Goffstown Goodbyes

Week Fifty-five in our New Hampshire Manchester Mission

experience was busy in a different way for us.

Oil in our lamps was replenished in many ways, as usual.

This hand-drawn graphic was sent to us by Elder Walker

in a thank-you letter in which he expressed appreciation

for the Dunkin' gift card that celebrated the one-year

commemoration of our "flight group". His expression

shows how surprised we ALL are at how time flies!

Must be June: there were red oriental poppies blooming 

as we walked past Barbara Shirley Anderson's property on 

St. Anselm Drive on one of our final trips to St. Anselm College 

before our move. (Mrs. Anderson's paternal family were 

early settlers, hence the common 'Shirley' in area street names, 

such as often-traveled Shirley Hill Road.)

Two mission vehicles required safety inspection updates

in Maine, so we drove east and then slightly north across

the Piscataqua River to Kittery, ME to have those completed.

Then we headed back to North Hampton Beach for a shore walk.

(New Hampshire's entire shoreline is only 13 miles -

the shortest of all the 23 states bordering an ocean!)

 A 'Jonathan Livingston Seagull' descendant posed

for a picturesque photo op on the shore's tidal wall . . .

 . . . and so did Elder Warner, in front of the Beach Plum

'walk-up' food stop, standing next to the friendly lobster

promoting their famous ice cream treats.

Senior missionary apartments are in transition this summer,

as leases expire and watched-for apartments have become

available. This map shows the relationship of the Goffstown

apartment complex (Highwood Village), the new address

in north Manchester (Greenview Village), and 

the NHManchester Mission Office.

Greenview Village improves our proximity to the office,

(only 2 freeway exits away), and upgrades in size and quality.

Thomas Jefferson wrote, 'You never appreciate a place

until after you have left it.' Joni Mitchell re-phrased that

slightly to be 'you don't know what you've got 'til it's gone'. 

Interesting that some of the things we had

begun to find fault with in Goffstown were some of

the things that we will miss the most: proximity to

the forest growth out our deck window; longish daily drive;

neighbors with their tobacco use on nearby decks

(won't miss the smokey smell, just the friendly hellos).

Now we get to have those novel, first impression experiences

all over again in a second location. (Rather a blessing,

to live in two places in one metropolis.) But now

we begin again to build familiarity: where to put the kitchen

gadgets for easiest access; how to find the scenic pathways

for our walks; how to situate the tv for evening sunset viewing;

where we will find a convenient ice cream vendor.

Bird life and forest critters have delighted daily.

We will miss seeing the cardinals, jays, gray squirrels,

and chipmunks. Knowing our photo ops were dwindling,

Vince kept watch with cell phone camera primed to capture

the illusive and beautiful blue jays, but they won THAT stand-off.

Early one morning I captured this one on the deck, a split second

before he heard my shutter click and was gone. (This shot will also

help us remember how close the lush tree growth was.)

Here is a professional photographer's shot (Russo)

to demonstrate the brilliance of this bird!

My intentions were always to record a little bit more

about our Goffstown experience. 

Suddenly it has turned sentimental!

To begin, some historical background from their website: 

the town was named after early settler, soldier

and civic leader Colonel John Goffe.

Colonel Goffe's lifespan would make him a British colonial citizen, 

and later a New Hampshire American.

First settlers in the 1700s found the area magnificently

forested with hardwoods on the hill and white pines

on the "pine plains" which extended along 'Mast Road',

so named because the tall pines could supply long

and straight beams that were needed for the ship masts of

the Royal British Navy, harvested and

shipped down the Merrimack River to the coast.

Goffstown is for Manchester what Sugar House and Murray are

for Salt Lake City proper. This road sign, below, that we viewed

each day on our commute, also shows how at our crossroads

on NH Rte. 114, Bedford (location of mission home) was

not too far away, as well. Following the Goffstown arrow,

we could get to the rail trail for cross country skiing, or . . .

. . . to vistas of Glen Lake.

