A humbling visit.

I went visiting teaching with the Reddishes again today. The last one on our list: Lily.

We always have to try extra hard to see her. We have to go just at the right time because she doesn't have a phone so we can't contact her to set an appointment beforehand, we just stop by sometime after 6 and hope that she's home from work. We also can't go when it's raining because that would mean that we would be ankle deep in water. It floods there whenever it rains. "It's ok, Sister," she always says. "We cannot complain, we have a roof over our heads. That is enough." Their little TV is the greatest luxury in their lives.

My brother Ray has been there and he knows her place as "the wooden house with no doors". She lives in the ghetto. Big time. I didn't know places like that still existed in the world - much less in my own city (ok, so we ARE a 3rd world country...) Her daughter Allisanne (I don't know how you spell it, but that's how it's pronounced) is as skinny as a stick and always sick with something. They take in stray dogs and have a million of those poor diseased and flea bitten mongrels. I got to meet the latest addiction today, a tiny black puppy about the length of my palm. They need to stop feeding those dogs. Then again, maybe they don't. They are just bone and skin and I swear they only look as big as they do because of all the fleas stuck on them.

Lily can't come to church because she lives too far away and the only form of transport she could use is a taxi: but that's too expensive. We used to have a small group meeting in her area on Sundays, for the express purpose of catering to people like her but the group kept shrinking and everyone moved away so we had to close it. *sigh*

Lily called me May again today. The first time I met her was nearly three years ago. Pre-Hawaii. I went out proselyting with the sisters alot in that area then. Lily called me May then, she calls me May still now. I didn't think she remembered me.

She was saying today about the sisters who are now home from their missions (I need to kick them and tell them to write her) that she just feels so much pain when someone you love leaves so much so that she doesn't want to love anyone like that again.

I told Lily that I might be leaving for Hawaii in 3 weeks. I felt so guilty, talking about college and travelling. She was so happy to talk about Hawaii and the "huge sumo-wrestler people" there... she talked about American girls and their blonde hair and blue eyes and how wearing contacts can turn you blind... and Elizabeth Taylor. One day when I'm rich, I will look her up and see if she still needs help to take a vacation to Hawaii. I told Allisanne to study hard so that she could get a scholarship and go to BYUH like me.

Sister Reddish shared the spiritual message. It was about feeling the love of the Lord through obedience. What can you teach someone who is teaching us so much? We just felt so inadequete. I was asked to say the closing prayer and I wanted to just demand that God pick them up and move them out of that place! They are developing the area and will demolish those squatters soon, moving the tenants to Government low-cost housing. Last time, they told us 2005, this time they said 2006. I'm so frustrated that I can't do anything about it!

I asked for Heavenly Father to watch over them and to bring them peace and comfort. I prayed that Lily would remember to turn to Him for strength in her time of need. I feel a little angry in a way that she has to go through all that while I'm here complaining that the air-conditioning is too cold.

We can't compare trials, I know. I just feel so weak in comparison. I admire her. I will never figure out how she does it.

I'm blessed because I will never have to experience such extreme poverty. If that's supposed to be a good thing, why don't I feel happy for me?

Visiting teaching. Who does the visiting, and who does the teaching?