Adventures in Paradise Volume 2 #33

Kia ora! Our excellent adventure continues with a departure from the norm.  Usually, I would create our blog, hoping that my words would possibly strike some sort of responsive cord in the reader. We would add a few photos to aid in your visualization and then I would close by expressing my gratitude that all of you are part of our lives. As I viewed the myriad of images that I wished to include this week, I realized that very little text was needed as the children spoke for themselves. So, by way of a simple tutorial, may I just explain that the body of these photos were taken at an area gathering located in the tiny village of Te Araroa. It was a Sunday morning and the special conference afforded the opportunity for a reunion. Tents were erected, as the tiny chapel could not possibly accommodate so many visitors. It was a beautiful day and the joy was palpable as old friends greeted each other. I have often said, or rather warned, that when we finally leave this island, there will be one less child in residence. That one child will be tucked away in my suitcase as I return home with the sweetest of souvenirs. Perhaps, as you pour over the faces of these charming children, you may want to imagine which one of them you would tuck away in your luggage if you were given the chance to spirit one of them away with you. 

May I just mention, also, that most of these children are considered to be full-blooded Maori, although eye and hair color may surprise you. Many have an European ancestor or two tucked away in the family tree and that relative has added to the gene pool in lovely and exotic ways. 

This is Kahu. We were privileged to teach him before he was baptized.

This is Andres. It was cold and Andres came to our home for FHE "rugged up" to keep warm. He is wearing flannel pajamas, socks, and a hooded bathrobe. It is not at all unusual for sleepwear here to have a hood, so that one's head can be kept warm while sleeping. 

This is the Whanga family. Young John was our first baptism and we have grown to love this little group. Notice that of the three sisters in the front row, one is blond. In attempting to pronounce the family name, you might be interested to know that in Maori, the "wh" sounds like an "F". Also on a touching note, the baby was named "Halo" and she is a little angel! 

This is couple is blind. They know that their boys are beautiful, without ever having seen their little faces. 

Perhaps you may have picked out the child who has most captured your attention. As for me, I can say that while I have threatened to bring one of them home with me, I can assure all parents that their children are safe from kidnapping as Sister Belliston would not be able to choose one over another.

As usual, we are happy and trying to work hard. We have learned to love the people here, especially the little ones, and we hope that you have enjoyed to opportunity of looking into their faces. We can tell you, also, that we have missed the opportunity of looking at your faces and hope that you have realized just how much you are missed.

Love, Ward and Susan     Elder and Sister Belliston, serving in Gisborne, New Zealand

Adventures in Paradise Volume 2 #32

Kia ora! Our excellent adventure continues with thoughts centered on what was almost lost. Last Saturday an eleven-year old child, after a disagreement with family members, tried to take her own life.  As you might imagine, this has been a distressing and distracting week for many, as those close to the family try to sort out and absorb the events leading up to this tragedy. Even though a life was not lost, it is tragic just the same, to know that suicide seemed a viable option to this young girl.

In a country where it is unlawful to leave children under the age of twelve alone at home, it is mind-boggling to imagine that a child, who is not even old enough to be left, would choose to make a decision that would absent her from her family forever. So, as her family, the church and her community, work together to address the root cause of her choice, I am struck by the enormous loss that that one choice would have represented.

When I was teaching Adult Roles at Bountiful High School, I remember having a discussion about suicide with my students. The focus of that discussion was a short statement that I had written on the board. “Suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem.” From the vantage point of adulthood, we learn that tomorrows offer solutions. We have learned that hope is a precious commodity and resiliency is a gift. We have learned just how far-reaching many decisions are and that none of us lives or acts in a vacuum. What we all do affects others in more ways than we can ever imagine.

The hurt that this young girl was intending to inflict on her family simply because she was upset would never go away. The lesson that she was trying to teach them would not be learned and in the place of parents regretting certain treatments as imagined by their daughter, grief would be their permanent instructor. 

