MB, an excellent friend, is also the perfect Home Teacher. Just thinking about him makes me smile. We have known each other's faults and foibles for nearly 40 years--and we still love each other. Even though his official calling ended long ago he still identifies as our Home Teacher. To this day, I know that if I found myself in trouble and he heard about it, he would drop everything and come from miles away to help. It may not be the kind of help I need, but he would still be there. My only concern is that if he continues down this path, he will be translated and the rest of us will be deprived of his wonderful company.
His approach to Home Teaching is unparalleled:
Announce ahead of time that the Home Teaching lesson is vanilla ice cream, milk chocolate, and nuts.
Wait until the family is away, then "break into" the house.
Place a case of Häagen-Dazs Ice Cream Bars in the freezer.
Leave without being seen.
Give the real Home Teaching lesson via exceptional living and example.
The Halloween Home Teaching visits usually went over the top. Our children were in on the scheme and even got MB his own key to our house. They hid MB in the pantry, dressed in his Halloween gear. When he jumped out at MK, she reacted the same way she did as a child in Lewisville when she ran a snake through her lawnmower. She was terrified, and could only run in place, jumping up and down, screaming. MK is overly sensitive about snakes and spiders anyway, imagine how she felt about being surprised by a big monster in her pantry. When she realized it was MB laughing behind the mask, she went after him with a broom, swatting him out of the house--I actually think he enjoyed the spanking. MB learned to hide MK's broom on Halloween. Our children learned how their mother performs under stress.
On one of these visits, he brought a Home Teaching companion. She was one of our friends and her melodious laugh made her the perfect Halloween witch. She was the wife of a prominent church leader, and it was out of character for her to go around town with a man in a rubber Halloween outfit pranking people. By then we had become somewhat accustomed to these visits and the monster and witch were greeted with light-hearted fun and nervous laughter. Things did not work out as well when they went into our neighbor's home through an unlocked garage door. Although Rusty was alone, he was not easily frightened by the Halloween duo. In fact, he thought that it was his wife who was dressed up as the witch, so he confidently marched right over and patted her fanny. Realizing that the fanny he was patting was not the fanny he was married to, he said in a high shaken voice, “You’re … not … Debby!” Purring, she replied, “I know.”
MB even sent dancing girls to my office on my birthday and reported it to the bishop as Home Teaching--twice. Just what I needed--more excitement in my life. I had to make it office policy prohibiting dancing girls. On my 45th birthday, I returned from a meeting in Hawaii to find a gift from MB--a shiny black Kohler low profile toilet in my waiting room, draped with flashing colored Christmas lights. Before I could have it removed, my father heard about it and took my mother-in-law to see the "festive loo with a view." He failed to see the humor in it and told people that someone was not being very nice to me. I am not sure whether or not he saw the Baby Ruths in the bowl, but he was seriously concerned why anyone would do such a thing. When I told him it was a gift from my Home Teacher, he said, "I guess the church is different in Idaho Falls."
A few years later, my appendix ruptured and was removed. When it became apparent that a second surgical procedure was needed, I was too sick to ask anyone for help. MB grabbed Jeff and they found their way to my home to give me a blessing just as we were heading back to the hospital. They laid their hands on my head, as is commonly done among members of my faith. They prayed for my well-being and for divine blessings to help overcome this serious illness--as such, they participated in the process of saving my life. While I was recovering, my sister called to tell me that my grandfather had died 75 years earlier, at the same age, in the same month, in the same town, from the same disease. How comforting. After that call, I wondered if I was going to make it.
MB's novel Home Teaching calmed down after our children grew up and moved on. He was soon spending most of his time living exceptionally in two other states. I began spending as much time as possible in Island Park. My memories of these past episodes of nuanced Home Teaching are warm and happy--and I know that MB loves me and is still my Home Teacher. A few years ago, when the program was renamed Ministering, I figured that these surprise visits were pretty much over.
Last month I opened our freezer in Idaho Falls and found a case of Häagen-Dazs vanilla ice cream bars covered with nuts and milk chocolate. Do I need to worry?
Ever vigilant,
RT
Ever vigilant,
RT
Comments