I sent a few postcards and some emails to people about my trip to Ireland and France. This is my first letter filled with more detail. You won’t hurt my feelings if you don’t have time or inclination to read it all. However, there will be a test later ! J

Briefly, the first week my friend Dani and I spent on a bus going around the Irish Island. The second week we rented a car and went out looking for her family’s historical roots. There’s nothing like looking for dead potato farmers in small villages a century after they left for America. The small churches and historical societies we visited told us to “look on the web”. Well, heck that’s not as exciting as looking at some old crusted over tombstone, but it was fun seeing the area.

This was the first time I’ve been in a foreign country (aside from Canada, which isn’t really foreign) that I was able to ask for directions in the native tongue and people immediately understood me. Even more amazing to me was that, despite the accent, I understood the answer. This has never happened to me before. (!!)

As exciting as that was, the real problem I found wasn’t in understanding the answer. It was in asking the right person the question. When we were lost, many friendly people gave us directions. However, they were often wrong. Later, we would have to stop and ask again. Sometimes I felt that we should ask 4 or 5 different people and then take an average of what we were told.

Side note: This is a lot like people looking for the way back to our Heavenly Home. They ask directions of everyone ~ and many want to help ~ but only a few really know. You have to ask several times before someone can give you an answer that takes you back to Heavenly Father without a wrong turn.

Driving on the left hand side of the road in Ireland is quite an adventure. Here in America, right hand turns are easy. To go straight or turn left, one must stop and wait for traffic to clear. When a cop loses a bad guy he is chasing, the cop will make a right hand turn. Odds are that the bad guy made the same turn because it was easier than crossing traffic to go left.

The opposite is true in countries that drive on the left hand side of the street. The left hand turns are “easy” and right hand turns are “hard”. I was happy to have had a week watching our bus driver before I took the wheel. A second person is essential for reading maps, street signs and giving verbal reminders such as “easy left” or “difficult right”

Make a note of language choice here. If Dani said “hard right”, I could accidentally misinterpret. “Hard right” usually means: Go immediately right – now! “Difficult right” reminded me to wait and watch for cross traffic before venturing forth.

Speaking of language choice… Here in America, we often say those in other lands who drive on the left hand, or opposite side, of the road are “driving on the wrong side”. The Irish don’t drive on the “wrong side”. They say that they drive on the “correct side”. The problem comes from confusing “Right and Left” with “Right and Wrong”.

By saying, “Correct side”, it automatically means that either side is “right” as long as everyone agrees and follows the same pattern. Driving on the “incorrect side” causes problems because it is the “wrong side” for the majority. Having everyone agree on the same rules is what makes systems work.

The problem we are having in our modern day is that we are trying to change Natural and Eternal Rules to our liking just as we change man-made rules. We believe that if the majority agrees, we can do what we want. I heard an expression the other day: “We don’t break the commandments. We break ourselves against them.” Some principles are the way they are. It’s to our benefit to work with them, ~ not against them.

Back to the road….Although I managed the “right /left – correct” issue OK, I still had a wee bit of a problem placing the car on the road. I was in the correct lane OK but, according to Dani, I would often drift to the far left side of my correct lane. This put me up against the scratchy hedgerows along the sides and made Dani dig her fingernails into the car’s upholstery.

I think, I was trying to put my physical body on the left side of the car (?) where it was used to being and taking the car with it. She’d have to remind me to move closer to the center from time to time. With Dani’s help, we did OK. We returned the car without any dings. Whew!

The driving habit carries over in walking too. Oncoming pedestrians wanted to pass me on my right hand side. I wanted to pass them on their left hand side. If I wasn’t watching and thinking too, I’d subconsciously tend to edge nearer and nearer to the right hand side, expecting to pass them on the right. At the same time, with them not thinking either, they were veering to pass me on my right.

Our guide said that today’s traffic patterns developed from the early days of travel when there were robbers about. (And things have changed??) People carried their swords and knives on their left so they could draw them out with their right hand. When meeting someone coming along the trail, it would be easier to defend yourself if your armed right hand was closest to the other person. Therefore, you passed each other right shoulder to right shoulder. . True story? I don’t know. Why only the British Isles?

I read somewhere that supermarkets are designed for the traffic patterns set in our heads. Since American and European drivers tend to make right hand turns more easily, stores are set up with certain products on the right just as you enter. In other countries, where they drive on the left side of the road, (which is “correct” for them), the stores have been designed, and products placed, so turning left is easy. Just a bit of trivia you can check out for yourself sometime. I forget where I read it.

That’s a little (little?) summary of my trip – or at least the Irish part. Beautiful country, friendly people, and great weather ~ what more could someone want? Oh, and the food was good too. J

Story number #1
On our first evening in Ireland, a group of us decided use our free time to see the town. When getting ready to go, Dani discovered that she was missing her purse. Of course she felt sick thinking of her credit card, passport, money etc. She tried to be a good sport. She said that she probably left it on the bus and it was OK. However, we knew she couldn’t enjoy herself if she worried about her purse all night. (And we would worry too)

The driver had recommended a couple of pubs to visit. We thought he might be in one of them. We took a cab into town. In the first pub, we didn’t find the driver but we found a phone book and called the restaurant where we had eaten earlier. No luck. In the second pub there was no sign of him. We began to think that he had recommended these pubs as decoys. Maybe he was in his own favorite pub where he could savor his private time away from us, “the kids”.

