I saw another angel fly

When we arrived in Tampico there was scaffolding around the tower of the temple. The original Angel Moroni had needed to be “resurfaced”(which happens every 5 or 6 years due to wind and weather), and during the process of taking him down there was an accident and he broke his arm. For five months our angel has been in Veracruz being fixed, and a substitute has been atop the temple. This morning we watched as the he was carefully removed with a complicated series of ropes and pulleys and our very own Moroni was set in place. Shining and polished he stands, blowing his trumpet; announcing the glorious news of the restoration of priesthood keys and all that that includes.

The rains have come, but like in Camelot, they seem to confine themselves to the evening and night time and the days continue sunny and hot (today the forecast is for 108). Monday we traveled across the river into the state of Veracruz where there are three branches of the Church which belong to our temple district. We had addresses of the chapels, but were successful in finding only one. The other two were nowhere to be found, and even their addresses didn’t seem to exist. We will do more checking before our next adventure in that direction. In these newer areas the chapels are usually located on narrow dirt roads. In every case they are the prettiest building, and have the best maintained grounds in the neighborhood. This is the only area of Latin America we have lived in where one will see a wood house interspersed with the more typical cement houses. Within the same block there will be lovely homes and then a shack. They do enjoy bright colors, and a sure sign of money is to see a painted house. Pinks, blues, greens and orange are typical all mixed within the same block. We have been impressed with the lack of poverty and seemingly higher standard of living in this area. The fact that this is the oil capital of Mexico has a lot to do with it as there are good jobs to be had.

However, that said, Monday when we crossed into the next state of Veracruz searching for the chapels, we did come upon a huge “tent city.” And I don’t mean nice pup tents with floors and netted, zipped windows. I mean ropes from trees with a blanket or table cloth thrown over to give some privacy and shade. Since it had rained the night before there was mud everywhere. Some “homes” had cardboard sides, others branches. Paper signs with the families names designated property lines. The area appeared uninhabited as we drove through the muddy, dirt trails. We assumed that the people had gone into the cities to beg or make money anyway they can. It was definitely a humbling experience.

Speaking of humbling, may I tell you about Marialena. At the age of 30 she developed a terrible disease (no one can give me a name for it), which began paralyzing her body. That was about ten years ago. She now can only move her fingers, eyes and talk through clenched teeth. Once a week faithfully she comes to a temple session! She arrives in a taxi and our guard with the help of the driver have to lift her out and get her strapped into a wheel chair in which we have pillows so that she can be at about a 175 degree angle. We pin her temple dress onto the clothes she comes in, and assign a sister to accompany her in the session. This dear sister's joy in life is attending the temple.

Another sister, Hna. Mata, comes four or five times a week. Crippled since birth, she is supported by large braces on both legs and maneuvers with crutches. Whenever, I am tempted to feel sorry for myself all I have to do is remember these sweet sisters.

Love to you each, Mom