|Saying goodbye to fam. Lopez Urquia|
|Last shots of El Llano with the triplets and an incredible view|
|Thanksgiving with Hermana Luna--we are thankful for our companionship!|
|Turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, gravy, and rolls...sort of. For a first attempt and cooking on a hotplate in Honduras, it turned out pretty good.|
|Cold enough to wear pants under my skirt when we go out to work--I'm pretty cold!|
|We are so getting ready to celebrate Christmas!|
|Hermana Luna, the compa who will kill me :)||(mission phraseology for "last companion")|
Ok, I am going to take back right now any previous statement that I have experienced the sensation of cold in the last 17ish months, except for the times that I've been in a meeting where President Dester has control of the AC. I have never been cold.
That said, right now I am cold! And this week, I have been FREEZING! I had a big surprise last Monday when I found out that I had a transfer, and so I am now in Santa Rosa de Copán (I came back to Copán!) with Hermana Luna. And it is cold! In Santa Barbara, a normal day was in the mid 80s and into the high 70s at night, and the nights felt a little bristk. Here we are in the 60s and the 50s. The 50s! One of my first days, it got down to 53! That is SO COLD! So yeah, I bought four sweaters and I wear my pants under my skirt and when I am in the house, I have two socks on each foot. I don't handle being cold very well. This is why I am grateful that I did not serve in Russia. On the other hand, as Hermana Marley says (one of the sisters with me in the MTC and thus going home with my who is also in this area) this is just good practice for being home. True that.
Santa Rosa is pretty much how I imagine San Francisco, but in a Honduras sort of way. In the center of the city, you can find just about anything. Down to Betty Crocker instant pie crust mix and Kirkland brand canned chicken, it's all here. The streets are cobble stone, but not in the dangerous, prone-to-trip way that the streets in Copan Ruinas were. But as soon as you get out of the center, there are hills. And not just one big hill to get up to the next level. I'm talking one big hill to get to the stairs, and then stairs that look like they go on forever, and then another big hill to get where you are going. Total San Francisco (but I guess I should visit San Francisco when I get home to prove this theory, because I haven't ever been there). We have a pretty tiny branch, even tinier lately because everyone is staying safely hidden in there homes from the cold and the rain. But I like it here, just the same. My companion is from Bolivia and is very different from just about any other comp I've had, but I like her. I'm sure we shall have many adventures.
Leaving Santa Barbara was a little bittersweet. Walquidia and her kids were tearing up a little. Bayron extended his arms for a hug and I had to tell him that missionaries don't do hugs. Cumatz said she was going to call President Dester and ask him to leave me there for six more weeks. But I was able to keep calm through it all, because I had been praying that the Lord's will could be carried out, so I knew that whatever happened came from Him. So it worked out. I got a little nervous on the bus out here when I had to pull my blanket out of my bag to keep warm, but it's okay, I think I'll survive.
I love this work. It's just my favorite. I think that these six weeks are going to be the best of them all, because I don't have any reason not to throw myself into the work with reckless abandon. That sounds fun. I love this remarkable chance that the Lord to share His gospel, especially in this beautiful season that the hearts of the children of men are more fully turned to their Savior as we celebrate Him. Have you all looked up He is the Gift? Look it up. It's awesome. So even if my teeth will be chattering and my skin turning a little blue, I am glad that I have time to proclaim glad tidings of good joy to everyone in Santa Rosa.
I hope everyone has a good week and that you can all stay relatively warm! I love you all!
Love, Hermana Pickett