Adventures in Paradise Volume 2 #59

Kia ora! Our excellent adventure continues with some thoughts on the power found in one person’s actions.  There is a beautifully pristine beach on the south island of New Zealand. For many years the Abel Tasman Beach was privately owned by a wealthy Kiwi family. The family, knowing what a treasure this was to the South Islanders, allowed the public complete access, provided the area was treated respectfully. One day, several months ago, word reached the residents that the beach was to be sold and that the most likely buyer was a private land development company. The as yet unnamed organization hinted that this playground would no longer be open to the public and in fact, might be in line for some sort of holiday destination development.

Duane Major, a young and unassuming “tree-hugger” was stunned by the announcement. He realized that once private development took possession, the beach would change and so would any opportunity for the ordinary person to enjoy all that it had to offer. Duane off-handedly joked to his brother-in-law, Adam Gard’ner, that to avoid the looming disaster, maybe they should buy the beach! Their outlandish plan would include a grass roots campaign to solicit donations from other Kiwis who felt the same way about the beach as they did. The idea was to suggest that individuals could make a difference by donating any amount of money that they were able. There would be no contribution that would be too small to be helpful and if New Zealanders, one person at a time, could contribute, there just might be a way to preserve the land for the future. As the idea took shape, the two men assured the donors that if successful, their plan was to deed the beach to the Nation Park system as part of a land trust agreement, thus providing permanent access to all future visitors.

How crazy was it to think that one man, with no previous fundraising experience could, by relying on others, one person at a time and one contribution at a time, create enough public interest to compete with a corporate giant having deep pockets? How indeed? The first efforts of the two young men were somewhat comical and often tongue-in-cheek as their initial publicity offerings were stick figures drawn with markers on salvaged cardboard. The stick figure spokesmen caught on and suddenly the pledges started rolling in. Duane said that he was almost the most surprised of anyone as the campaign seemed to take on a life of its own. Finally, and in the eleventh hour, an unnamed donor came to the rescue and pledged the remaining funds that were needed and an offer was tendered to the family.

Last Tuesday morning, as the whole country turned on the news, we saw two young men in t-shirts waiting nervously to hear the decision of the family concerning the offers that had been broached. Each man’s shirt bore a silk- screen-printed photo of the Abel Tasman Beach and each of their two faces registered the stress of waiting for an answer. At eight-thirty sharp, the newsroom exploded with the decision. Duane and Adam had bought a beach! By evening, almost every front-page in New Zealand showed two grinning young men in t-shirts looking out of photos that carried the caption, “ We Bought a Beach!” In all of the ensuing interviews, mention was made continuously of the difference that one person can make and the effect that it can have on so many others.

As I have thought about the events of this week concerning the beach, I have found myself focusing on all of the people who have made a difference in my life, one person at a time and I am beyond grateful.  I only had one mother and I am so grateful for her love and unfaltering support. I only had one father and I will never underestimate the role that he played in my life. My parents were not rich or famous; far from it, but the influence they had in my life was proof of the power of one. In a particularly difficult phase of my life a decade or so ago, I found myself buoyed up by one person at a time who would leave a note or a card of encouragement and love in my mailbox. For three years, I taped those notes to the inside of a cupboard. Every time that I opened that door, I felt a rush of love and support from those thoughtful messages. Those who thought of me at that time, may have wondered if one note from one person could possibly make a difference in my life and I am here to say that it made a bigger difference that anyone could imagine. There were days when that one note saved me and I cannot express how grateful I am to this day for that thoughtfulness. My spirits were lifted by one person at a time and it made a difference.

Ward could tell much the same sort of story. When his wife, Judy was so ill, he and his family were supported and loved often by one person at a time and they still speak fondly of those who were so thoughtful and supportive. I am certain that many of those friends and family who dropped by for a visit or who may have left a meal, a hug, a card or a treat did not fully appreciate how much it meant to the Bellistons to have been remembered. Long after the suffering has subsided, the memory of a single kind gesture lingers on. It is again, the power of one. 

