PURPLE. And the rug was purple. And the Christmas tree was purple. And the Christmas decorations were purple themed. The dog was wearing a purple bow and collar. She offered us water and a pastry, served on purple dishes and the pastry had purple frosting. The couch was purple. The lightbulbs in the lamps were purple. The kitchen table was purple. Even the knife she used to cut the pastry was purple. There was modern art on the wall, the kind that Dad likes with the simple squares and lines - and they were differing shades of purple. And the dog´s name was violet. (al final, she didn´t really want us there - just too nice to tell us to leave. She wouldn´t even let us share He is the Gift, and EVERYONE likes that. Sad, because she really liked the church when she was involved.) 

Well, I´ll take this little time I´ve got left to say that I am grateful for Christmas - it is the best time to reflect upon what we´re giving away as missionaries - the hope that comes from Jesus Christ.

Adios, hasta Enero 2015!

Elder Stewart Maxfield.

Home cooked lunch