This photo is one I clicked within a few days of

our arrival - still a beautiful memory. (Vince in silhouette)

 On the town square at Main Street is this monument

to Civil War (and other) heroes from Goffstown. 

In  background right you can see a beautiful tree in bloom . . .

 . . . and this closer-up shows the exuberance of
blooming "foliage".

Near the town square on that day I was sight-seeing

was this COVID-19 resiliency sign, where you can see

the Main Street square, nearby church, and perhaps

get the New England feeling that is all around.

 Here's a better view of that church, as well as . . .

 . . . the town library (never got inside) . . . 

 . . . and a few homes that seem typical of the town.
Such classic architecture - still trying to figure out
why the simplicity of the style, without dormers, gables,
porticoes or bay windows so enchants me.

With a nod to former travel routines, I took the chance

to find the post office to have an envelope canceled 

to record the date (Goffstown USPS building is

unfortunately NOT historic nor charming).

My Main Street ramble included a stroll across this stone

bridge over a tributary to Glen Lake. And there's at least one

final attribute that makes this a wonderful town . . .

 . . . Main Street offers a quilt shop!

We spent a few hours each day packing up one apartment

and moving in a no-deadline, easy-pace way to our new

abode across Manchester. (We had the office Elders help us

move the largest pieces of furniture.) In many ways we feel like 

we are "movin' on up". We will make ourselves "at home"

for five months, until it is time for us to return home to Utah.

Then, the newest senior missionaries who take our place

will spend 12 to 18 months making this THEIR home,

surrounded by furnishings and kitchenware we all

inherit from the mission and from previous missionaries.

Packing up, being unsettled, displaced and slightly confused
is never fun, in my estimation, even though this was 
a completely good thing in all essential ways.
We have felt the tug and pull between old-space memories 
and new-place opportunities. Then, during today's Sunday
mission-wide devotional, the topic addressed by young
Elders and Sisters was the Christ-like attribute HUMILITY. 
These all brought to mind a favorite allegory
by C.S. Lewis from Mere Christianity called
"He is Building A Palace."

It begins "Imagine yourself as a living house.
God comes in to rebuild that house."
Lewis describes how you think a remodel will involve certain
expected changes, but soon it gets a little more expansive
and considerably more uncomfortable. He concludes:
"You thought you were being made into a decent little cottage:
but He is building a palace. 
He intends to come and live in it himself."
(Find a churchofjesuschrist.org film of this episode HERE.)

Life in the past 100 days has felt slightly or considerably 
unlike the HOME we were getting comfortable with.
As we continue to find our way forward, we hope
and pray for the best as you, the people we care about,
likewise find yourself getting used to your revamped spaces.
God bless you all to find oil to replenish your lamps.

Be Civilized

Though a troubled time in the world around us,

this has been a fun, busy, uplifting and hope-filled week,

and we have had plenty of oil replaced in our lamps!

My topic of conversation today is about helping and 

serving. Hunkering down in the apartment,

we've been watching a lot of television. Over and over we

heard the appeal for blood donations. We felt so helpless to

serve the community, and here finally was something

 open to us. 'Twas an uphill battle to make it work.

Before that story continues, I share more of these

gorgeous early summer plants we keep encountering. 

This one apparently is a rhododendron, from our walk on 

St. Anselm's campus nearby here in Goffstown, NH.

Also adorning that campus near the dorms was this

"moss phlox" bush - such a flurry of tiny flowers!

And finally, this dark-leaf black maple with its pink and

yellow-green whirligig seed pods. Such a beautiful and

early summer nod to the hope for re-forestation in the future!

With the exit of the other office senior couples, we now

share space and time with the three young Elders who

have received "special assignments" to do Mission

office secretarial (Elder Wells, left), housing (Elder Allison),

and Finance/Accounting (Elder T. Smith). They are young,

and energetic, and happy, and delightful to be around.

We have agreed to take special care about COVID

exposures, so that we can work together in our office space.

They have exchanged the usual Monday young missionary

Preparation Day (P-Day) to match up with

business routines of the office, prepping on Saturday instead.