So, since most of us will not be purchasing any beaches in the near future, we will have to be content with appreciating the good that we can do for others as we remember that one person can make a big difference. One smile may save the day for someone. A phone call could come at the exact perfect moment. If those latest cookies you baked are not perfect share them with someone anyway. Often it truly is the thought that counts and long after the receiver forgets that the treat wasn’t perfect, they will remember that you were perfectly thoughtful. And we all being who we are, will make a difference for someone else, I promise!

As always, we are happy and trying to work hard. We so appreciate all of you and the individual differences you have made in our lives. We have learned so much from you and have been the recipients of  much thoughtfulness over the years. If any of you cannot imagine where you have made a difference, we would be more than happy to share our thoughts with you. Just ask.

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

Beautiful Abel Tasman Beach

Duane (left) and Adam celebrating on "Their" beach.

Adventures in Paradise Volume 2 #58

Kia ora!  Our excellent adventure continues with news of a milestone birthday and how it was celebrated. In truth, this is really not a blog so much as it is two photos with a few names attached. Due to weekend plans, there is no time for my usual writings, so this is a very condensed version of our weekly message. We are excited to be leaving for Hamilton tomorrow morning to be with our little Cook Island family as one of the boys turns twelve on Sunday. Usharn will celebrate his birthday Sunday by being ordained to the priesthood and he has asked us to attend and has invited Ward to participate in that ordinance as his extra grandpa. After church, we are looking forward to a family dinner and chances to hug our favorite Kiwi kiddos.

But I digress. Ward turned seventy-five (!) last Tuesday. We all find that number a bit difficult to fathom and I always think of him as perennially going on fifteen. But his birthday arrived and with it a very sweet two days. Of course while the calendar in New Zealand said that it was his birthday one day, the fact that in Utah that date arrived a day later, gave us an opportunity for double celebrations. He was king of the house for two days and was touched by all of the birthday wishes he received from both countries.

By far, the biggest and most touching surprise of the day came Tuesday morning after our weekly district meeting with the young elders and sisters. I mentioned to them the week before that it was Elder Belliston’s birthday and asked if they could plan something special. That something special brought tears to Ward’s eyes, as the group entered the room singing Happy Birthday. The candles indicated the correct age and there was a sparkley banner and two kinds of ice cream. We thought that you might enjoy seeing how and with whom Ward celebrated a milestone that he had dreaded. It turned out that it was a day that he would not have missed for the world.

As always we are happy and trying to work hard. We have appreciated the thoughtfulness of being remembered on a special day and hope that we can return the favor. We miss you all, but for the moment, we are relishing the last few weeks of our great Kiwi adventure.

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

Ward had a lovely morning celebrating with a few of his favorite young people. Several countries are represented here: Tonga, Philippines, Taiwan, Australia, Sweden, Samoa, and America

Elder Pierce from Rexburg, Idaho is one of the tallest missionaries in our mission. Sister Boligar, from the Philippines is the very shortest. We are a study in diversity and we love it!

Adventures in Paradise Volume 2 #57

Kia ora! Our excellent adventure continues with news of a garden party. Last week, as I sat in the shade of Fejoa trees, and listened to the banter that surrounded me, I was reminded of a song by Ricky Nelson. The opening line of his 1972 hit tells of a garden party that he attended where he reminisced with his old friends. In truth, Ricky’s garden party took place at Madison Square Garden in New York, thousands of miles away from our little island. But that song kept looping through my memory as I enjoyed the lazy afternoon, the cool shade and reminiscing with my new friends.

