Hello, My Sister

Wednesday morning I looked out my window and saw a lovely woman from Tanzania who is here to attend the temple. She looked so beautiful that just had to snatch up my camera and run to ask her for a picture. She was very gracious, though she was struggling with a toddler who wanted very much to jump into the fish pond with the fishies. There were 2 other children with her and they allowed me to snap their picture holding “Flat Nathaniel” (the topic for another blog). If you look closely you can see that the little girl is holding him. The sister was so sweet and told me she is the primary president in her branch and the 2 children in the picture with her are her primary children (her own little one is behind her back and you can’t see him.)


I came into the office and printed the pictures for her on photo paper and took them to her a few minutes later. She was, of course, surprised and so happy. She told me her name, Sister Tiba (Teeba) (meaning treatment or cure) Furaha (meaning Joy), and I went into the patron housing office to borrow a pen and paper to write it down. When I returned the pen the office sister said, “It is interesting that you would take her picture today because she has quite a story.” It seems that when she and her husband arrived they discovered that although they had been married tribally they had no civil documentation of the marriage. Therefore they could not be sealed. They also have an 8 year old daughter who had not been baptized. So everyone scrambled and held a baptismal interview for the little girl to be baptized today and arranged to perform a marriage later for the couple. Then they would be all sealed together.

I found Sister Tiba again (she was in the patron housing kitchen showing her pictures to the other sisters) and told her I knew of her story and would like to take another picture with her husband and both children. As we were leaving the office abt 5:00 we saw them getting ready for their little girl's baptism.

They said the marriage was to be at 8:00 the next morning and they would like to have us come. The temple president told us it would be at the Joburg Ward, but we waited there that morning but when no one came we went back to the office and found them in a room doing pre-marriage paper work. We stayed for the marriage which was not much of a celebration for them and I waited for some time after to take their picture but they were so long coming out (more paper work) that I was unable to get a picture then in her beautiful pink African gown. She came to tell me later that the sealing would be at 6:30 pm and wanted us to be there. It was an honor for us to attend their marriage and sealing and Dad was one of the wittnesses.

This morning I opened my window when I saw her and she called, "Hello, my Sister." I went out and we visited one last time and I learned more of her story. She was born in the Congo in 1978 and is the only child of her mother. Her father took her from her mother when she was 12 and she has lived in Tanzania since then. She was baptised in 1998 and her husband was a friend of her step brother. She doesn't know if her mother is dead or alive because she hasn't heard from her since 1995 when she visited Tiba in Dar es Salaam (Tanzania). She was holding my hands and said, "When I saw you in the sealing room I thought, "There is my mother." Of course I cried with her and we hugged. She has such a sweetness about her. She was so pleased to know that I had a son her same age and I told her I would tell my children about her and send pictures of them to her. We promised to correspond and she asked if she could send names for temple work to be done. I told her we would be honored. With one last hug we parted. The tragic part of this beautiful story is that her husband, Felix, and little girl, Debra live in the Kwazulu-Natal where he is employed and Tiba lives and works in Dar es Salaam. She said he does not make enough for her and little Abraham to live with him. But, she said, "He will come."

It was so hard to see them separate and go two different ways as they departed the area offices. Once again I am filled with gratitude for this African experience.

A Note From Elder Wells: One Lord, One Faith, One Baptism (Ephesians 4:5)

I know today is not June 8, 1978, but I am rejoicing in that day as I live and worship with my brothers and sisters from so many different countries. Like a very few other days in my life, I will always remember where I was when I learned that the priesthood was to be given to all worthy male members. Like many others, I cried (and still do) when I realized what it might mean.

The realization of its meaning still unfolding catches me by surprise here in Africa. I often work in the temple on Tuesday afternoons when the missionaries come over from the MTC. I am met by a wrinkled little man whose smile somehow covers his entire face. When we shake hands and he welcomes me to the temple, I know I am welcomed by a man who treasures his opportunity to be in the Lord’s house. I am washed momentarily in gratitude and recognition of God’s love as I look down at a white hand and a black hand clasped in brotherhood. (In the picture are two of the noble temple workers with Elder and Sister Snow, and the one on the left is he with the wonderful smile.)

Sister Margaret Rambau,a woman who works in the Area Office, is giving us the privilege of doing some family names for her, names I can’t pronounce but I am honored to carry to the temple.