When they discovered we play tennis at our complex,

they suggested (since they can't find a public court they say)

that we ALL play together. So that's what we did yesterday.

Saturday had some complications, so Vince received

this text, with a caveat about the "tiwi" driver feedback system

(installed in each mission vehicle to help them all drive safely). 

For me, it was a wonderful week. I feel more like I am

serving and that I belong here, having a chance to see

our beloved young people as they came in to pick up

the new re-assigned, or the returning to re-assignment

young Elders and Sisters (19 of them!) on Mon and Tues.

Then on Friday, I was able to serve Sisters and Elders in Nashua 

and Keene by delivering materials (and Panera bagels) to them. 

On Saturday, we were blessed to to get the assignment

to be people-courier up to W Lebanon where we met up

with and had late lunch with the Burlington2 Sisters

(Sisters Ashcraft from Alaska, Hemond from Texas and

Niepraschk from California). Having seen the newly assigned

companions earlier in the week realize they could exchange 

rare hugs, I negotiated a "we testify to our health" hug with each

of these beautiful young women. I can't express how much

I have missed that. Spiritual oil in my lamp, certainly!

Now, back to our effort to "make a difference".

COVID safety restrictions and concerns have ratcheted down

the number of donors that can be served at usual walk-in

locations, and governmental directives restricted blood drives.

When we contacted the American Red Cross by phone, 

available appointments were weeks out and sometimes

involved driving a distance. But we finally made our schedule and

possibilities mesh. Vince has been a regular donor, but for me

this would be a first (a blood element deficiency seemed

to preclude my participation formerly).

The wait in line was extended, and distancing in full effect.

Eventually we were prepared and squeezing to help pump.

Very quickly our volume goals were reached.

I had no problems until the very end, and then . . .

. . .  I suddenly (embarrasingly) felt light headed and 

nauseous.  As I fought to settle sensations, thoughts and

wretch-reflex, I inventoried internally for self-treatment.

 "Put your head down" came to mind,

as the benevolent tech adjusted my bed to raise my feet,

placing a cool cloth on lowered forehead. I silently prayed for aid,

calmness, control, and as usual, my prayers were answered.

And then, a CONNECTION was clarified:

in moments of trouble, crisis, distress or confusion,

I have regularly been promised relief as I put my HEAD DOWN --

and reach up to my Father in Heaven in PRAYER!!

The week that has passed has seen an amazing amount

of national distress, prompting a lot of "heads down" reactions

for those opting against putting "fists" and posters UP.

A FaceBook re-post from my Paris study abroad associate 

Susan Davenport Creager caught my mind and pulled

at my thinking. (Apologies if you've already seen this.)

I had studied Ms. Mead extensively as a senior BYU student.

Many were the lessons from her publications.

This lesson would, for me, be near the top of the list.

Another day, as I leafed through the Goffstown neighborhood 

news, I was delighted by this headline and the article.

Nice to be caught doing something good!

And then this --
 a stitched token of appreciation arrived from T. Semadeni,

mother to one of "our" flight group missionaries.

Pure love is where the balm to heal this troubled world

will be found.

Finally, something from our weekly study tied together this theme.

Book of Mormon scriptural passage for
 Latter-Day Saint families for today's Sunday study

offers these words: "And see that ye have faith, hope, and 

charity, and then ye will always abound in good works."

(Alma 7:24)

Faith that our days can get calmer.

Hope that troubling times will get worked through.

Charity for each other.

These will help light lamps as we continue together.

Praying for a blessed week.

Lost Then Found

We as a missionary force re-state our purpose regularly:

to invite others to come unto Christ by helping them receive

the restored gospel through faith in Jesus Christ [and so forth].

This is often explained as "the gathering of scattered Israel".

At the heart is the concept of "finding" - I take that as theme this week. 

My post edition features a few stories that demonstrate 

situations where something or someone was "lost".

A verse by long-ago poet Edmund Spenser 

(Faerie Queene, 1590) will set the stage:

For whatsoever from one place doth fall

Is with the tide unto another brought.

For there is nothing lost, that may be found,

If sought.

