aldo

Well here we are again.

I wrote like ten letters last night so I'm kind of lettered out, but I love you all dearly. Sorella Beutler is a little sicky again so it's not been the most normal week, but we had a beautiflu miracle/adventure I will tell you about last Thursday/Sunday. His name is Aldo.

There is a city called Angera in our area, and according to Gabriele the missionaries hadn't been there for at least ten years, so we've been wanting to go for awhile. We finally got ourselves organized last Thursday at we're waiting at the bus stop. This 55 year-old man starts talking with us. We just sort of chat about how he hasn't taken the bus in 40 some years but drove into town with his sister to get his hand checked at the doctor because a rock fell and crushed it (yes Italians will tell you their life story if you just listen).

We then tell him a bit about who we are and what we do. Get on the bus. We head toward the back where there are more seats and hope he comes too. But he's hanging out at the front of the bus for awhile and we're worried. Then he suddenly runs off the bus, goes and buys a ticket, comes back and sits by us.

So we keep chatting it up. About his mother who died six months ago, about the home they have in Taranto, where they're from, about his four year-old daughter. We tell him about the Book of Mormon and how there's life after this one. Then he pulls out of this funny little plastic briefcase an invitation to his daughter's birthday party that Sunday. We give him a plan of salvation pamphlet. He gets off the bus, we head on to Angera.

Sunday, we obviously go to the birthday party. We get to his town, where I've never set foot. We head to the only open place, a bar/tabaccaria and ask how to get to Via San Michele. And no one knows. So they ask what we're looking for, and I said, "Um...a family, his name is Aldo."

This bad a guy in a wheel chair tries to pull up a map on his phone but can't get to the internet, all eight people in the bar are trying to figure out if any of them know the via and the people that work there look for their map of the area.

Meanwhile wheelchair man heads over to the adjoining room and comes back and asks if we're looking for Aldo the mechanic. I tell him I think so, and he tells us to go down the next street, down a hill, up another hill, past a cemetery and then we'll take the road that runs off to the left and that's where Aldo lives.

We go, we make it, and we spend a few hours with a handfull of 5 year-olds from preschool but mostly Aldo's 7,000 siblings and nieces. He is one of 11 children! I got to talk to a few of them about what we do as missionaries a bit about what we believe. I didn't get any numbers becuase we had to race off to catch the bus but when we left Aldo said "If you need anything let me know. Give me a call and we'll do Sunday lunch sometime and talk with more calma, and I have a truck if you need to move anything, if you need a hair cut Rosa lives in Varese and cuts hair." His youngest sister who I think would be down with talking to us a bit, and I am in dire need of a haircut.

So the work of the Lord is great, moral of the story. We had an absolutely beautiful conference yesterday and had interviews with President Wolfgramm. So great. Love that man and I love how he makes me think. I feel like I've learned so freaky much about the gospel this year. I don't know what I was doing before. And it makes me excited to be able to someday have a family that I'll be able to teach the gospel to, for reals. It's like Carrie always talked aboout both how everything she had done or learned she felt prepared her to be a mother and how serving a mission just prepared her for everything.

Well, I love you all. The babiest bad I wont be around the table with you today, or sleeping in front of the fireplace with Alice after, but we have time still. I'll make do with the great pizza I plan on eating at 1:30

xoxo

sorella bush