This week, I have found that my thoughts have often been focused not so much on what the family would have lost had the attempt been successful, but rather on what precious moments that eleven-year old would have erased from her possibilities. I realize that since a child does not and cannot perceive the world in adult terms, there would be no way of her contemplating all that would be lost. Her focus was a very childlike aim to make her family feel sorry. How terribly and tragically short- sighted that sort of thinking is. How permanent that shortsightedness becomes.

Hamlet pondered whether to be or not and in the end, decided to be. Perhaps he considered all that would be missed, all that he would miss and hopefully, all who would miss him.

It’s windy in Gisborne today and if I were considering not being, I would hope that before making a decision I would remember how it feels to have the wind blow through my hair.  I would hope that I might consider how much I love a colorful fall afternoon and the nippiness in the air. I would hope that I might remember how lovely it is to bite into a crisp apple and how quiet an evening snowfall can be. I would not have missed being a mother for all of the world or to have been a part of my family. I would hope that I would not choose to prematurely sever relationships with people that I love. I would always choose to be, no matter what.

So, as I think about the young girl that everyone is praying for at this moment, I would pray that she chooses to stay on this planet thus enabling her to experience some of what my life has included. I also pray for her that she will stay with us so that she can find what joy there is in just being. I pray that she and her family find the peace that they so desperately need and in the finding, grow closer together. I am praying that she enjoys the fruits of living an ordinary life. I am praying that she will recognize the gift of life for the extraordinary blessing that it is. I am praying that she chooses to be.

As always, we are happy and trying to work hard. We have had reason this week, to reexamine and appreciate more fully the lives that we live and the people who and experiences that fill our days. We are grateful not to have lost them.

Love, Ward and Susan     Elder and Sister Belliston, serving in Gisborne, New 

Adventures in Paradise Volume 2 #31

Kia ora! Our excellent adventure continues with some thoughts on keeping your corners. As we have mentioned before, the roads here are narrow and winding. One can travel for many kilometers without seeing ahead in a straight line. It takes a steady hand, and deliberate attention to avoid coming into direct contact (crashing) with oncoming vehicles. When I was teaching, the drive from Salt Lake to Bountiful would take approximately twenty minutes, weather permitting. Traveling the same distance here, due to the topography, takes approximately forty five minutes! As you can imagine, there is the temptation to “speed” things along by taking those ever-present curves in a less than prudent manner.

         Every day, there are accidents, some more serious than others, caused by drivers who carelessly take chances on New Zealand roads. There is such a concern about this, that the government has erected sign after warning sign reminding drivers to be cautious. One sign simply says, “Slow down, what’s the hurry?” Another reminds drivers to think of others. Yet another suggests simply that other people make mistakes. In amongst all of these warnings there is one that has kept my attention every since we arrived. It shows a car on a curve. The car is actually crossing the center line and there is a large red diagonal bar that slashes across the whole photo. The warning: “Do Not Cut Corners!”

         On our narrow roads here, that warning is more than prophetic. If you are taking a blind curve while cutting the corner, the chances of your contributing to a disaster are pretty high. The message is clear. Cutting corners is dangerous!  It’s interesting to note that those caution signs concerning cutting corners outnumber all of the others two-to-one. It is ever so much smarter and safer to just follow the rules.

         In thinking about trying not to cut corners, it occurs to me how this rule of the road is also a wise adage for life in general. Just think of all that we miss when we cut off the corners! I have a mental image of my home without its corners. Wouldn’t it fall in on it’s self?  Before we left Salt Lake, a friend gave us some delicious triple chocolate brownies. I would have been so distressed if she had cut all of the corners off before delivering them. I would definitely have felt that something was missing! Imagine a road map with all of the corners missing. That map could leave us feeling lost and confused. Personally, I prefer all the corners I can get!