Although we travel extensively as part of our mission duties, our assignment as prescribed by our mission president, is to minister to the members of the Manutuke branch. That little branch, encompasses several tiny villages, including, Muriwai, Manutuke and Patutahi, and we are thrilled if thirty people happen to arrive for Sunday services! You may then imagine that we were equally thrilled when over two-thirds of our little branch attended the BBQ at the home of the Browns. I thought that you might enjoy, if only from a distance, the sights and sounds of our little gathering. We would like you to meet some of the members of the Manutuke branch

Our garden party is better known here as a BBQ. Unlike the hamburger, hot dog and potato salad menus at home, there are grilled sausages served on buttered bread, cabbage salad and lots of fresh fruit. At home, we would suggest a pot luck party; here you are told to "bring a plate."  By the way, Joseph Stevens is wearing the white ball cap and he was baptized the next week. 

This is my favorite photo of the day. Samantha (who is blind) is enjoying a laugh with Ross Honey. Ross is the only non-Maori in our little branch. An interesting side note is that Samantha does not shop for clothing. As a sister missionary is leaving for home, I ask if she has any clothes that she would like to leave behind. I take those to Samantha and we put together outfits for her. She is wearing one of those outfits in this photo!

This is Samatha's son, Jimmi. I keep telling her how beautiful he is and she always replies that she already knows.

As we waited for dinner, the young Elders presented a short message. I forgot to mention that there is always an abundance of fresh fish dishes available as well.

Jenine Brown and her daughter, Ihipera are enjoying a happy moment together. They are the wife and daughter of the branch president.

Jack and his father, Mefe, were waiting patiently for the sausages. Their last name is Whaitiri. In Maori a "wh" combination is pronounced as an F sound and an R sounds like a D. I have spent 18 months totally confused and afraid to address people by their names!

This is Caleb West. He and his wife, Libby just announced that their first baby is due in the fall. The man in the green shirt in the background is our branch president and this is his garden.

And here are two more members of the West family. Mark West works in forestry and his crews  are part of those charged with planting and maintaining the timber crop. If you promise not to tell, Mark's son Eru is close to being engaged, so please keep that secret.. Also try and guess how to pronounce his name.

 Samantha shares a laugh with a new friend that she met at the garden party.

As many of you are no doubt aware, Ricky Nelson did not enjoy his time at the garden in 1972 and vowed never to return.   His disappointment over the negative response he received gave him the inspiration for his song, so at least one positive thing resulted from that experience. I have been humming the last line of that song for about a week and although it has remained a continuous recording in my head, I would suggest that Ricky was only partially correct in his sentiments.  “It’s all right now and I’ve learned my lesson well. You can’t please everyone so you might as well please yourself.”  While I know it’s not possible to please everyone, the lesson we have learned  is there is often great joy in joy in the trying. Pleasing someone else is one way to make ourselves a little happier as well.

Our little garden party was far more successful for those who attended than was the far more famous one held over forty years ago. Ricky would choose never to return, but we would do it a again in a microsecond. We will cherish  reminiscing with people who will become our old friends and although there was no song born as a byproduct of this event, there was a blog created that allowed you have the opportunity to meet our friends and acquire a small sense of our experiences here. Perhaps I should blog in reverse, and leave our New Zealand friends with the opportunity to meet our friends at home!

As always  we are happy and trying to work hard. Along with our over- sized luggage, we will be returning home with larger than life memories. We have now entered that time of a mission where we have one foot in one life and one foot in the other. As much as we look forward to gathering in gardens at home, we will always be aware that others are gathering without us here in our other home. Yet, we are grateful for the memories that please us and for the gift of reminiscing.

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

Adventures in Paradise Volume 2 #56

Kia ora! Our excellent adventure continues with thoughts on how Cyclone Pam, which decimated Vanuatu almost a year ago, could have such far-reaching effects that it would be possible last week to change the lives and schedules of hundreds of people living in New Zealand. We have been reminded in the last few days, again, just how connected we all are on our little planet.

