Claire is being transferred to a suburb in the NE corner of Berlin, which used to be East Germany before the wall came down. The news took her by surprise, as she thought she would be staying another transfer, which is likely why she sounds so sad about leaving Hamburg.
Wretchedly Wrenched
After a mere six weeks in lovely Hamburg, I
received a call on Saturday that it was time to pack my bags and prepare to go
to Berlin. Marzahn to be specific. I may or may not have yelled at the poor
missionary who was the bearer of this news because honestly, I was not thrilled
about leaving. Honestly, I am still not thrilled about leaving so soon. Because
I just stinkin´got here and the first couple of weeks were a bit rough but we
are really starting to see some of the fruits of our labors and it just made my
heart cry a little bit when Elder Hansen said I was getting transferred and had
to leave my little flock of people after just six weeks and not to mention my
companion who I didn't get to finish training. End of super long run-on
sentence. So after yelling at poor Elder Hansen and then apologizing and then
running round screaming for seven minutes, I came to grips with the decision
and started those hard phone calls where you tell people you're leaving in two
days and no, you can't use facebook yet to keep in touch and no, you can`t call
or come back and visit unless you get called back. I'm holding out hope that I
will come back. Transfer calls? Closest thing to real world drama that
missionaries experience.
So I am going to Marzahn and my new
companion is Sister Krizer (spelling?). Also I'll be a sister training leader
there, which basically means I go to leadership meetings and go on tausches (exchanges) every week with other sisters in
our area and other leaderly-type stuff. Whatever that means. I guess I will
soon find out.
Goodbyes...
Frau Boschmann cried when we went
over to say goodbye. Oskar offered to accompany us to the Hauptbahnhof (train station) tomorrow morning. And I will
miss my dear Russians. Rita flipped out a little bit and asked if I'd be here
for her baptism (not sure L). Frau
Frommhagen is terrified of people but is taking public transportation anyways
to come and say goodbye tonight, and we had just finally became "sisters"
instead of "weibliche elders" (female
elders). I liked being a
weibliche elder. Usually it takes a while for me for me really love people and
for them to perhaps tolerate me. But I was blessed to very quickly fall in love
with the people and places here. Which is great, except I'm leaving. Apparently
I am needed elsewhere. Even if it was just for six weeks, I do feel incredibly
blessed to have been allowed to serve here and am grateful for this time. I may
or may not have started crying when saying goodbye to Bishop Sievers (the leader of the ward in Hamburg). Fortunately someone pulled him away before I started
bawling in gratitude for his service to others.
Das Wunder der Woche
Let`s go back before transfer calls
when lots of good things happen. Like Sebastian, for instance—the first actual average
German we met who wants to meet with us. There goes a saying in the missionary
world that for the most part (though not always), missionaries don't find
normal people, only members do. That's why members make good missionaries. But
we're grateful for the exception this week of Sebastian, who we met knocking on
doors, which we usually never do because it’s not super effective. But he was
really interested even though he is atheist and asked us to come back and
though I won't be able to go back now....Sister Schwantes can! The work will go
forward.
On the Wrong Path
Sister Schwantes was a little
worried about me leaving because she wasn't sure how strong her connection is
with the people we've been teaching. But an encounter with a sweet drunk lady
assuaged all her fears when she called over to us to come and talk to her as we
were walking by. In broken and slurred English and German, she started telling
Sister Schwantes that she was doing a lot of good here. She told her that she
could see peoples' souls and that Sister Schwantes has the soul of an angel.
Then she pointed at me and said, "This one, this one has wandered. She is
not like you. She has some bad in her and is on the wrong path. You need to
help her. That is your job. Help her." I started to give a soft rebuttal
when she said that I was just like her and did my fair share of drinking and
partying. I quickly realized arguing with a drunk is never a good idea and then
I simply found it hilarious and tried not to laugh. I should probably give up
my wicked ways J. Her
most insightful question that made me evaluate my behavior?
"How old are you?"
"20."
"How old were you three years
ago?"
"17"
Turning to my companion, she said,
"Exactly! You see what I mean?!?"
Whatever that means.
Well, you'll hear how Berlin is
next week. I know that God sends us where we need to be and I’m thankful for opportunities
to serve wherever I am called. Send letters to the mission office. Send
prayers to heaven.
Sister Claire
Michelle Woodward
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