On the 4th of September, the one-year anniversary of the day I left home, I attended the mission farewell of one Vítor. I'd watched him open his call three months previous and relived my own 4th of September as I watched him bid his friends farewell. It's amazing how much has happened since that day. I was such a shy, timid, weakling back then. Hah! Now I'm a .... well, I guess not that much has changed.... But I AM learning! You can be sure of that.
We had another baptism this past week! A 21-year old man named Fernando who was just burning with desire to be baptised from the first day we invited him. He had to quit smoking first, and he was excited to do it. He'd already tried several times before, but we promised him that this time would be different, because this time he wouldn't do it alone. He said he knew the Savior would help him and after church he was baptized! I'm super excited to have him on our team as we teach others in his street.
"This one likes to sleep. This one likes to play. Aw, and this gorgeous fat one got eaten by my neighbors."
"Huh?" I asked, sure that I'd misunderstood her.
"My neighbors ate him. He was so beautiful, too! Imagine how my heart broke!"
It was then that I learned the truth about the barbequed skewers of meat sold on the streets here really are. That's right. Cat-kabobs. The venders call it beef, but now I've been warned that when the meet is super red, it's actually someone's Fluffy that was snatched. People here really have to look out for their pets. Now I feel disgusted every time I walk bast the churrasco (bbq) stands. I've since heard this same story from other people who have lost their kitties to such an end.The moral of the story is: Don't eat red meat on the street in Brasil. Heh heh, rhymed.
I love you all!!!