Ward had just finished printing the baptismal programs for Joseph Stevens, when the phone rang. Joseph had traveled a very rocky road to his decision to be baptized and we were putting the last pieces in place for his Saturday service and we were anxious that all would go well. In addition to Josephs baptism, the Elders and Sisters in our zone had just finished printing their programs for the three people who also had baptismal dates for Saturday. That one phone call changed everything and threw two missions into a state of emergency.

Our mission office informed us that Elder D. Todd Christofferson, who is a member of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, would be speaking at a combined mission conference in Auckland on Saturday and we all were expected to be in attendance. Elders Christofferson’s arrival was a surprise to everyone, including two mission presidents! Now, Gisborne is at least seven hours away from Auckland and we were told that we would all stay Friday evening in Hamilton, in preparation for arrivial in Auckland the next morning. This meant that there was no possibility of our holding the baptism Saturday evening as planned. As the voice on the other end of the line began giving instructions, I heard myself informing him that since we had an important baptism, we couldn’t possibly make the trip with the others. I mentioned also that three other people in Gisborne would be affected as well and we just couldn’t change our plans at the last moment. The caller was sympathetic and assured me that there would be a way that everything could be accomplished and he would be happy to see us in Auckland on Saturday.

As it so happened, Joseph was at our home when the call came in, but I was in tears as I now realized that once again, there were going to be delays and changes regarding his baptism and I was going to have to be the one to share that news. I took a deep breath, said a very quick, but heart-felt prayer and left the office. By the time I reached the livingroom I had the answer. I explained the situation to Ward and Joseph and suggested that a Sunday morning baptism would be a very spiritual experience. Joseph’s face lit up and he loved the idea! Sunday morning baptisms are generally very calm and spiritual. His confirmation would follow immediately in Sacrament meeting and the spirit that was created as he was baptized would carry over into the other meetings of the day. It was the perfect solution. The Elders were able to reschedule easily, and the Sisters gave up part of the preparation day so that their person could be baptized Monday morning. So, it turned out the our baptisms were the icing on the cake of a week that was begun when approximately five hundred missionaries met, took council from and shook hands with a General Authority.

In regards to Elder Christofferson, we found him warm and charming. His counsel was taken to heart and we all felt very fortunate to be in attendance. As to the reason for his impromptu arrival, we learned that he and his wife had been traveling in the South Pacific and their last stop was to be Vanuatu. When it was discovered that their plane was too large to land on a runway still in need of repair from the ravages of cyclone Pam, Elder Christofferson turned to those with whom he was traveling and asked, “So where shall we go instead?” And as they say, the rest is history.  Many of us in attendance realized what a blessing the members in Vanuatu had missed, but couldn’t help feeling grateful that a last-minute change of plans became such a spiritual experience for us. It was a truly remarkable opportunity as all of us were each able to shake an Apostle’s hand and be thanked personally for our service.

To quote a phrase from Shakespeare, “All’s well that ends well.” That is exactly how we felt last week.  I will admit to having a moment or two of feeling like we just couldn’t do all that was expected, only to find that a calm head, coupled with a little inspiration can solve most dilemmas. It was a lovely week and we are so glad to be able to have participated.

As always, we are happy and trying to work hard. Our time here is fast coming to an end and we are wondering if we are ready to leave. Since we have no choice, we can remember to focus on the events of the past sixteen months and be grateful while at the same time look forward to sweet reunions with family and friends at home. It truly will all end well and we are grateful.

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

The New Zealand Auckland mission and the New Zealand Hamilton enjoyed a special morning with Elder Christofferson. If you look closely, you will see me sitting in front of the wall on the left, next to the door. Ward and I were ushers for the event.

This is Joseph Stevens. He had always gone by the nickname of Horby, but insisted that he be called Joseph after he learned about Joseph Smith. He was excited to have the same initials.

This photo was taken Sunday morning, just before Joseph's baptism. The rain stopped just long enough for us to pose in front of the chapel.

