After a long day at work, being met with grouchy boys when I walked in the door, and forgetting I had to go visiting teaching, life just seemed to be kind of a downer :(. Anyway, I was cleaning up my email and found this note that my mom had forwarded on to me about my cousin who is on a mission in Baltimore. Hang in there--it is worth the read.
I do not expect this letter to be an epistle, but I can promise nothing. All is well in Brooklyn Park! I had a very interesting experience last night! The two rules set by our mission President are, and I quote: "Don't be outside after nightfall, and don't go into Cherry Hill unless you have a referral." So last night one of the members, Brother Kearns, asks us to go home teaching with him. So he shows up at 6:30, the sun is down but we can go out if we are with a member.
Now to accurately tell this story, I need to tell you about Cherry Hill. Cherry Hill is a hill overlooking the city of Baltimore and the Inner Harbor. There are seven miles worth of Section 8 housing and government built buildings which are part of the "projects" set up by Franklin D.Roosevelt during the "New Deal"" trying to resurface from the Depression of 1929. Cherry Hill was started in 1940. Needless to say it is strictly an all black area, very prejudice towards whites, and not a place a missionary should venture, even with the Spirit.
So we get in the car, and Brother Kearns tells us we're going to Cherry Hill to visit some less active members. Naturally I got very scared! So we drive down Potapsco Ave. and then it happens. We arrive at Poter Street, we don't go straight, we don't turn right, we do the unthinkable, we turn left and begin the ascent up Cherry Hill! Naturally my missionary spirit flame was instantly snuffed out due to lack of oxygen from hyperventilation. I sat thinking to myself "Don't go out after nightfall, and don't go into Cherry Hill without a referral"
And there we were - three white guys in shirts and ties in a '95 Camaro with a broken muffler cruising into Cherry Hill in the dark. I don't think my prayers have ever been more fervent than at that moment, peeking out the car window at the rough, shabby dimly lit houses with thousands of people walking the sidewalk or sitting on the stoop ( front porch). Some people catch a glimpse of us and look at us like we are crazy! Almost every corner has a blue light on it.
A blue light is an elevated 24 hour police surveillance camera. And huge spotlights have been set up so they shine down the road so there are no dark corners to hide in. It was like Dr. Seuss's worst nightmare! Some hoodlums jumped out from behind a bush and lobbed a rock at our car. It hit with a loud "thwak" and Brother Kearns sped away yelling, "Are theyshooting?!" So we finally find this place, and I am very reluctant to even think about gettingout of the car. Finally I work up the courage and we go to the door and knock. We get the typical Baltimorian greeting of "Who is it!" yelled through the door. Once they found out it was us I heard the lock click and the door open and we were inside.
The walls were bare and the paint was cracked with age. The carpet was gone leaving only a cement floor. I saw cockroches scurry across the wall and around the corner into the kitchen where a little girl was cooking who knows what in pans that looked like they had never been cleaned. My first thought was "OH MY GROSS!", but then I heard a little girl say, "'Da Elda's ah Back!, Yea!" Suddenly I was surrounded by 5 little black girls with their hair all freshly braided and a new set of beads in their hair. They all wanted me and Laney to play with them. They pulled out some monopoly money and some dice and me and Laney pretended to play craps for a while, then they stole the money and said "I'm rich!" Me and Elder Laney were like, "Hey! Who you been hustlin' that money from?" They thought that was hilarious. Then they wanted to show us all their new dresses that they got at the Salvation Army. They all tried to jump on me so I went into play mode, grabbed one and lifted her up to the ceiling! They were all like, "Wow, wow, my turn, my turn!" So I lifted them up to the ceiling, all of them one at a time, with them giggling and screaming and laughing, and it hit me all of a sudden. The thought in my mind said, "Wow, here I am in the projects of Baltimore in a house infested with cockroaches and I'm happy." It didn't matter that the girls clothes were a dirty, it didn't matter that they had probably never seen a bar of soap. They were all beautiful little girls, they were all children of God living in the poorest of circumstances, yet they were happy! I was so humbled in that moment. I knew that I was supposed to be in Cherry Hill at night with that family so I could have that thought. I don't think I have ever been a prideful person, or one who judges others, but in that moment I realized what charity truly was - what "the perfect love of Christ" truly means. I'm sure as Autumn goes to Brazil she will have similar experiences, and I don't doubt that Kase has had some like that. Missions are truly such great experiences, and they truly do help you develop so many Christ-like attributes. This Christmas I will be sad to not be at Grandma's eating clam chowder and tomato soup and the cheese ball will sorely be missed. However, I now know how blessed I was to have those things. I asked the girls if they had any plans for Christmas and they got really confused looks on their faces. I realized that in Baltimore kids don't have fathers that stick around, they don't know who their grandmas are and what an aunt or uncle is. They still get presents but a used toy at the Salvation Army doesn't compare to a brand new X-Box 360 or some new computer games. I now know why Grandma cries everytime she blesses Thanksgiving dinner. She lived through the depression. Did she have a Thanksgiving dinner? Did she have friends in her neighborhood that didn't? Chances are she did. Now I feel awful for teasing her about her tearful prayers!
So this approaching Christmas season, be grateful for all you have. Be grateful for your family, be grateful for the food. Be grateful that you know what a bar of soap is. Be grateful for your new toys, and be grateful for a loving Jesus Christ who will love you no matter who you are, what you did, or what you have said. I love you guys so much and I miss you, but the Lord is blessing me so much out here! I would not trade this experience for anything! Not even Grandma's clam chowder! May God Be With You!
Love, Elder Streuper (Spencer)
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