Somehow, we decided that if we found the bus, then maybe we’d find the driver too. At the time it seemed reasonable. It was a comforting thought. It would be a lot easier to find a huge tour bus parked somewhere in town than an Irish bus driver lodged on a stool in one of 200 local pubs. A bit impractical perhaps, but that became the mission.

So off we went down the city streets, taking a right here and a left there, looking down alleys and into quirky corners. There were pubs everywhere of course but no bus. At one point, one of us suggested going into a random pub that was close by. I don’t remember why, but we went in. As we’re standing there looking around, ~~ in walks our driver! In all of the pubs in Killarney, he walks into ours. What were the odds?? We jumped him like twitter-pated girls. I demanded, “How are we supposed to find you in case of an emergency?” He said, “You’re not.” Ha ha. Funny guy.

He did say the purse was on the bus and all was well. We were able to relax and enjoy the evening. Dani was able to sleep that night without worry. Heavenly Father was sooo kind!

Story #2
I had a few hours to wait at the Charles De Gaulle airport before I could check in my bag for coming home. I was reading Alma 26 in the Book of Mormon. Ammon is praising God for the great missionary miracles that have happened among previously villainous people.

An African man sat down beside me. I thought, “Should I or shouldn’t I say something about the gospel to him? Here I am reading this great missionary chapter. What good does it do if I don’t apply it to my life?” I decided to say something. As I was talking with him, a man sitting across from me leaned forward and asked, “Are you a Mormon?” I replied that I was. He said he was a Christian. I responded brightly, “So am I!” He re-defined himself as a “Christian Christian”. I said, “So I guess I’m a Mormon Christian?” Right. He informs me that I can’t be saved by the law only (my works). I need to have faith on Jesus Christ.

Now, for the life of me, I don’t understand how a stranger can tell me that I don’t have faith in Jesus Christ. I responded that everything I do is related to my faith in Christ. If I didn’t have faith, I wouldn’t do anything at all. Christ said, “If you love me, keep my commandments.” For me, that takes some work. If I didn’t have faith in Christ, I would just eat, drink, be merry and hope to be saved in the last day only because God is good. Repenting of my mistakes and shortcomings takes work ~ at least for me. He insisted that I was without belief in Christ’s power to save and then he excused himself to catch a plane.

I sat there feeling sour and bummed. I had opened my mouth to share the gospel and I got shut down by someone who had a different perspective on religious beliefs. I’ve been a member of the Church of Jesus Christ for my entire adult life. I’ve been a full time missionary. Why am I so lousy at explaining what I know? I knew it wasn’t my fault that he wasn’t open to listen to anything I had to say or learn anything. His mind was set. I was condemned. I still felt badly. I reminded myself that Ammon hadn’t experienced instant success either. At least, unlike Ammon, I hadn’t been hung upside down in a prison for a few months first.

Feeling discouraged and disappointed, I went to check in my bag. The line was long. People snaked through the Disneyland-like ropes and spilled into the rest of the airport. As I moved up closer to the front of the line, I noticed a small, very frail, elderly lady at the ticket counter.

She had two huge suitcases on a luggage cart. Each must have outweighed her by twice her own weight. She was struggling to get them off the cart and onto the conveyor belt. The cart only rolled toward her when ever she tugged a bag. I watched her a bit and noticed that no one else was doing anything. The lady behind the counter just sat there staring into space waiting for the bags. The people at the other counters were occupied with their own affairs. The nearby security guard didn’t move. The people in line stood in their proper places behind the rope.

I ducked under the rope and went to help. I told the tiny old lady to stand away as I yanked both bags off the cart and got them onto the conveyor. She was grateful and relieved. The people watching, back in the line, had circled my bags in a protective manner. That was nice. I felt good.

It was a direct blessing from Heavenly Father. He gave me that opportunity to do a “good work” when I was feeling down. To let me know that good works are needed and necessary in this world. It made me feel better. It helped someone else. It was an example to others that they can step out from behind a line and help someone if it is needed. If someone doesn’t believe that I have faith in Christ that’s fine. I am still going to do works because it’s the right thing to do.

Last weekend was General Conference for the Church. I was just home and enjoying the down time. One of the last speakers on the Saturday session was Jeffery Holland. He gave a passionate speech about people in the world who don’t understand Christianity and how we live it. He said everything that I wished I could have explained to the man at the airport. That speech was inspired for me personally.

I don’t often say that about Conference Talks but this directly related to my recent experience that was still so fresh in my mind. I give Heavenly Father credit for this witness. He does love me and care about me. He appreciates the things that I try to do. No, I’m not perfect and no, I’m not going to “earn” my way back to my Father’s presence. However, I do need to do what He says needs to be done i.e. have faith on His son Jesus Christ, repent of my sins, be baptized by water, and receive the Holy Ghost from those who have the authority to hold the Holy Priesthood of God. The rest is “doing unto others”. That’s about it. Yes, its work, but I love it.