Adventures in Paradise Volume 2 #55

Kia ora! Our excellent adventure continues with some thoughts on the connection between fish and pumpkin pies and the lessons one can learn from drawing such a parallel.  If you cannot possibly imagine how those two seemingly unrelated items can weave themselves into this blog, please read on so that I can share with you the tender moments of an interaction that took place last week in my kitchen.

While it is no secret that Americans love Pumpkin pie, it may surprise you to learn that most Kiwis cannot fathom such a thing. Why take a perfectly good pumpkin, which would make an excellent roasted addition to any meal, and turn it in to something sweet that would be served as a dessert? Why indeed? And then, why take perfectly good cream, which should be poured directly over a pudding, and whip and sweeten it before using it as a garnish? According to many New Zealanders, Americans are weird, if not just plain crazy!

I have spent the better part of a year trying to convert people to pumpkin pie. While it is not possible to buy canned processed pumpkin locally, there is a store in Auckland that caters to Americans and Libby’s pumpkin is always in stock. Beginning in November, I made many pumpkin pies to share with both our American missionaries as well as anyone else who would be willing to try a taste. There have been rave reviews from the Yanks and some questionable looks from some others. One Maori friend refused even a nibble as he just couldn’t wrap his mind or tastebuds around the idea of a savory food being turned into something sweet! Some intrepid souls have tasted and have even been converted and it is that conversion that becomes the focus of this blog.

Blake, along with his mother and sister were baptized about six months ago. They are excited about the changes taking place in their lives, and Blake, in particular has developed a zest for learning. Although that learning is largely Gospel-based, our young friend has seen whole new worlds open up to him in more areas that he could ever have imagined and he is avidly and excitedly exploring his new frontiers. Blake’s family was the recipient of one of my pies. One of our young missionaries had requested a pie for  Thanksgiving, so I made him one and was touched that he and his companion chose to share the treat with Blake and his family. We were told that little family, so unfamiliar with American food, embraced that pie whole-heartedly and we were thrilled. Having an extra can of pumpkin in our pantry, we gave it to the Elders to pass along to our friends.

Two weeks ago, Blake asked if I could possibly take the time to teach him the art and secrets of pie baking and I replied that it would be my extreme pleasure to spend some one-on-one time with him. Last Tuesday, Blake arrived, grasping the can of pumpkin in one hand and a notebook in the other. Every instructor dreams of having a student who is anxious to learn and take notes and I felt like I had hit the teaching jackpot. Blake was ready to learn and I was thrilled to be his teacher. As we sat at the kitchen table, Blake thanked me again for taking the time to demonstrate and I off-handedly replied that this way was so much better that just giving him a fish. Blake’s face screwed up into a very quizzical expression and I realized that we were about to have a teaching moment that neither of us had anticipated. I shared with Blake that there was an old saying that taught a very valuable lesson and the message was timeless. I explained that if you give a man a fish, you feed him for a day, but if you teach the man to fish, he learns to feed himself for a lifetime. Blake’s face lit up and I could see that he had a firm grasp on that old adage. “So”, he responded, “if you make a pie for me, you feed me once, but if I learn to make the pie myself, I can make them for a lifetime!”  Yes, Blake, you understand one of the greatest rules for living a healthy and happy life. It is good to learn for yourself!

I spent the next while talking about properties of good pastry and how to achieve a flaky crust and Blake watched intently as I demonstrated. He was furiously taking down almost every word that I uttered and I could help but think back to my classroom days, when I could only have hoped for the rapt attention I was now receiving. Finally, it was Blake’s turn to put his lesson into practice, so I left the room and told him to call if he needed my help. I knew that without me peering over his shoulder, this focused young man would find his way through his first pie shell and by doing it himself, he would remember. I was not surprised when called me back into the kitchen, where I found a perfectly-formed pie crust waiting on the counter to be filled with the pumpkin mixture he had whipped up by exactly following the directions on the Libby’s label.

