What a great week. I don't things get much better than this.When I first got my mission call, I honestly was fine going wherever. I had ideas of where I thought I would go, but when I read Canada Vancouver, and Spanish speaking, that was nothing I ever even contemplated. It was something that was really weird to think about. I don't know why, but I definitely wanted to know that it was where I was supposed to go. I wanted to know what it was in Vancouver that was going to be part of my bigger picture. The parts I couldn't see, but that the Lord could. Now that I'm here, the experiences I am having are amazing. I'm sure that they are similar to any missionary, but also different. I maybe have not received a huge understanding that this is where I am supposed to be, but I definitely feel so blessed that I am here and I am learning, and I know it's where I am supposed to be.
The ward members and all other Spanish speaking people we work with find some way of calling me the big Hermana, and Hermana Williamson the small one. They think it's really funny, too. I'm probably taller than 94% of the ward, meaning there are probably 3 people taller than me. It makes hugging and besos a lot more interesting than they already are. We were doing service at Hermana Leiva's house a couple days this week because she is moving. Hermana Williamson, Marta Iris, a member, and I were cleaning out and washing the cupboards. They were both standing on chairs, and I was standing on the ground, reaching everything.
After Sacrament meeting, a couple members came up to me and commented on my Spanish. They said I don't have a gringo accent! I sound real! What a blessing. But that means they also think I am fluent. There is opposition in everything. 2 Nephi 2!