Climbafamilytree123: Going Home

I have a book called Leaving Home. It used to be on a bookshelf next to my bed (small, red and white, right of Children the Challenge, Emma Burning and Three Cups of Tea.)

Now, it could be anyone's guess which taped box it waits in a menagerie that walls our mud room shop. But Going Home will be our sequel to it. We are two thirds the way through our mission numero uno. Yes, we are on our way home!

Okay, this photo truly was for someone else at the Salt Lake airport, but it is wishful thinking, and what if we begin with the end in mind?!

Temples close twice a year to shine floors, walls, and spires--a two week break offering respite to workers, who sometimes have grand babies born they need to meet

and bless and hold and love.

Other grandchildren beg to be swum with,

"peek-a boo"d with,

Children and grandchildren requesting to be walked with, sung with,

(Yes, we found the hidden lake!)

talked with,

read with

toggled with,

swung with,

dined with

noticed!

hugged, cuddled,

watched over in learning, talents

and tethered tight!

When children make their way into the wild blue yonder...

old and young congregate and disperse...

Meanwhile (and Amber may contest it should be the "nice while") we position cameras and hearts, hoping to capture a moment or two and hold it tight for a lonely night or difficult day ahead.

Above was a picture prelude...and below, I hope to share adventure in writing. Episode number one is titled:

I. Losing Sister Clarke

Four days before our flight, Sister Wagner (navy blouse) touched my arm with a simple request: "Will you please watch over Sister Clarke?" (teal top)

A group of missionaries on their final transfer had been scheduled to fly on our United flight about noon on Thursday, May 1st. I nodded. We watched groups of them behind us and wished one of our assistants well, having missed connections due to fog on his way to Costa Rica.

On our leg to Houston, one sister sat behind me, another to Val's left, avidly marking a book to give to a California best friend that she had been hesitant to share with before coming to Honduras.

Her mission changed her--and it is easier now to share. Both sisters jotted their emails for me, between my conversations with a pastor from Texas escorting his school group home from a service outing here.

The missionaries hung together, and I only thought to check with Sister Clarke at customs, as we removed our bags to set on a new roller belt after placing our passports on a screen to identify ourselves. After returning to hunt my missing missionaries, Elders and Sisters arrived in droves, helping one another gather luggage pieces and get on their way.

Meantime (this time was a mean time) Val neared his eating time. Food was wanted, and food court we found. Leisure and lovely, that half of chicken breast, vegetables, pinto beans, and for Laurene, a frozen yogurt. Restroom time, and maybe they have SIM cards for phones... ? While I checked on this, Val inquired to learn that we had been functioning on Mountain Time for the past hour, but the airport was on Central. Our plane would leave in five minutes. Running, loping, panting several hundred yards, from gate to gate, looking, finally reaching the correct gate number. When we approached the desk, our gate minder scolded us. We could see the plane and it had not left, but the gate was closed and on no uncertain terms, we had missed our flight.

Trudging to the courtesy desk to see if we could be helped, Sister Clarke and Elder Longshore came into view, and joined us in line. They had been sitting for an hour at the United gate (again, not knowing the correct time) and had also missed their flights. The United courtesy attendant looked through the computer data to find both Val and I and the Elder from Yelm, but the Clarke she first thought was Breanne, was someone else--there was no Breanne Clarke in the system. This brought us to review Sister Clarke's itinerary, which showed that she was booked on Alaska Air (not United) to Seattle. Alone. Her flight was missed. And I learned on a courtesy phone that the next Alaska flight to Seattle would happen at 5:35 p.m. the next day.

United found us a new flight leaving 7:30ish pm, a completely full flight, with just three seats left on it. We were told (Elder Longshore, Val, and I) to "Go!" "Now!" But, what about Sister Clarke? "She will need to go to Alaska Air," they said. "They can help her. You will miss this flight if you do not go, now!" Noticing our dilemma, a woman in line touched my arm. "My name is Sister Dusty. I am the wife of a branch president. We have two hours here in the airport. I will help." She gave me her cell phone number, which I copied carefully, and we ran.