As the pie baked, we talked more about how important it is to be self-reliant and just how much more pleasure he will derive from the pie, knowing that he made it himself. He smiled and asked me please not to be insulted if he said that now, every time he thinks of fish, he will think of me. There is a compliment in that statement for me and a lifetime learning experience for him. Now I don’t think that I will ever think of fish without thinking about the lovely afternoon that I spent in a kitchen half-way around the world with a young man who will put the lessons he is learning into practice. He is truly remarkable and I can’t wait to meet the man he will become. Sometime later that afternoon, Blake took home his perfect pumpkin pie nestled in my gift of a new pie tin. He mastered the art of whipping cream and I instructed him on how to contact the American store to purchase more pumpkin. Blake did not stop grinning that day and he couldn’t wait to present his pie to his mother, sister and baby brother. It was a perfect afternoon.

As always, we are happy and trying to work hard. Life is full of lessons and we can never anticipate when an off-hand remark might lead to a valuable learning and sharing experience. Although I won’t think of many of you when a fish comes to mind, memories of other learning experiences are triggered as I recall, fondly our interactions. Thank you for the life lessons that you have taught, often without ever being aware that someone was watching and learning. I was watching and I have learned so much by the examples that you have set. Thank you!

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

       

Blake listens intently as I explain the finer points of making flaky pastry. 

I love the look on his face.

The pie and it's happy maker

A perfect first-try pumpkin pie!

Adventures in Paradise Volume #54

Kia ora! Our excellent adventure continues as we combine the name of a favorite Disney attraction with a modified version of the title of an old comedic movie. “It’s a Small, Small,Small, Small World” aptly describes our experience of last Sunday and we are left amazed and smiling at the events that unfolded here in Gisborne a week ago. In a rapidly shrinking environment, we were once again reminded of just how small the world really has become and we have been delighted by that reminder.

Life was hectic last week and there literally, was no time for a blog.  In retrospect, that over-scheduled week is exactly what caused us to be in the exact right place at the exact right time last Sunday and we are thrilled with the results. We were caught up in the cosmic timing of things and we couldn’t have planned it any better if we had tried.

Three weeks ago, as we were attending meetings in a small village an hours drive from our home, we learned that a cruise ship would be docking in Gisborne on January 17^th. One hundred and thirty passengers, most of them Latter-Day-Saints, would be disembarking so that they could participate in a special church service and cultural experience. The congregation of the Nuhaka ward had invited these travelers to attend church services with them. In addition, the village had invited them to participate in a hangi (underground oven cooked meal) and as a special treat, the guests were invited to visit with them at the local Marae, where the meaning of the stunning carvings would be explained and local customs and culture would be shared. This sort of experience is very uncommon among visitors to New Zealand as the closest one usually gets to a Marae would be in a reenactment village especially created for tourists. Unfortunately for us, we had other obligations on that Sunday, so we knew that we would be unable to participate in the activities and we were disappointed, to say the least.

Due to the timing of our Sunday schedule and our disappointment over missing the adventure, another idea was formulated. We decided that if we could not spend the day with the travelers, we could at least meet them at the dock and welcome them to our beautiful city. Although we did not know whom we were looking for, our badges would be recognizable and we assumed that those little black plastic name tags would draw attention, which is exactly what they did! As we stood on the dock, next to the transports that had been hired for the occasion, passengers noticing our badges waved and shouted greetings to us. We waved in return and positioned ourselves so that we would be able to personally greet everyone as they were loaded onto the coaches.

It might be of interest here, to note that Ward and I have a standing wager. The Belliston family is so large that it is not at all unusual for us to meet someone, no matter where we are in the world, who knows one of them.  The premise of the bet is that regardless of where we might happen to be, it will be less than ten minutes before Ward makes a connection with someone. This has happened countless times in airports, restaurants, exotic locations and gatherings of any kind, so as I stood on the dock in far away Gisborne, New Zealand, I knew sooner or later that once again, a stranger, seeing the badge, would approach Ward and ask the question that we always expect;  “Excuse me, but are you related to……..?”  What I could not have expected was that morning would hold a few surprises for me as well.

