Category: Missions

Art by Nick Stephens,

Excerpts from Early Mormon Journals: Christmas 1835-1859

by Various Authors, art by Nick Stephens, "River Rim"

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Jonathan Crosby, recent convert and visitor to Kirtland, 1835
I paid for the entertainment, and then walked about town and went to the temple; it was not finished. This was Christmas Day and I was invited to a feast. Patriarch Smith, the father of the Prophet was there giving blessings, and told me when I got moved there with my wife he would give us blessings.

Luman Shurtliff, Nauvoo resident preparing for the trail west, 1845.
The temple now was nearly finished. On the 25th of December, 1845, Christmas, my wife and I received our endowments. Continue reading…

Art by Randal Marsh

The Elder Who Wouldn’t Stop…

by Wm Morris, art by Randal Marsh

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Elder Russell’s greenie was the most diligent, obedient missionary he had served with so far in Spain. There was only one problem: he wouldn’t stop drumming. During breakfast, lunch and dinner; phone calls, visits, and discussions. With his fingers, his fists, his feet, his knees, his mouth. With forks and spoons, pens and pencils, pamphlets and notebooks, twigs and breadsticks. On the bus and on the metro; on the table and on the counter; on the elevator and on the stairs. On his chest and legs and arms. On his scriptures, on his dinner plate, on his backpack, on his bed. On every door frame, every handrail, every seat back, every street sign. And even sometimes on Elder Russell. Continue reading…

Art by Nick Stephens,

Excerpt from “The Straw” (written 1922)

by Nephi Anderson, art by Nick Stephens,

Earl paused in his story to look at her as she entered. Yes, she was good to look at in her well-fitting, modest dress. She seated herself and listened to the missionary experiences.

She had time now to observe him closer. As usual with returned missionaries, Earl had grown in many ways. He was more manly, he spoke with greater ease and assurance. His face shone with fervor as he told of his faith-promoting experience in the field. And as Mary sat and looked and listened, she wondered whether or not she had made a mistake when she had refused to become betrothed to him some three years ago, before he went on his mission. He was certainly a fine looking young man now, and perhaps she had been a little too hard on him because of some of his bad habits. Anyway, here he was, calling on her. His mission had no doubt straightened out the little kinks in his character, given him a testimony of the truth of the gospel, and, in short, made a man of him. Was her long-sought-for ideal to be attained? Was her heart’s yearnings to be satisfied? Were her prayers now to be answered? Continue reading…

Art by Randal Marsh,

Album

by Scott Hales, art by Randal Marsh, "The Bee Keeper"

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Gilson sits with the missionaries as his mother makes them lunch. The newest elder, an American, wears Doc Martens with bright yellow stitching. Unscuffed.

Seeing the elder’s shoes reminds Gilson of the six months he spent with a rich American companion in the Bahía. Blond hair. Blue eyes. Teeth like a whitewashed wall. And this kid could be his brother. So many Americans joke about how all Brazilians look alike. They should look in the mirror.

His rich companion, Elder Crothe, was from California. Gilson and the other Brazilians called him “Croach,” but the Americans turned it into “Crotch.” Once the Brazilians got the joke, they said “Crotch” too. Crothe thought it was hilarious.

Continue reading…