Good news. Grand relief. But, later, waiting at the new gate for the later flight to Seattle, I began to wonder what was happening with Sister Clarke. On another courtesy phone I dialed the number I had written for Sister Dusty and got an answering machine for a business like “Joe’s Wrecking Yard.” So disconcerting! But what could be done? All we could do was hope. Val asked me to pray, which I did, and we continued to pray and hope (and try not to fuss) for five hours flying together to Seattle.

I had asked Sister Clarke not to worry about being overnight in Seattle, should she have to do that, because I had a brother and sister in law who lived there, who would pick us up and bring us to the airport the next morning, and she could stay with us. When we arrived, I went directly to Alaska Air to inquire about Breanne Clarke. But rules will be rules. And, by the way, anyone can spend the night in the Seattle airport safely. (Which might be true, but in "doing unto others," I would not likely choose a night at an airport, when bed was a choice. The Alaskan clerk finally in undertones said, "I will tell you, and I should not do this, that she is scheduled for an 8:30 flight to Spokane, tomorrow morning. I could tell you more, if you were a confirmed family member, or could prove that you purchased her ticket" (I could do neither, but was trying to merit my "Sister" badge.)

When we found our luggage and went outside to watch for Megan's Prius, and crammed our luggage, and me into the back seat, Val in the front, I remembered that my little notebook had Sister Clarke's address and phone number. A way to reach her mom! Breanne's mom, Nancy, answered her phone, finally, and called Alaska to confirm that Breanne was on the United flight just after us, departing at 9:40 pm, which would be arriving in 15 minutes. Val booked inside and waited. Sitting compacted into Megan's car, I called airport paging, who announced "Sister Clarke, meet your party at Alaska Airlines" which she heard as she walked off the airplane. Val found Sister Clarke, giddy with happiness. "I knew I would find you, and that you would wait."

Because the Gee master bath was being remodeled, Megan had arranged for us to sleep at Mari and Tom Short's house . As the Alaska flight was scheduled for 8:30 am, they suggested we arrive at 6:30. So we set our alarms for 5:45 am after arriving at 12:30 am. (My watch read 2:30.) When I knocked on the door to see if the phone alarm had worked, I found Sister Clarke kneeling by her bed, which touched me.

The choice to leave Breanne in the airport, would have allowed us more time with Megan sitting leisurely at her kitchen table, catching up. But we would have been worrying the whole time about Sister Clarke. I walked to help her check in, with the help of a kind attendant. It took a few tries, but was ultimately successful.

When I had listened to this Hermana share testimony the Sunday before, I had brushed back tears. The faith she exerted was simple. When I called her days later, she had just spoken on Mother's Day, acknowledging that a mission has given her skills and talents that will help in her desire to be a future mother . I cried hearing her testimony, because I felt her words, and her convictions. I am learning that Lord looks upon the heart.

Other lessons learned:

1. It helps to know where you are and what you are doing next (i.e. time zones matter in air travel!)

2. Someone upstairs is watching over missionaries (even those less sure of where they are or where they are going next). Sister Dusty (surely wife to one of the three Nephites) reached missionary travel to ensure Sister Clarke a seat to Seattle traveling first class!

3. Pray (when the pilot announces a nail in a tire and you are pending an 11 pm arrival-- the nail may turn out to be a suitcase brad--with minimal punctures, not needing a tire change!)

4. Pray on your knees, even with only four hours of sleep. Sister Escoto used to tell us, prayer is like Jell-O and "there is always room for Jell-O. "

5. Keep a promise. What a relief it brought to watch our friend, Hermana Clarke, walk safely to her travel checkpoint, to feel like we had done what we said we would do. A small picture came to us of how Heaven must feel after those who are lost. What it is worth to find them. And true joy in seeing someone safely home!

“We must cherish one another, watch over one another, comfort one another and gain instruction that we may all sit down in heaven together.”

Lucy Mack Smith, Relief Society Minutes, Mar. 24, 1842, Archives of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, 18–19.

P.S. So, with our three extra hours in Seattle airport, I found a new purse (made of seat belts--that I want to bring with me to use in seat belt-less Honduras taxis!) The price is right--only $308.00 USD!