What exactly is a missionary? A missionary comes in two varieties: Elders and sisters. A missionary comes in assorted sizes, weights and colors----green being the most common among the new ones. They are found everywhere, hurrying, climbing, knocking, walking, and getting thrown out. Converts love them, young girls worship them, the law tolerates them, dogs hate them, most people ignore them, and Heaven protects them. A missionary has the appetite of a horse, the enthusiasm of a firecracker, the patience of Job, the persistence of a salesman, and the courage of a lion tamer. A missionary likes letters from home, invitations to Sunday dinner, conferences, checks, and visits from the Mission President. A missionary isn't much for tracting in blizzards (or any other weather for the matter), ladies who slam doors, hats, suits and dull ties, apartment houses, transfers to hot areas, shaking hands at arm's length with opposite gender, alarm clocks, and "Dear John" letters. A missionary can get homesick, discouraged, and temporarily lose faith in the whole human race. Yet nobody else can knock so boldly with such a shaky hand. Nobody is so early to rise or so tired at 10:30 p.m. And nobody else can get such a thrill at the end of a discouraging day from the words, "Come right in----I've been waiting for you." A missionary is truth with a pocket full of pamphlets, and faith with 69 cents in its pocket. "Hey, Dad, where is that check?" Yes, they are all this, but a strange lump will rise in its throat the day it receives its letter of release, and on arrival home it homecoming speech will probably contain the phrase it once considered trite. "The time I spent in the mission field ws the happiest time of my life."
Pretty good, huh? Well, that's about all I've got to say this week. Hope everyone has a great week filled with memorable experiences! Love you all, and Happy Valentine's Day in case I forget to say it next week. :)