In just under a minute after positioning ourselves near the coaches, the expected happened. A man approached Ward and asked if he was related to Pete Belliston! Arnie Garr was a a friend of Ward’s brother, Pete, and had been since childhood. He introduced us to his wife, Cherie and we had a pleasant little chat before they boarded their bus. As they disappeared inside, we wished them a lovely day and shared with them that they were in for a treat. Ward and I looked at each other and smiled as neither one of us were surprised by the encounter. Rather, the surprise always involved exactly whom we would meet, not if we would meet. Standing there, I suddenly became aware that a familiar face was staring at me! She was not staring at Ward, this woman knew me!

To my utter delight, I recognized a colleague from my teaching days at Bountiful High School. Barbara and I had served together on several committees and had retired the same year. Sadly, when we were in the Cook Islands, I received word that Barbara was very ill and was facing an uphill battle for recovery. But there Barbara was looking healthy and happy and greeting me with outstretched arms! After hugging and a whispered assurance that she was well, I turned to her husband and reminded him that in my former life as Susan Norgaard, I had grown up in Bountiful just three houses away from him! Having heard that exchange, the man behind Barbara and Lynn Porter spoke up and said , “Well, if you remember him, do you remember that you and I were also classmates at Bountiful High?” Peering closely into a face that I had not seen for almost fifty years, I greeted Bert Winegar, who was also waiting to board the bus! As the last stragglers arrived, I had one last touching encounter. Recognizing the name on the tag as the brother of someone who used to visit my home in high school, I had a chance to reconnect with a member of the Flack family. I was able to offer my condolences on the passing of a brother and to tell Eric Flack how much I still enjoyed using a cookbook, “Wheat For Man, Why and How” written by his mother, Dora Flack. As we waved to our departing visitors, Ward and I remarked on what a sweet morning we had just experienced and we were so happy once again for the gift of perfect timing.

Today, we again found ourselves in Nuhaka, this time as the Sacrament Meeting speakers. During the course of our visit, we heard touching stories of just how taken the travelers were with their experiences in that little village. They were grateful for the thoughtfulness and hospitality extended to them and many remarked that this little community carried a remarkable spirit within its confines. It had been an experience of a lifetime and they were grateful. It was said that the group left with a much keener appreciation and understanding of the Maori culture.

As always, we are happy and trying to work hard. We have learned that in order to better understand a person, it is so helpful to experience and appreciate that person’s culture. That is what we try to do every day and what our friends from the cruise ship experienced last Sunday. We want you to know that we have learned to appreciate you for who you are and what you represent. We have adopted customs, recipes, stories and more ideas than we care to admit from you. We do this because we know that your ways have made a difference in our small world and we would like to do the same.

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

Last Sunday's view of the cruise ship from shore. The statue in the foreground depicts the first sighting of the harbor by young Nick, the twelve-year old son of the Endeavor's doctor.

The Nuhaka chapel

This is the Nuhaka marae. Before the current chapel was built, this was the meeting place for the LDS congregation. When they moved into their new edifice, the church deeded the marae to the community. Each intricate carving has it's own special meaning. The beautiful door mantel was carved by an Elder Fairbanks who served in the area. Elder Fairbanks was a nephew to the well-known sculptor, Avard Fairbanks. 

 If you look closely, you can see the ship as it leaves Gisborne headed for Tauranga. The island you see can be accessed by foot during low tide, but you must remember to plan your return  according to the tide schedule or be a very good swimmer!

Adventures in Paradise Volume 2 #53

Kia ora! Our excellent adventure continues with some thoughts concerning a phrase that I recall hearing my grandmother voice on many occasions. When my grandma Martin found herself in some sort of tizzy, she would often exclaim that she didn’t know whether she was coming or going. That phrase always personified to me a state of unease or unrest. I had visions of her running around without direction wringing overworked hands while nursing and equally overburdened brain.

