One day when we were all at wits end, and I was far beyond that, I
saw a shimmering light of hope in the window. Just the thought of being
outside was taunting me, I wanted to go out. It was a perfect day, not
too hot, not too cold just how I like it. I climbed over the AC unit in
our room and climbed on the window frame. Placing both hands on the
window I saw the shrubbery and different variations of foilage outside.
Needless to say it was a wonderful sight for such tired eyes. Words
escaped my mind and all I could conjure up was, now get ready because
this may sound weird, a raptor noise. I don't have the slightest idea
where it came from or why it happened all I knew is that I couldn't
stop. I shrieked for a good three minutes while everyone in the
classroom laughed at me and told me to keep going. After I was done and
had released my feelings I felt much better and I feel like the rest of
the class felt better as well. At our cleaning check only two days
letter we received a "needs improvement" their reasoning: There are hand
prints on the window.
Another fun think that stuck out in my mind this week
happened yesterday (Monday) but it honestly seems like it happened an
eternity ago. For this story you need to the background of my
relationship with the one Soeur Rhondeau. We have what the multitudes
would call a love hate relationship. Although we know we are good
friends down deep it always seems that Rhondeau is eager to disagree
with my regarding music or whether or not people should speak their
language during basketball games in Ogden, but that is a whole other
matter in and of itself. Our wonderful teacher, Soeur Larsen, had come
down with some terrible sickness that kept her from working that day. We
had a substitute by the name of Soeur Pace. During class we are
learning what you would call the passive voice and it is rather boring
and has already proven to be rather useless. nevertheless we are all
extremely bored and unwilling to share ideas or even attempt to answer
questions. Rhondeau, who is a French major in college, of course has all
the answers but she says them in the most mouse like voice I've ever
beheld. There is a particular question that none of us are particularly
inclined to answer but Rhondeau keeps muttering under her breath. I
finally say, "Speak up Rhondeau." Such a simple and sarcastically said
phrase that our sub mistook the nature of our relationship and promply
made me stand in front of the class for a good five minutes. This is the
biggest form of public embarrassment that I've encountered in the MTC
yet.
Final story. They say save the best for last and oh boy
I have. During our zone resource class on Thursday I had the opputunity
to teach a French native. The nature of the teaching went this
way. When he was teaching he would say something in English and I would
respond in French. When I was teaching it was all French all the time.
He started teaching and gave me the role of one of his investigators. My
name was Tom (I found it funny that they use Tom for investiagors, I've
never met anybody named Tom) and I had neglected to do the reading
assignment which this wonderful French missionary had given me. He said
this to me, "Tom, I want you to know about this book like I do, because I
know that this book is the truest book on earth. Please re read the
first line if you aren't reading in a French accent right now. I also
neglected to mention that he is explaining third Nephi chapter eleven.
he continued with, "If you would have read you would have read about how
Jesus came down from the heavens and teach the people of the america.
Tom, do you understand why I want you to read this book?" I promply
responded with, "Je ne sais pas." He then said the phrase I'd been
longing to hear for such a long time. He replied, "I want you to read
this book, because I love you." Three simples words is all it took. I
blushed. Never had someone been so bold about their feelings for me. I
felt the blood rushing to my face never had I encountered such flattery.
And it was only the second meeting! As he watched my face flush red he
realized that those three words were not the words he thought they were.
Stumbling over English he said, "We love you."
I will never forget when my first Frenchman told me he
loved me. And honestly I do recommend you read that story in a thick
French accent because it makes it so much better honestly. If i wrote
all that and you don't start me a blog I will be extremely peeved. I
usually am content with writing such things in my journal so don't make
me regret this. No one wants to wait two years to read such marvelous
stories. It also really helps because I haven't been able to write
anything creative since I got here.
Love, Elder Oliverson
