Following the branch’s fast and testimony meeting,
our group had our own testimony meeting, right there in the chapel, graced by
the presence of the branch president and his counselor. Dashing to the stand
first in order to not lose my courage, I revealed to my new friends, with great
emotion, how much I loved them and that I thought they were something very
special – ‘cause they are! A unique group spanning the spectrum of life
experiences – spiritual, social, and intellectual development. I bore my
earnest testimony – as an outsider, as well as fellow saint in the gospel.
As I had been sitting in fast and testimony
meeting, the first hour, my thoughts had turned to our pioneer heritage that had
heeded the call of the restored gospel and had come over from the British
Isles, how they had formed the backbone of the burgeoning faith, and how their
blood continues to run through the veins of stalwart members all over the world
today – especially in America. As part of my testimony I felt moved upon to
express my belief that the blood of Ephraim found here in these, my British brothers
and sisters, had an important role as yet to be played out. I encouraged them
to continue steadfast and faithful to what they knew was certain and true.
Another thought came to me during both testimony
meetings. Leah and I have discussed where here in England the ones who join the
church are often special needs cases, in every way imaginable. You or I might
look at their outward appearance – not the best-looking, or most fashionable, fit or engaging, and not because of anything they had ever asked for and done – and fail to afford them adequate
respect; you know, like judge them on the surface to be inferior. And yet, when they opened their mouths to bear their
heart-felt testimonies, they were transformed – and I suppose the listener was
transformed, as well. I was amazed seeing it happen over and over again. They would
come up to the stand, seemingly the most ordinary of persons, and I would be moved and enthralled by the words that came out of their
mouths and the spirit that radiated from their souls. I felt remorseful for how I might have unfairly dismissed them, thinking surely
this one or that couldn’t possibly have anything that uplifting to say.
Loraine, our benevolent hostess, shared her
feelings, saying to all of us, old and new friends: please come back, and make
me better. I thought that was really lovely. Have you ever noticed in life how
it’s magnanimous people with that sort of personal outlook who view everyone
else as being so good and kind – because seen from their eyes everyone is! I
just think it’s interesting how it always seems to work like that. A great
trait . . . that I wish I had more of, and commit to get better at. Carole in
her testimony remarked that having the gospel in our life and not sharing it is
like having a large chocolate cake and keeping it all to ourselves.
As our meeting came to a close, the bishop’s
counselor added a few closing remarks: for one he wanted to inform the sister
from Utah to please keep her exuberance for England to herself, as the British
Isles were a very small place, and there wasn’t enough room for all the members
of the church from Utah. Hah hah – very funny.
After returning home, we had the nicest formal meal
of the entire weekend. You could choose sliced roast beef or pork, with mashed
AND roasted potato, swede, asparagus and carrots, sliced bread (always nice,
bakery white bread; unfortunately, my least favorite part of every meal – only because it wasn’t wholemeal), a formed ball of stuffing (I'm finding that that is the usual way to serve stuffing here), and applesauce to accompany
the meat portion. AND there’d been a choice of starters, as well – mine was sliced pear
with some kind of fancy cheese on top. In case you can’t tell, our meals were
exceptionally choice – adequate portions, nicely turned out with imaginative
cuisine. Oh, yeah, and there were five different choices for dessert to cap our
feast – really fancy things, too.
A day or so back I had asked Loraine if she would
please share some historical information about the Richmoor Hotel with me. She
started telling me and then we decided everybody else would probably enjoyed
hearing it as well. So she saved it for our special Sunday meal: built in the
late 1700s, the building had originally been a doctor’s surgery, sounds ominous
but actually that’s the name for a simple old doctor’s office here, still is today.
The structure next to that had been a maternity hospital (not like the BIG compounds
we envision a hospital as nowadays), and next to that was the morgue. All operating
as hotels today, she jokingly asked us to please not leak this information to
the people sojourning in the third one over, as it might very well taint their
stay.
Since I’d come all this way, I had thought about
staying on with Carole in Poole for a couple days, but the chance to save 20
bucks began to gnaw at the miser in me, as well as did the opportunity to
return to the peace and comfort of my own surroundings - 'warm fuzzies,' you know. Too tempting to pass up, I took Roger and Andy up on their offer to let me travel home with them.
As they both had work assignments waiting for them early the next morning, we left directly
after the mid-afternoon repast. No time for a tearful departure. (Somebody had said something about there being snow
around Bristol the day before, and sure enough we saw some random patches,
scattered in the fields as we flew by.) The same journey
that had taken me six and a half hours to get down to Poole took us just under four to
find ourselves back in Birmingham. Along the way we engaged in some pretty deep, soul-bearing
conversation – I felt privileged that they would trust me with the confidences
of their hearts. I think part of it was that they appreciated having a woman’s
view from someone they could respect – older, you know (and wiser?).
Photos_
1- the Malvern Hills close to where Wilford Woodruff first entered the country and dedicated the land to missionary work
2- stuffing as orbs
3- statue in tribute to King George III, who with his patronage changed the fortune of what had been formerly a sleepy hamlet, erected in 1810 (look Ma: palm trees in England – no way!)
3- statue in tribute to King George III, who with his patronage changed the fortune of what had been formerly a sleepy hamlet, erected in 1810 (look Ma: palm trees in England – no way!)
4- Jubilee clock, also found along the esplanade –
this multi-coloured structure was erected in 1887 to mark the 50th year
of the reign of Queen Victoria
5- US troops marching through the streets of
Weymouth to board landing ships for the 1944 invasion of France, to further the
Allied quest to break Hitler’s hold on Europe
6- winter stroll, aka - beach bathhouse buddies
7- rocky shore
8- Rog with Dave, our kayak mentor, also LDS (Loraine told me the two of them had attended YngMens/Wms together in their youth), and lastly Andy - 'suited up' - the day BEFORE the Sabbath
8- Rog with Dave, our kayak mentor, also LDS (Loraine told me the two of them had attended YngMens/Wms together in their youth), and lastly Andy - 'suited up' - the day BEFORE the Sabbath
