Pay the Price

Elder Hirschi, a former office elder, is the new zone leader in Santo Domingo, a zone which is halfway between Quito and the west coast. He is a former football player for Northridge High School in northern Davis County, where I live. He and his companion, Elder Monge, have decided to challenge their zone to greater heights than the new standards President Sloan has just announced mission-wide. I think I detect Elder Hirschi’s hand in their motto, “Pay the Price.” I heard missionaries in his zone repeating the motto in our zone conference last week. I think it is resonating with them.

Elder Hirschi pays the price. As soon as he was transferred from the office and arrived in Santo Domingo, he had an allergic reaction to something--probably something in the air. His face swelled up, his lips cracked and bled, and his eyes swelled shut. He showed me a picture on his camera (I wish I had gotten a copy) and he looked like someone had beaten him.

As he began to get that under control, he contracted conjunctivitis, otherwise known as “pink-eye” which is quite common here. He came to Quito for a meeting and I saw him personally. His eyes were so red he couldn’t wear his contacts. I asked him if he felt as bad as he looked and he said yes. Apparently he was in a lot of pain.

But Elder Hirschi is all go and no quit. He understands leadership, and he works no matter what. He allows himself no excuses, and others see his example and follow. As a result, he has some missionaries in his zone that are on fire, including Hermana Hooker, who has only been here for about 9 weeks now, and her junior companion, Hermana Yamberla, who arrived three weeks ago. Hermana Hooker was appointed trainer after only one change. We don’t have female assistants to the president, but if we did, she would get my vote. (Oh, and I don’t get to vote, either.)

I had the privilege of going on divisions with them one night this past week. We first taught an investigator in her home. The hermanas taught the Plan of Salvation, and I mostly sat and listened (because my Spanish is still somewhat basic). As they taught we were joined by a young man named Isaias. He is seven years old. He listened intently, and I watched him closely because it’s unusual for a seven-year-old to sit quietly while adults are visiting. I could tell that his mind was engaged in the conversation. As we concluded, I bore a simple testimony. Then Hermana Hooker asked the investigator if she had any questions. She said no, but Isaias said he had a question. He asked if he died if he would get to live with his mother and father in heaven. Hermana Hooker, addressing him as “mi amor” (my love) warmly answered his question, saying that if his parents were baptized, went to the temple and were faithful, he would live with them forever. He asked a follow-up question I didn't understand, but I noticed that our investigator, Isaias’ grandmother was crying. The next day, I asked Hermana Hooker what Isaias had asked. His mother abandoned Isaias and his brother. She is the daughter of our investigator who is raising the two boys. Isaias wanted to know if he would live with his real mother and father, or if he would be given to another mother and father. Isaias is paying a different price.

Following a visit with a member family, we visited an inactive member. Before entering the home, I noticed a black dog scratching and noted to myself that the dog had fleas. There was also a darling kitten—the smallest I’ve ever seen, who was not scratching. We took our seats, and while we were visiting the kitten climbed into my lap, curled up, started purring and went to sleep. My arms and hands were resting in my lap. Later that night, I discovered that cats can have fleas without scratching, because that darling kitten shared its fleas with me, and now I’m scratching, and paying a price as well.

This story would not be complete without mention of the man who guarded us throughout the night. The neighborhood we were walking around in appeared kind of rough to me. His mother was the grandmother/investigator. He came to her house when he got home from work, probably about 7:30, and listened to the remainder of our lesson. It looked like he was a mechanic of some sort. Though covered with the grime of his day’s labors, I was filled with admiration for him as he exercised his priesthood by giving a blessing of health to his mother.

His was the member family we visited. There was a wonderful spirit in his home as we sang, left a brief message and a blessing on their home. He then walked us to our next appointment with the inactive sister, waited outside for about a half an hour, and then walked us to the edge of the neighborhood where we could get a taxi—probably a mile and a half in all. Hermana Hooker asked him if he would be okay going back home alone and he said he would. There were a lot of young men out and about, some on motorbikes riding through the neighborhood. (Motorbikes are frequently used in nighttime robberies in Quito.) I know that three women walking around in the dark would have been a great target for someone who was ill-intentioned. Our guardian also paid a price after a long day of work, and little time with his family. How grateful I was for his sacrifice.

The Prophet Joseph Smith taught that “a religion that does not require the sacrifice of all things never has power sufficient to produce the faith necessary unto life and salvation” (Lectures on Faith [1985], 69).

Elder Hirschi said, “Pay the price.”