Hello, my little kumquat!
I look forward to seeing you soon, before you go into the MTC here in Provo. How happy I am that you have soldiered on, despite setbacks and delays, in making yourself worthy and solvent enough to go on a mission for the Church! I am checking with my Bishop to find out how I can support you each month with that $25 we talked about before.
Now Daisy, I promised myself when you received your call to the Irvine California Mission that I would not burden you with tedious advice or tiresome maxims -- but I do have one story I would like to share with you concerning my initial conversion to the Church back in 1971.
As you may remember, it was my clown colleague Tim Holst who first got me interested in the LDS Church. Through his example and friendship I agreed to take the discussions from the missionaries when he asked me to.
I was initially skeptical about it, because I had been approached by other proselyting groups before -- wanting to sell me magazines and other claptrap. So I was on my guard with the two Elders who came over to Tim Holst’s roomette on the train several evenings each week while the circus was in rehearsals down in Venice, Florida. They weren’t going to pull the wool over MY eyes!
In fact, at one point in the discussion they asked me if I would like to have the Priesthood of God, and I cannily replied: “Maybe. How much does it cost?” They were quick to explain it didn’t work that way!
I eventually did feel the Holy Ghost testify to me that what they were telling me was true, but before I reached that point I was deeply impressed by something else. By their brotherly kindness to each other. This is what kept me asking them to come back, even though I refused their invitation to be baptized several times in the course of our discussions.
The senior companion was a big husky fellow, a former quarterback on the BYU Cougars team. He was tall and handsome; a very confident guy with a big winning smile. His handshake was as firm as the Rock of Gibraltar. His companion, in comparison, was a shrimp. He was straight off a dairy farm somewhere in Idaho. He parted his hair in the middle, was slightly cross-eyed, and stuttered a bit.
What I still remember to this day about them is that the senior companion treated his junior companion with such sincere love and affection that it caused me to choke up each time I saw them together. The senior companion let his junior handle almost all of each discussion. Back in those days the missionaries used a flip chart with pictures and questions on each page -- which they kept flipping as they discussed each aspect of the Gospel. That little junior companion would stutter out a phrase or two, and then sometimes drop the flip chart -- but his companion never criticised him or tried to take over. He would bend over and hand the flip chart back to him with a smile. And the junior companion would smile right back at him.
That feeling of harmony and brotherly kindness between the two of them made me want to experience the same kind of thing, and I began to hope I could find it in the LDS Church.
As you know, they finally succeeded in getting me to accept their invitation to be baptized, and Tim Holst baptized me on New Year’s Day at the Sarasota Chapel. That evening the train pulled out for Tampa, and I never saw those Elders again.
On my own mission in Thailand I always tried to emulate the brotherly kindness I had seen demonstrated -- with varying degrees of success. Most of my companions were good company -- often very well educated and poised. They were easy to respect and get along with. But some of my companions, to put it bluntly, were bumpkins and slackers. Sometimes I was able to love them anyways. But sometimes not.
If there was one thing I could change about my mission in Thailand, it would be to have made more of an effort to show kindness and to be encouraging to those companions who were the least lovable. As it was, I never regretted any kindness I ever did for any of my companions. I wish I had done more for them. They each did a lot for me, whether they realized it or not.
I hope, Daisy, you can take away something from this story to help you be a better missionary out there in the wilds of California.
Con gran afecto, the dadster.
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Daisy's response:
Dad,
Thank you for that story! I have been reminded several times by friends and family that some of my companions will be hard to love, but not to worry because HeavenlyFather can give me the love I need to work with them. I will strive as hard as I can to love each of my companions as Jesus would. That is one thing I am nervous about, but mostly I’m just excited and ready to go!
I am so ready to see all of you and spend time with you before I leave :) And you don’t have to worry about supporting me on my mission; I have been able to raise all the needed funds myself since the Packers never charged me rent. I do thank you for your willingness to contribute though. If you still would like to contribute, there is a place on the tithing slip for the general missionary fund to help other missionaries who may not have had all the funds to go. Or you can donate to the humanitarian aid. Either of those are wonderful ways to contribute:)
Thank you for your stories/lessons. I appreciate your knowledge and talents. Love you Dad.
Most Sincerely,
Daisy Torkildson
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