As our time in New Zealand grows shorter, Ward and I are experiencing much the same angst as did my frenzied grandmother. We cannot properly define whether we are coming or if we are going and that dilemma is beginning to weigh heavily on our minds and hearts. In fifteen weeks, we will be wondering if we are coming home or if we are going to be leaving home. Is it possible to be doing both? Such is the state in which we find ourselves as we yearn to see the faces of those we have been missing, while at the same time begin to imagine goodbyes from the faces we know we will long for almost immediately after sharing one last hug.

We are coming to the conclusion that returning home is going to be difficult. When leaving Utah for New Zealand, we knew that we would one day be issued a release and in the first difficult days of our stay here, we avidly looked forward to that day eighteen months into our future. What we should have recalled from our experience in the Cooks is that that release day comes much more quickly than we could have imagined and in the blink of an eye, we are expected to pack up our experiences and friendships and vacate a land that we have learned to love.

It’s not that we don’t know whether we are coming or going; rather, it is simply the fact that in our case, “coming” means “going” and we are beginning to feel our hearts breaking. We are coming to the end of our time with the Tomatia family and we know that we are not going to see two darling boys grow up in person. Samantha and Jason have been diligent in their missionary efforts and we can credit them directly for helping in the conversion of two people (possibly a third!) and we are going to miss them dearly. Samantha is totally blind, but she has taught me how to appreciate and view the world much differently that I once did. I am coming to anticipate just how much I am going to miss Sam and her little family

We are going home, but happily realize that some of the missionaries that have become our adopted children will be coming back to homes and schools near us. We look forward to continued relationships with the dedicated, directed and spiritual young people that they have become. We are also coming to appreciate just how easy it is to stay in touch and in the near future we are going to be very grateful for both the miracle of the internet and the ability to travel easily. We have already promised those attending BYU Hawaii that one day soon we will be in the audience of the island show at the PCC. Ward has indicated that a trip to Tonga to visit a sister is a must and tomorrow, as we bid farewell to our cute sister from Eastern Europe, we will be reminding her that we will see her in the Czech Republic before the end of the year. The hard edges of the reality of our going home are softened as we formulate travel plans that will find us again sharing company with some of our favorite young people.

An interesting byproduct of our going is that we are finding ourselves in high demand as speakers. As others are coming to realize that we are not going to be here much longer our stock has gone sky high. The little branch to which we were initially assigned has not seen us for the past three Sundays and we now must inform them that we may not be in attendance again until sometime in February! To clarify; it is not to say that we are not working with and visiting the residents of our little community, it simply means that we have no opportunity to interact with them on Sundays. I have had to laugh as I consider how popular we feel and how wonderful it would have been to have had this many invitations when I was a young woman hoping for a date! This morning for example, found us traveling two hours up the beautiful New Zealand coastline, so that we could participate in a special fireside. Unlike the young missionaries, who are restricted to a certain defined area in their mission zone, we have the opportunity to travel widely and we have found it a wonderful experience. Our goings have allowed us to come into the company of many lovely people and we look forward to staying in touch with them in the future.

So, as always, we are happy and trying to work hard. Our comings and goings are much more frenzied than they were when we first arrived and that is to be expected. Part of our stress simply comes from the fact that we can almost hear the clock ticking and time is passing much too quickly.  In a much earlier blog, I referenced a Jim Croce song entitled, “Time in a Bottle” and those lyrics play over and over in my mind as I wish that somehow I could actually preserve a little time so that I could uncork the container in moments when the days seem to be moving much too quickly. Having wished that, I am also more than anxious to come home to friends and family that we have dearly missed. Please know that you are almost constantly on our minds as we view a calendar whose days keep slipping away. My grandmother never did figure out whether she was coming or going and we can’t either.

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

Coming and going up the coast this morning, we were treated to this view. Ahh, New Zealand!