During the months of October and November we attended the Johannesburg Ward. Except for the occasional senior couple missionaries, there are two white members. You’ve seen the pictures of these wonderful saints sent home by Gayle. There we are, watching the primary sacrament meeting presentation, and the children sing, “I am a child of God and He has sent me here . . .” and I am captured in the realization of what it means that these cherubic little faces know they belong to their Father in Heaven.


Maybe it’s the singing that gets to me, or maybe the prayers, or maybe it’s the realization that I have been taught a Sunday School lesson in a way that I’ve never thought of before, but these saints make it new for me. A brother offered the invocation in sacrament meeting the other day, a warm and sincere prayer peppered with echoes of an earlier church affiliation (They often say, “Let us pray” when beginning a prayer.) I whispered afterward to Gayle that he had done well, considering we saw him baptized just a month ago. She couldn’t believe it was the same man. “He seems too confident,” she said. But it was.

In priesthood meeting a week ago, we sang a rousing, “Ye Elders of Israel.” I could hardly get through it. Forty six years ago as a missionary in the Northwestern States Mission, we sang that song at the end of every zone conference. Now, these brothers of mine, these Elders of Israel are inviting me to come join with them in seeking out the righteous where ‘ere they may be, in Mafikeng or Polokwane, in Kinshasha or Lubumbashe.


And I rejoice. I praise God for His love and mercy in bringing 240,000 saints thus far in Africa to the full blessings of His plan of happiness, up from 110,000 just ten years ago. The Lord is shining His light on Africa. Gayle and I are blessed to bask in that light.

A Missionary Returns Safely Home

Just before Christmas we had a young Elder from the Durban mission who became very ill and was brought here and hospitalized in Johannesburg. It kept Elder Wells pretty busy for about 10 days going back and forth from the clinic and providing for his needs there (we had to buy him a toothbrush and other toiletries, towel and washcloth, do his laundry, etc.). We were so grateful to locate his older brother, a young returned missionary, and his wife who live in JoBurg and were great to visit him every day. They live in a suburb called Tembisa, about 45 minutes outside Johannesburg. They have no car so Elder Wells would give them taxi money, pick them up at the taxi station and take them to the clinic to visit and encourage their brother and return them to the taxi station.

Eventually we were able to get this young man safely home to Kenya on Dec 30. And as a bonus and blessing for us, because the elder could not travel alone, and rather than Elder Wells needing to accompany him, his brother Fredrick was able take him safely to his family in Kenya. Still, learning how to make all the financial and travel arrangements was a new challenge for us and it was a relief when we saw them off at the airport. This is Elder Owuor, his brother, Fredrick, wife, Olga (not her African name, which I can’t remember, pronounce or write) and us at the clinic one Sunday.


SUNDAY IN THE TEMBISA WARD

We have been attending the Tembisa Ward this month. Brother Fredrick is in the bishopric there and Sister Olga is the Relief Society president. When we met them they said, “Please make the Tembisa Ward your home ward.”

Today was the first day Brother Fred was in church since his return from taking Elder Owuor home to Kenya and he made an interesting comment in Sunday School. We were discussing the power of the Lord in our lives in answer to our prayers and he gave this example: “Say you have an interview and you don’t have money for transport so you kneel down and pray and then someone comes and he gives you the money so that you can go to the interview and be successful. This is a miracle that the Lord provides. So brothers and sisters lets walk in faith because miracles do happen.” But then he continued, “But your prayers must be righteous prayers. Compare to someone who prays for an expensive new car and he doesn’t even know how to drive or have a license. You are praying unrighteously and should not expect that miracle.”

I continue to be amazed at how little I understand of the simplicity of the lives these good people are living. They have so little, but they are prayerful and faithful and grateful for their blessings and believe completely in daily miracles.

The teacher in our combined meeting (a very young Elders Quorum president) commented that he liked to listen to the testimonies of those new in the church compared to those who are maybe 15 years old in the church because they are pure and simple and are full of gratitude. I had to smile. I like to listen to them too, but I also love to hear the old-timers at 15 years old in the church to recognize their depth of understanding and mastery of the scriptures and their solid commitment to the gospel.

At 60 + years in the church I feel I must listen and learn all I can from these African Saints, young or old. I have so much to learn and only 11 more months to do it in.