Month: September 2023

A Party in the Streets of Bom Consehlo

Bom Dia! Today marks exactly 1 month in the field! It has been hard and rewarding every single day and though the challenges aren’t becoming easier, I can feel myself getting stronger.

This week was quite an adventure for me and Sister Perri. Beginning with last Monday and continuing all the way through last night, we had a week of constant inconsistency. For those who don’t know, a big part of every morning in the mission field is planning. We pray together as a companionship for inspiration about where we need to go, who we need to visit, and what we need to teach. We then take half an hour to write down exactly what we are going to be doing every minute of the day. In weeks past this has been a very effective and productive activity as we followed these plans almost to the letter. This week however that did not happen.

We had so many strange events come up that we had to replan every single day this week at least 3 times and even then what actually happened never was what we had prepared for.  More than a few times we would leave teaching appointments that were only supposed to be 15 minutes which ended up being 50 minutes. On Friday our phones refused to function and we ended up spending a lot of extra time in the house trying to contact our references. Many times, we’d plan to bring a member with us to a lesson and they’d have to cancel moments before. Once Sister Perri tried making breakfast while I washed the dishes. My hands were covered in soap and hers in eggs right as they shut off our water (we don’t know why, it just happens sometimes.)

Another time we were out waiting to meet up with some youth who wanted to go finding with us when we got a phone call from the mission office. They told us we had to go home and help unpack our new beds. We didn’t ask for new beds, and now we have 6 (2 old, 4 new). We also currently have two fridges, microwaves, blenders, and sandwich makers. None of these were things we asked for and the one thing we did ask for, a new spatula, has yet to arrive. Needless to say, the bed adventure took us away from our appointments for an hour and a half.

The interesting thing, though, is that even with all these changes and failed plans, I was never frustrated or upset, I was cheerful. In Come, Follow Me this last week we learned about being “a cheerful giver”. To me, this means a cheerful giver of my plans and will to God. Not everything that we think is good for our lives aligns with God’s plan. But He only ever wants the best for us so taking His wisdom with a smile and patient heart will only lead to blessings.

Well, that’s all folks. Another long and eventful P-day that maybe I’ll write about someday. Tchau Tchau for now.

Love,

Sister Alyssa Grace

Bom Conselho, Brasil

Olá todo mundo! This week was far better than last in almost every way. I woke up on Tuesday morning and just decided to dive in. I worked harder than ever and it made everything feel more enjoyable and fun. I still struggled with the language and with accepting other people’s choices, but I have come to love the work. I started trying to learn everything I could this week. I am figuring out my way around the area, I know how to best plan our day and what lessons people need, and I know how to maximize our time to find the most people. My companion sensed my increased desire to learn this week and made a few well-intentioned but poorly-timed choices to help me grow.

On Monday, we ordered pizza for dinner. I was super excited and waiting for it to come when Sister Perri got in the shower. I figured the pizza was probably going to take a minute anyway so I didn’t worry about it. That is until all the phones started ringing at once (which I couldn’t answer because you have to be with your companion to use the phone) and I saw the pizza guy walk up the stairs and pass our door to give our pizza to the neighbor. I started panicking, our pizza was so close yet about to be lost forever and my companion was still in the shower. Eventually, I worked up the courage to open the door and the neighbor pointed at me and the delivery guy realized it was my pizza. I am glad to say disaster was avoided and the pizza was eaten by two very happy missionaries.

The second time my companion decided to let me figure things out on my own was while we were tracting. We were talking with some guys in a barbershop when a drunk guy came up and put his hand on my shoulder. My companion took a look at this (which is already breaking the rules, we are supposed to limit contact with men to only a handshake) and thought, “This will be a great time for Sister Grace to practice Portuguese.” She turned to the side to talk to another guy in the shop leaving me to handle the drunk guy. It ended up being a great practice indeed for my Portuguese. He asked me things I knew like where I was from, what church I represented, where it was, and when our meetings were. As we finished the conversation, he took his hand off my shoulder and stuck it out for a handshake which I gladly gave but just as I was doing this, he pulled me into a hug and kissed me on the cheek. My companion turned around exactly at that moment and quickly ended the contact to take me away and tell me “Sister Grace you can’t do that.” I responded with an honest “I didn’t do anything,” and we laughed it off and finished the night without any more surprises.

Well, that’s all folks, I literally have 1 minute left of P-day and need to send this before we get back to work. Tchau tchau for now.

Love,

Sister Alyssa Grace

Bom Conselho, Brasil

Boa Tarde Amigos!

On Wednesday morning I woke up and began going about things as I normally would when Sister Perri says, in Portuguese, “We gotta get ready quick and meet Bishop at the Radio.” The word “radio” in Portuguese is spelled “rádio” and is said “haud-gee-oh”. I understood everything my companion said except for the very last word. In my head, I saw the word spelled out perfectly and I thought to myself, “‘Rádio’, that’s spelled almost exactly like the English word ‘radio’. I wonder what it means.”

This week was quite eventful for me. First, it was the Independence Day of Brazil on the 7th, I officially hit 2 months as a missionary on the 9th, my companion received her VISA for Japan (don’t worry, she is stuck with me until the end of the transfer), and President Nelson turned 99! Something else happened this week that I never thought would happen in my life, let alone only 12 days into the mission field; I was on the radio. The whole event was very fun and very confusing, let me explain.

Half an hour later, we are walking into a radio station. I think to myself “Oh we are meeting Bishop here at the radio station, and then probably going somewhere else close by for a meeting.” To my confusion, however, Bishop gets there and just sits down next to us in a little waiting room. The three of us chat about our English classes which start that night until a technician comes over to us and says time to go. He leads us to a door, tells us to be as quiet as possible, and then lets us in the room.

