We are Sparrows

Honestly, last Thursday was a little rough emotionally. Our Thanksgiving Day isn't celebrated in Ecuador. You can get a turkey, but they're the biggest I've ever seen. I have a Barbie oven. It would never fit. Cranberry sauce is plentiful; canned pumpkin pie filling is nowhere to be found. My children gathered in Arizona for Thanksgiving. My internet didn't work--hadn't worked for nearly a week, and I couldn't even call them on Skype and talk to them. In my usual "oh-well-never-mind" fashion, I put my head down, kept busy and tried not to feel sorry for myself.

Fortunately, my distant cousin, Brother Sadler and his wife (the distant cousin thing is a long story better told elsewhere) invited me and the Wards and several of their friends to dinner at their lovely home. He works at the US embassy and therefore has access to the commissary. Thus, we not only had a real-live American Thanksgiving dinner, it included ROOT BEER, which is virtually impossible to get here because Ecuadorians think it tastes like medicine. So it's not a big seller.

Dinner was marvelous. The company was wonderful, including two families from their ward and the former consul general of Ecuador in the US and his wife. (They were a lot more glittery than the rest of us.) There were children--missions are somewhat devoid of children. Following dinner, we went around the table and each person told what they were grateful for. I was very grateful for the opportunity to spend the evening with new friends commemorating such an important holiday, and grateful for the overwhelming generosity of the Sadlers in sharing their hospitality, their family and their testimonies.

As I returned to my apartment, I expected to see the same two or three flashing lights on my modem that indicated it wasn't functioning. They had been flashing that way for a week. Repeated calls to the cable company met with a different story/explanation each time as to why the technicians hadn't come. Hours of waiting fruitlessly in my apartment for technicians to show up had worn me down emotionally. I didn't have the words to explain to the cable company why it was so important to have the internet functioning on Thursday.

Fully expecting a nonfunctional modem, I glanced at it and was shocked to see four solid lights--an indication that it was internet-ready. I quickly pulled up the web and dialed Mandy's home on Skype. I held my breath, wondering if the connection would stay stable. It did.

I got to talk to each of my children and the grandchildren who were still awake. When the Skype software would enter a feedback loop during which we couldn't hear each other and would just have to wait until it finished, Chris, my son, entertained me with sight gags and hand motions. I laughed, and then through tears told him that is one of the things that is most difficult about living alone--there's no one around to make you laugh. It's tough to make yourself laugh.

I kept glancing at the lights while talking, hoping they would stay lit. They did. We got to talk as long as we wanted, and then, around 11:00 I signed off and went to bed.

The next morning, the two and three flashing lights were back.

Jesus said,"Are not five sparrows sold for two farthings, and not one of them is forgotten before God? But even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear not therefore: ye are of more value than many sparrows." (Luke 12:6-7)

This Thanksgiving was the first Thanksgiving my children have spent without either of their parents with them. Even though a working internet connection is such a little thing in the eternal scheme of things, I was overwhelmed that Heavenly Father intervened to give our small family an opportunity to connect on Thanksgiving.

I am grateful that we are sparrows.