Loving Father

                We address our Heavenly Father with the same word we give our earthly father. It reminds us of his intimate concern for our welfare and his never changing love. One of our words this week was gravity—which means being drawn towards. While the gravitational force of the earth draws us to its surface, there is a similar force from our Heavenly Father that draws us to him with an unexplainable desire to be close to him, to return to him.            

                We started teaching one more class of soldiers this week and there on the center aisle was a soldier with a name tag we have been keeping our eye out for since September. His unit rotated to Camp Casey in July and his mother asked another soldier who is also in South Korea but far away from here if he could find him. That soldier is on the Military District Council with Wayne and asked if he would watch for him. Sure enough, he bleeds pure blue, a faithful BYU sports fan and LDS. He’ll look at our name tags for three weeks and be reminded of who he is and the direction of his home.   

                 I’m trying to find corners of time to do some walking so I followed a trail near the Education Center during one of my teaching breaks and came upon this little burial ground. I share a story of one of our forefathers or mothers with our grandchildren each week. I wondered about the stories of these grandparents whose resting place is so lovingly groomed. I feel a draw to my grandparents who honored their faith by their service to family, church, neighbors, and community. I am thankful to know that one day I will meet them and be welcomed into their loving arms.

                I had just started my weekly shopping when a soldier asked me when I would be going home. He had undoubtedly seen me before and knew I was here for a limited time. We were alone in a corner of the store and he took time to share with me that he had grown up in a faithful LDS family complete with graduation from early-morning seminary. When he made the choice to join the Army instead of going on a mission, he quit going to church altogether. Now he was feeling the pull to return to his faith, make some changes in his life course, and come closer to his Heavenly Father. I wasn’t in his path at that moment by chance. God is in the details of our lives always inviting us to “come unto him.”

On weeks when we are teaching our district of missionaries shift their meeting to our apartment so we are able to attend with them. I’ve noticed a pattern of the zone leaders attending our district meeting on that week. It may just be the draw of the American sweets I share when they come or it may be the fellowship we feel as we gather in a close group, sing and pray together and learn from one another. What a joy it has been to be tutored by these young people. Transfers are this week so our Korean sister will be returning home. Only senior missionaries avoid a transfer so we will undoubtedly experience more changes.

While Wayne was tutoring soldiers in math, I went for a walk in the park. I found a harmony (grandmother) picking these tiny red berries from the tree. They looked like wonderful food for the winter birds to me, but she was holding the branch low with one hand and picking the tiny berries with the other to put in her cart. I stopped and just started picking because I knew she would appreciate the help but she would also refuse it. We gleaned all the berries within our reach on the first tree and she communicated to me in her Korean that it was cold and told me 갑시다  which means, “Let’s go.” I finally put my gloves on my very cold hands and started to walk away. Then she went to the second tree and started to pick so I went back and didn’t leave her until she turned her cart toward home. She had about a gallon of the berries. I have no idea what she will do with them, but I noticed that she didn’t put any of them in her mouth so I didn’t either. I wonder if the next generation will continue the traditions of their mothers in gathering the foul smelling gingko berries, pulling out the seeds, drying them and then shelling them. Or, gathering these seeds or the acrid acorns or the greens that grow along the river in the spring. As I watched her walk away I wondered how I could feel so much love for this little woman I had just met. I think it is part of the connection to our Heavenly Father which makes us sisters.