The room is a recording studio. There is a man in front of a keyboard with a hundred different switches, microphones all around a little table with comfy chairs, and a glowing sign that says  “no ar”=”on the air”. The technician sits me down in one of the chairs in front of a microphone and I realize that I am about to be on the radio, in a language I can barely speak, and I don’t even know why. 

It ended up being about our English classes. We were there to announce that they were starting, they were free, and that we had a native speaker there to instruct (that’s me!). I said approximately 10 words in Portuguese before the interviewer decided it would be better to ask me to answer in English and have Sister Perri translate. Overall it went well and over 1,500 Brazilians heard me share my testimony at one time. The rest of the week, people would message us about the classes or stop us in the street because as the only American in town, it’s safe to assume that I was the one on the radio.

As fun as the radio was and the other events of this week, I really struggled at times. My Portuguese is to the point that I can teach almost every point in a lesson and can even make simple conversation outside of doctrine language. So yesterday, when Sister Perri asked me to be the one to extend the invitation of baptism to one of our friends who is progressing very well, I thought I had it. The time came, when I was feeling the Spirit, and I asked in near-perfect Portuguese if they would be baptized.

You’ll never understand what it feels like to have someone from another culture, another country, in another language, choose not to progress and further their relationship with the Savior until you experience it. It hurt me more than I can say when they said no. To me, I had failed and my heart broke. My companion comforted me as best she could, and we witnessed other miracles that day that should’ve lifted my spirits, but I was down. Until this morning that is when I read 2 Nephi 2:2 which says

“Nevertheless, … thou knowest the greatness of God; and he shall consecrate thine afflictions for thy gain.”

I don’t know everything but I do know that through God, impossible things can happen. I know that what feels like the end of the world, is but a small moment that will strengthen my faith and help me grow. It’s hard, and it hurts, but it will all be worth it. I’m ready to bounce back and try again today, tomorrow, and every day. The path ahead is full of disappointments but the miracles will overshadow them 10-fold. 

Remember to let God make you what you need to become. That’s all, folks. Tchau Tchau, Valeu, Beijo!

Love,

Sister Alyssa Grace

Bom Conselho, Brasil

Isaiah 52:7

“How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him that bringeth good tidings, that publisheth peace; that bringeth good tidings of good, that publisheth salvation; that saith unto Zion, Thy God reigneth!”

Fun fact everyone, missionaries don’t have beautiful feet. At least, I don’t. Right now my feet have blisters, tan lines, calluses, mud spots, half-gone nail polish, and a dozen or so mosquito bites because they’ve never had American food before and now they’re addicted. This scripture has been in my head all week as I’ve looked at feet and tried to figure out what is so beautiful about them. I realized it’s not my feet that are beautiful, it’s the miracles these feet are taking me to that are beautiful. Let me tell you about one miracle I experienced this week.  

This week we prepared and baptized a little boy named Fernando. He is about 10 years old and comes from a convert family. When the missionaries originally found his family, about 4 years ago, they embraced the gospel with open arms. His family consists of a single mom and 4 children all of whom were baptized 4 years ago except little Fernando. He was only 6 years old and we were told by the ward members that at the baptism of his family, Fernando cried because he could not be baptized with them.

Fast forward a year and a half and Fernando is nearly 8 years old, the age of baptism. But, the last year and a half of membership has taken a toll on his family and they have fallen away. Inactive and unreceptive, Fernando’s family doesn’t allow him to be taught or baptized by the missionaries. His family struggles with financial problems, family relationships, and other serious difficulties for the next 2 years, all the while, little Fernando is hoping that one day, he and his family will go back to church.

That brings us to about a month ago, when the sister missionaries here before me, found Fernando and his family in their reference book and knocked again on their door. This time, instead of turning them away, they welcomed them into their home. The sisters taught them all, focusing especially on Fernando, and invited them all to come back to church. They accepted and for the last 4 weeks, they have worked, studied, prayed, and partaken of the sacrament trying to restore their faith in God.

On Saturday, Fernando was baptized! His mom was in tears, he had the biggest smile on his face, and his siblings couldn’t stop hugging him. When he went into the font, he was laughing! What a difference 4 years make, the last baptism he went to, he cried and now here he is laughing with joy.  

It’s experiences like this that make me grateful to be here. I’m at a point where I understand what is going on and I want to contribute but the frustration is figuring out how to say things. It can be discouraging when I can sense that a person isn’t progressing or isn’t interested and I worry that it’s because I am not able to fulfill all my responsibilities yet as a missionary. If I could just speak and be understood, maybe they’d be truly converted. But I have to believe that there are people, families, here that I can reach without knowing all the right words. 

Sunday night we had a little party for Fernando at his house. There his mom gifted me a little decorative towel with my name on it and as we hugged goodbye, she asked me to find more families to make whole. That is my goal, to bring families unto Christ and I can’t wait to go out and find them.

Some other experiences this week that were just fun or silly:

– A man asked me if I was German and seemed disappointed when I said I was from the USA.

– Members like to ask me what the English equivalent of their name is. It always makes them laugh to hear it.

– A lady grabbed my hair and held it next to hers to try and see if they were close in color. It wasn’t but I told her it was “Quase”=”almost” the same.

– Accidentally told Sister Perri we need to “garden” over the fence instead of “climb”.

– Got used as a jungle gym by a little toddler in a lesson and didn’t know what to do so I just let him. His mom seemed cool with it, she didn’t try to stop him.

– I get called “Sishter Gwache” by almost everybody here. It’s really cute and makes me smile.

Well, that is all for now folks. Gotta go, gotta work. If you feel so inspired, please pray for some new friends we marked for baptism yesterday, that they can keep this commitment. Obrigada. Tchau tchau.

Love,

Sister Alyssa Grace

Bom Conselho, Brasil