         When I first moved into my home, there was a woman who lived across the street from me. Barbara had two children; a son and a daughter and she was raising them as a single mother. In a horrific act of violence, her husband had been murdered while working the late shift in a convenience store in another state. Barbara moved home to be nearer to her mother in an attempt to give her children a life surrounded by family. I watched, year after year, as this single mother worked tirelessly to make a good life for her children.  I was impressed that Barbara did not cut corners when it came to providing for her family. Sometimes, when my husband was not going to be home for dinner, I used to serve what I called the “Let’s just have a hotdogs or something easy cause your dad isn’t here for dinner dinner”. The implication being that it wasn’t really dinner if dad wasn’t home and we were allowed to cut some corners. Does that make sense to anyone? It did to me at the time. I cut a few corners to make my life a little easier, or so I thought. By the way, those are not the dinners that my sons remember.

         One day as I was visiting with Barbara, I told her that I was impressed that she never seemed to cut corners on meals or during any sort of interaction with her children, knowing that she did not have the luxury of waiting for her husband to return to help with the family responsibilities. She told me something that I have never forgotten. She said that there was a lot of waste in cutting corners and who is to know what wonderful part of the day is lost by cutting if off. What an amazing lesson she taught me that day and it’s one that I cherish even now. The mental image that I carry with me now is one of a jar filled with corners. The corners are all blank, so I have no idea what they represent or what they could have contributed. They are all lost opportunities. Those opportunities are gone forever.

        Isn’t it interesting how a road sign in New Zealand and the memory of a friend from many years ago now merge to remind me of an invaluable life lesson. Cutting corners is in my opinion, not a recipe for success. I would rather have all of those corners included in my life, rather than tossed in a jar somewhere.

       As usual, we are happy and trying to work hard. We are so grateful that we have not been corners that you have cut from your lives. We are also grateful to a loving Heavenly Father and Savior who cut no corners where Their love for us is concerned.  We appreciate the good examples that you have set as you attempt to live full and enriching lives. We know that it is never too late to stop cutting corners and you just never know what you will gain in the process.

         Love, Ward and Susan     Elder and Sister Belliston, serving in Gisborne, New Zealand

Adventures in Paradise Volume 2 #30

Kia ora! Our excellent adventure continues with some thoughts on perspective and how I learned a very valuable lesson this week on what is truly most important. This blog is less about New Zealand in particular than it is about what is meaningful in general. It is a lesson that I have been taught before, but a refresher course seemed to be in order as it appears that I still have much to learn on this subject. It’s also possible that I simply needed a little nudge in the memory department.

Before we arrived in New Zealand, I would often check the weather forecast by way of the internet. While I understood the universal symbols for rain and wind, I was perplexed by the temperature listings. I remember one day in particular, when the current Auckland temperature was announced as 16 degrees.  While I realized that there was a difference between our Fahrenheit and their Celsius, I had no real perspective on what 16 degrees would feel like. It was not until I actually physically experienced 16 degrees that I began to gain perspective on what constitutes a hot day and what would constitute a cold winter one. I learned a little jingle to help in shifting that perspective: 30 is hot, 20 is nice, 10 is cold and zero is ice! A bit of first-hand experience can go a long way in securing a modified perspective.

My perspective came crashing down around me when I read an e-mail from my son Travis last Sunday evening. Ward and I had just arrived home to Gisborne, after having spent a lovely weekend in Auckland and Hamilton. We had been privileged to participate in a conference with one our church’s twelve apostles, Elder Quentin L. Cook. It had been a touching, spiritual visit and that coupled by the fact that we had spent time with friends and young missionaries that we hadn’t seen in a while, we were left feeling peaceful and relaxed. That was, until the moment that I opened a message from my son. It read: “Something really weird is going on here.”

It’s difficult not to panic or have ones imagination run rampant when receiving such a message. Due to the time difference between New Zealand and Utah, my panic rose, and I was afraid that I would not be able to reach my son as it would be the middle of the night in Salt Lake. My discomfort was growing as I considered the possibility that I would have to sleep with my mounting anxiety until morning. I was beside myself and the knot that had been forming in my stomach was becoming more uncomfortable by the minute! I had no information on what sort of situation that word “weird” encompassed. Was something wrong with my son, my family or a friend? Had there been an accident? Knowing that it had been unusually windy, I wondered if something had happened related to the weather. Did that one descriptive word imply something earth-shattering or simply something unusual? My brain pistons were firing way too quickly for comfort and I was beyond frightened.

