Reaching Out: One Winter Day

Today JannaLee and I got up, ate a light breakfast (finished off some delicious cinnamon rolls), and drove up and down Otago Bay. Why would we do so? We tried to locate members of the church who live in such places as Ravensbourn, St. Leonard's, Roseneath, Sawyers Bay, Port Chalmers, Carey's Bay, Deborah Bay, Dowling Bay, Waipuna Bay, and Aramoana. Our plan was to visit with those who were home; to leave them Books of Mormon, a pass along card, and contact information. Out of the seven people on our list, we met with two of them--and one sister’s “mate.” We left Books of Mormon with those at home, and leaned other Books of Mormon against door frames for those who weren’t home.

The day was beautiful. Clear, blue skies, moderate temperature. 

We drove around some beautiful spots, and through some nice neighborhoods. Much of our driving took us up steep hills and around twisty, curving roads. It’s a bit unnerving to drive on the narrow roads. I feel like I need to take a deep breath to make myself as narrow as I can when passing by on-coming traffic. In fact, I’ve had some worrisome thoughts during some nights when I’ve awakened and thought about driving around the bay like we did. At that time I hadn’t done so. My mind was ripe for imagining all sorts of horrors. The thought that haunted me was making a slow right turn around a part of the mountain that juts out, only to have my back left tire go over the side of the road, pulling the back of the car down toward the water. As I’m spinning my tires to get back onto the road, it becomes apparent that we’re going to slide into the bay. 

Fortunately we didn't have to experience this scenario. Even so, it’s hard to describe the roads we drove on--much less the driveways. 

At times the roads are reasonably wide. At others it’s a wonder that they allow two-way traffic on them. In other cases, the driveways climb heavenward to the houses atop a steep hill. The roads dive down toward the bay in some instances. 

One road was dark and windy on account of the dense trees and foliage it cut through. At the top of the hill lay a quaint cemetery: The place was called “Lady of Thorn Dell.” 

Visiting a Woman and Her Dogs

Down from atop this hill sits the house of a 69 year-old woman. I'll call her Jane. And in Jane's house bark three huge dogs: One black and white; the others are black cocker spaniels, When we drove up to the house, a worker was standing under the enclosure. We couldn’t tell if he lived there or not, to begin with. He had long hair and a longish beard. JannaLee suggested we just drive on because she felt nervous about the man. We bolstered up our courage and approached him. He was a worker, as I said. Jane was inside. As we passed him by to knock on her door, he asked us if we knew that the dogs were loose. This made us both nervous. He said he’d check for us. He leaned into the second door and yelled to Jane, telling her that she had visitors. He looked back at us, nodding in a way as to say, “It’s ok for yous to go in now.” (Kiwis actually say “yous.”)

Jane let us in. Her three dogs barked and yelped and walked around JannaLee and me, smelling every part of our lower torso. They were big dogs, as I said--especially Shadow. When he smelled our hind parts, he pushed his nose right up into our crotch--and gave us a push, to boot. Jane told them to stop it. But it was clear the dogs were in charge--not her.

During our visit we talked about how suddenly Ivan, Jane's deceased husband, passed away. They were talking together one evening 11 years ago. Without warning, Ivan fell back into the chair, his eyes rolled back, and he was gone. We talked about her two older daughters: Pam and Sally. Jane said she became a member when she was 13. Her parents had been taking the lessons for three to four years. Jane had listened. But her parents couldn’t give up their coffee, tea, and cigarettes for the church.

All through our discussion JannaLee was nose-to-nose with one of the cocker spaniels that sat in front of her on a brown ottoman. More than once she dodged the dog's tongue as it tried to lick her. The odor in the house was pungent with “dog.” And while wanted to get to know Jane, it was hard to concentrate on her when she was clearly beholden to the dogs. At one point, one of the dogs climbed up on her lap, and leaned back upon her with its front legs in the air. It looked like it was trying to be human, and she allowed it to sit like that. On occasion, while she scratched it's belly, the dog would look back over its shoulder and lick her cheek. She’d scrunch up her face, tell the dog “No,” and let the dog do it again. It was hard to watch.

We read out of the Book of Mormon with Jane: Moroni 10:33-35. JannaLee prayed, and we left.

Gail Phillips

We had a tender visit with Gail Phillips. Gail lives in an assisted living facility: Koputai Lodge. Gail is 66, but looks 80. She has long, white straggly hair. She speaks with a high, squeaky voice, mumbling most of the time. 

Although she reminded me of the poor widows striving to make ends meet in the back streets of London, Gail had a child heart that was as pure as it was tender. She was waiting to be taken to the eye doctors to check her eyes after having cataract surgery. One of her eyes bled afterward. She was having it checked. We talked about her baptism. She couldn’t remember the Elders who baptized her. She couldn’t remember what it was about the gospel message that impressed her enough to be baptized. But there she was. Happy to see us. Happy to receive another copy of the Book of Mormon. Wishing her boys would come visit her from Australia, but not really expecting them to. They haven’t been around to see her for five years. We read from the Book of Mormon, Moroni 10:3-5, and spoke of the blessing of the Savior’s willingness to extend mercy to us as he lifts us and supports us in all we do through faith. She asked me to pray. I did. I took a photo of JannaLee and her. And then we left.

As we walked back up to our car, JannaLee became tearful. She was thinking of the meager conditions that Gail has to live in. “At least it’s clean,” she said, trying to comfort herself. “At least,” I thought.

Walking Aramoana Beach

After completing our visits, we drove out to Aramoana Beach. We walked, arm-in-arm toward an out-cropping of rocks. It seemed a short distance. But the more we walked, the more distant the two out-croppings became. 

Finally we came up to them close enough to see that one had a whole in it: a heart-shaped hole. We took pictures of each other around it. 

Then we sat on some rock and watched the waves roll in and lap the beach. The waves weren’t very big. The tide had receded a lot. So we had plenty of sand to ourselves--and the few people we passed on our walk.

One group we talked with was a husband, wife, daughter, and small boy. They were fishing off the beach for blue cod. I told the father that I had never seen anyone fish off a beach. “How far do you need to cast in order to get a bite.” “Farther than I’m doing,” the daughter responded. We spoke about our being missionaries, but didn't feel to take it further than that. As we left, the daughter said, “Welcome to New Zealand. You’ll find out that Kiwis fish off of anything they can.”

Fush and Chups

On our way back we stopped to walk through Port Chalmers. 

Bea had recommended some places to get sandwiches. They were closed. One place, "The Portsider,” was open, but it didn’t offer food we were interested in. We decided to drive on through and pick something up in Dunedin.

I kept a pass along card in my pocket. We were going to go to Capers, but they were closed. We finally walked into the Fish and Hook. Charlie waited on us. He asked who we were. I introduced us, and asked him if he had heard of the church, before. He said he hadn’t, so I gave him the pass along card I had in my pocket, and wrote my number on a separate piece of paper for him to use if he was interested in further discussion. JannaLee and I had fish and chips (or in Kiwi: fush and chups) and shared a bowl of seafood chowder. Though it seemed to have every sea creature imaginable floating down deep in the mirky broth, it was tasty.

Reflecting on the Day

At times throughout our day I was taken aback with the realization that I was traipsing up a steep driveway, making sure not to slip on the wet pavement, facing two large dogs barking and bounding up against a glass door, as I carefully leaned a Book of Mormon with a pass along card and our contact information against the door frame. At other times I was strolling along Aramoana Beach with JannaLee talking about whether we feel like we’re serving a mission--and what more, or what, now, the Lord would have us do to serve Him.

Love to All,

Elder and Sister Ward