* * * * *

First, I begin with an eye-catcher showing the beauty

of this world and the area where we live. Stunning blossoms!

The first drops of oil filling our lamps this week came

as we received a surprise gift quilt from (released & home)

Sister Paytin Drollinger (Idaho) who made these wall quilts

with her mother and sister(s) as something "to keep them

busy during isolation".

This is the one that landed on my desk and

snuggled close to warm my heart.

 The surprise that Vince had most fun with this week

was a gift of damaged-framed exotic butterflies.

He loves entomology and collections, and has purchased

a few display specimens while we have been here.

Below you can see him working to repair and re-mount.

And below are some of the newly shadow-boxed butterflies.

Elder Pat Hoke of the Mission Office staff gifted the collection

that he found at an estate sale locally.

 This is a week we knew would arrive, despite our dread.

The other Office couples have come to the end of their

missions. Here below, Elder Ron and Sister Sarah Matkin

posed on the final day as Mission Secretary and

Financial Officer (and then some!).

We had a small celebration with proper distances to mark

their departure, and the birthday of Elder Wells who

will be manning the secretarial helm until the senior

missionary replacements arrive at the end of July

(delayed because of the COVID virus complications).

Elder Matkin has had a running line about wishing to

see a moose while here in New England.

Though he didn't, we celebrated with a ceramic miniature.

(NOTE the "obedient" moose - staying in the crosswalk!)

Elder Pat and Sister Bobbie Hoke

will depart early this week. She has been serving

in energetic and miraculous ways as mission nurse.

Elder Hoke has assisted her, and performed other

support functions, besides being our friend.

  "Something found" STORY ONE comes from Sister Hoke.

Though a long, interesting tale, here's a summarized account:

Sister Hoke completed her Mission Medical training in

Salt Lake City last June where they had traveled from Arizona.

After day sessions, she walked to the neighborhood

near 6th Avenue and L Streets where her grandparents had

lived when she was a child. Flooded with memories of playing

with cousins at family gatherings there, Sister Hoke maneuvered 

for the best place to take a commemorative photograph.

(This may not be the home, but it is near the correct location.)

The current homeowner, 78-year-old Louise, spotted then

guardedly questioned her. After the acceptable explanation,

Louise invited Bobbie to come inside for a guided tour.

She remembered the "same old carpet", the built-ins

in the dining room, the packed earth floor in the cellar.

Turns out there was only one other owner between grands

and Louise. Soon the two ladies moved to the back yard, 

where Bobbie recalled a 50th wedding anniversary celebration

 with extended family. In the middle of those recollections,

Louise exclaimed that she had found a sterling silver fork

in the back garden, and had kept it. 

The retrieved utensil (this is a picture of the actual fork)

prompted Bobbie to tell the story, how one in a set so highly 

prized had gone missing, that all had been enlisted to hunt and

scour the property, but to no avail. The fork was irretrievably lost.

Time rolled on. Grandparents moved and passed away.

Later, Louise had found THAT fork - providentially, because

a connection needed to be made between these two women.

Bobbie returned to her hotel, and immediately received

a low-level "emergency" text: Louise had fallen and asked

her new nurse-friend to come check her over. Louise confided:

though an independent woman, a blacksmith and

a woodworker, she had few friends and no grown children

to check on her. Now with a friend for life, there was

more than one thing "FOUND" that evening.

STORY TWO: Elder Robert Gay (Seventy) hosted a NHMM

remote devotional last Friday afternoon via Zoom from SLC.

Speaking without prepared notes, he explained about his call

to be a Mission President with preliminary information that

they would be speaking Spanish - a language Elder Gay had 

learned as a young missionary. More specifics would follow.

Sister Gay confidently declined to begin language learning,

saying she just had a feeling they would not need it.

Eventually, Elder and Sister Gay were assigned to Ghana, Africa

where they learned about Brother William "Billie" Johnson . . .

. . . who had been converted at age 30 (1964) to 

the Book of Mormon, long before missionaries had been 

allowed to preach in his home country, and at a time before 

black members participated fully in priesthood functions.