When I finally reached my son, nothing he said was making me feel any more relaxed. He related, with a photo included, that “something” or things had taken up residence in my home. The physical evidence in the photo was stomach wrenching and I began to envision just what permanent damage might have been done. While I was mulling over the possibilities, Travis mentioned that this situation was not even the weird thing that he had alluded to in his message. When he went to turn on the lights to gain greater perspective into our resident squatters, the lights starting humming, then grew dim and finally he noticed the adapter box connected to the downstairs TV was smoking. Having turned off all power to the house, Travis was waiting for his mother, ten thousand miles away, to assess the situation and make a decision on what to do next! To add to the frustration, it was now early Sunday morning in Utah and we would have to wait until Monday to contact the exterminator as well as an electrician. There was real concern that there was the possibility of a fire or that the house would need to be torn apart to facilitate new wiring. I was frustrated by the time frame as well as the distance and consumed by worry about what damage had and was being done to a home that I loved. I was tearful and feeling like my world as I knew it had come crashing down. There was also the concern about making long distant decisions and a real fear that my bank account, such as it was would be depleted. At that moment, I lost perspective, and could not imagine anything that could be worse than losing that home.

In my prayers that evening, I did have the presence of mind not to ask for a safe house. Rather I prayed for peace and a calm perspective. I was grateful that two people that I trusted would be helping me to solve the problems. Having just prayed for peace and a calm demeanor, I still found myself falling to sleep amid dreams of impending disaster. I was still concerned about the permanent damage that might have been caused by our invading house guests. I worried that either the house would burn down (which would actually have solved the critter problem) or that being in need of rewiring, my home would have to be torn apart. I closed my eyes that evening, accompanied by dreams of what could happen in the worst case.

The next morning upon awaking and becoming fully aware, I was struck by how peaceful I felt. It was not necessarily an everything will be okay with the house feeling, rather it was a distinct answer to the last question of the evening before. I realized that a worst case situation would not involve the loss of my home; rather it would involve the loss of people that I love who had been a part of that house. It would involve the loss of my faith and the loss of my direction. I realized with clarity that I would be able to accept and handle any problem relating to brick and mortar, but I would not be able to accept the loss of those people and principles that are the structure of my life. Putting everything into perspective, I realized that I could weather the loss of a building, but not a loss of those things that my life is built upon.

So, almost as a postscript, I will thank my friend and neighbor Jeannette Flamming for calling the exterminator. Thank you, Jeannette, for handling guests who entered my house uninvited through my dryer vent. Knowing that you are always there caretaking is a huge blessing for me. Thanks to my son, Travis, who turned off all of the power until an electrician could arrive. He had his own set of nightmares concerning his “inheritance” going up in smoke and I am sorry for his lost sleep. I was able to communicate with him instantly during the electricians visit, so we shared a giant sigh of relief when we were collectively informed that squirrels had eaten their way through an external neutral wire, thus causing the internal electrical problems. Thanks to Rocky Mountain Power for coming so quickly to replace that wire. Shakespeare said that alls well that ends well and I will agree with that! Once again, I have been reminded to keep things in perspective. You can’t take it with you, but relationships can last forever.

As always we are happy and trying to work hard. We weren’t given a new perspective, we just need slight readjustments to our old one. We are grateful for the lessons that we have been taught this week and are so thankful that all of you are part of that slightly revamped perspective. We value the relationships that we have with you and should you need a good exterminator or a superb electrician, we would be happy to share our recommendations with you! And instead of our posting photos this week, please picture in your own minds those experiences and people that you value most from your perspective.

Love, Ward and Susan    Elder and Sister Belliston, serving in Gisborne, New Zealand