To Write A Missionary

Spiritual strength frequently comes through selfless service.
Some years ago, I visited the California Mission, where I interviewed a young missionary from Georgia.
I recall saying to him, "Do you send a letter home to your parents every week?"

He replied, "Yes, Brother Monson."

Then I asked, "Do you enjoy receiving letters from home?"

He didn't answer.
At length, I inquired, "When was the last time you had a letter from home?"

With a quavering voice, he responded, "I've never had a letter from home. Father's just a deacon, and Mother's not a member of the Church. They pleaded with me not to come. They said that if I left on a mission they would not be writing me. What shall I do?"

I offered a silent prayer to my Heavenly Father: "What shall I tell this young servant of Thine, who has sacrificed everything to serve Thee?"
And the inspiration came.
I said, "Elder, you send a letter home to your mother and father every week of your mission. Tell them what you are doing. Tell them how much you love them, and then bear your testimony to them."

He asked, "Will they then write to me/"

I responded, "Then they will write to you."

We parted, and I went on my way.
Months later I was attending a stake conference in Southern California when a young man came up to me and said, "Brother Monson, do you remember me? I'm the young missionary who had not received a letter from my mother or my father during my first nine months in the mission field. I'm the one to whom you said, 'Send a letter home every week, Elder, and your parents will write to you.'"
Then he asked, "Do you remember that promise, Elder Monson?"

I remembered.
I inquired, "Have you heard from your parents?"

He reached into his pocket and took out a sheaf of letters with an elastic band around them, took a letter from the top of the stack and said, "Have I heard from my parents! Listen to this letter from my mother: 'Son, we so much enjoy your letters. We're proud of you, our missionary. Guess what? Dad has been ordained a priest. He's preparing to baptize me. I'm meeting with the missionaries; and one year from now we want to come to California as you complete your mission, for we, with you, would like to become a forever family by entering the temple of the Lord.'"

I replied, "When one has faith as you have demonstarted, our Heavenly Father hears such prayers and answers in His own way."

Clean hands, a pure heart, and a willing mind had touched heaven.
A blessing, heaven-sent had answered the fervent prayer of a missionary's humble heart.

Thomas S. Monson -That We May Touch Heaven -October 1990 General Conference

You know...I always have the intention to write a letter to my missionary friends.
But then....I never know what to write.
Do they want to know about my life? I halfway feel like I'm just doing a journal entry.
Do they want to know what's happening elsewhere? What movies have come out? What has happened in Hollywood things like that? I suppose if it dealt with things they were interested in I could mention it...but I halfway think that they just want to focus on missionary things....
which lends the problem of...
What do I write?
My solution?
To not write.
Instead.
Draw!
I drew a couple of comics to a missionary and I hear that they're really entertaining to show to the other missionaries.
So.
I will draw!
....now what to draw...... ;) lol

Until you next see these words;
I'll be watching the leaves.
Enjoy the day!

-Sarnic Dirchi

The Dream

A band of pirates got shipwrecked on a sandy island, and they were surviving, getting along, until they heard that one guy on the crew knew where the lost treasure was. Then they turned on each other desperate to find it, going into the bowels of the ship to find it. But the band after the treasure went too far, and they killed a young boy in the process. Beheading him. I and a couple others discovered his body. He looked like a puppet...so not like a real dead person. Because he actually wasn't a real boy, but if something had happened, he would have been able to survive as a real boy....

Then the unholy tones of daylight pulled me away....
and I became myself again. :)

-S.N.D