For 14 years, Billie walked across his country converting others to

what he had come to know was true, and longing to become

a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints.

One of his life goals was to lead a school for the African

children, a dream left behind as he followed those spiritual 

promptings to travel, teach and gather. A rich story had

unfolded, involving the rolling forth of missionary work in the area

and eventual baptism of hundreds of people reached by Billie that

can't fully be shared here. In essence, during Elder Gay's service 

in Ghana, meeting and working with Billie started a lifelong

mutually-beneficial relationship, leading to plans to

eventually build the long-sought for school.

STORY THREE: Young Elder Crum (recently released)

and companion Elder Bagley were leaving a restaurant

near Burlington, VT where they were assigned when a random

car pulled into the lot and parked next to them. The lady inside

motioned to them to roll down the window, so she could

talk. She handed them $10 and told them to use it to go 

buy ice cream as her treat. She knew they were 'Mormon' 

missionaries, and had recognized them getting in the car.

She was prompted to pull into the lot, and to stop to chat.

"Turns out" she is a member of the Church who had fallen

out of activity five years earlier. But after this chance

interaction, she opened up again to Gospel teaching,

and to association with the other members in the area.

Her Church activity has been restored and her commitment

to God "found" again, evidenced in her choices and plans.

STORY FOUR: The Vernal Tabernacle had become 

somewhat abandoned as a new, safer meeting house was

built, even to the point of being sold with plans to demolish it.

Friends of the historic building organized and pushed for

preservation. Eventually promptings and plans were rolled out

for an extensive "remodel" into a House of the Lord (temple).

There were a number of "found" miracles. Here are a couple:

Expansion and renovation would require repair using scarce

sandstone bricks. 'Miraculously' a historic home nearby became

available which had bricks verifiable as from the same "batch".

Volunteers dismantled, cleaned, repaired and transported bricks.

 At about the time of the makeover (when the complete

interior was removed, rebuilt to code and for new purpose),

Vince and I learned about another "found" aspect (re-told to us

by revered South Jordan UT 9th Ward member Bob Perschon).

Using a photocopied image as his visual, he explained about

the Vernal temple rebuild plans. In the photo, a foundation wall

was excavated and exposed ahead of plans to break through to

the planned baptistry location, determined to be the best way

to install the large font and oxen elements to the inside. 

There waiting in the wall was a wide arch, filled in with bricks, 

providing for minimally-invasive demolition, and
structural support, apparently planned in the century before.

STORY FIVE is from my own personal experience.

Our daughter Kenzie came to our family through

adoption, being placed at three days old. She has been

a blessing to us from the moment we fell in love at first sight.

One of my precious memories was our heart-to-heart hug

in the bride's room at the Salt Lake Temple before she

married her sweetheart Mikey. Before that,

she had always planned to search and find her birth mother,

but technicalities, and later growing demands as a mother

of four young children (later to become six) interfered

with the hunt. When Ancestry DNA testing started things

in motion, she eventually unlocked the final door, though

unfortunately Debbie had already passed from disease.

But half-sister Ashlee was found. Initial moments of

discovery were fast-paced and bumpy. Ashlee was being

cautioned by loved-ones to avoid a possible scam.

 To fact-check, she asked about a baby dress, and letters

that Debbie had mentioned in her explanation to Ashlee.

Could these be produced? In a very spiritual experience,

the dress and the precious documents were "found" by me

at the bottom of a cedar chest which had previously been

searched. A vital and eternal connection was re-forged!

(Below are Kenzie, Debbie and Ashlee.)

Journeying through life, we have these "lost then found"

moments collect themselves into our spiritual vaults.

Sometimes we know the details. 
Sometimes we are just a cog in the works.

Sometimes we simply see "through a glass darkly".

But when they come close enough, and IF we pay attention,

the sizzle of the confirming Spirit resonates, and we understand

that God our Heavenly Father pays attention to

EACH and EVERY ONE of his children --

One by One.

Hope you can watch for and remember some 

of your own "found" moments in the challenging days ahead.