New Yoriquens

Hola a todos! <Hello everyone!>

The title for this letter is pronounced “New Yore-ree-kins.” It’s what we call the people who live here, but are from New York or who lived in NY for a long time. Which, by the way, THERE ARE A TON. Everywhere I turn, they’re there, ready to tell me how much they dislike Trump.

There are some really great things about New Yoriquens though, they always know where to get the best food and they seem to always donate clothes to us. There are actually like three recent converts in the area who are from NYC and I swear, they’re my favorite combination of people: New York and Boriquas (people from PR).

 I ran into one of them this morning haciendo compras <shopping> and they directed me away from the store brand bagels and showed me a beautiful frozen section that holds bagels that not only were supposedly better, but THEY’RE MADE IN NYC. I bought three different kinds and when we got home I tried my very best to act normal on the outside but on the inside I was dying to eat a crap ton of bagels. Here’s a picture of me very excited to eat a blueberry bagel with a blueberry spread. And yes – it was very, very, very good.

Other fun news: Mom and Dad sent me a package that had a bunch of things that not only made me a happier person, but helped me out in a crazy sitch. Let’s start by reminding you that we had interviews with our Mission Pres. this last week and well, it was like right in the middle of our day and we had the day PACKED with lessons. I’m not gonna lie, I wish we could have skipped the visits because we missed out on some very important lessons that had to be put off until the next free day we had.

 But anyway, we ended up being about an hour and a half walk away from the church, without a car and we had to be at the church in 40 minutes. Honestly, it was a huge miracle that we made it in time because we started running right after our appt. to get to the visits in time with P. Smart. Satan REALLY didn’t want us to make it, ‘cause we had a TON of mishaps along the way.

 First, it started raining with like 30 MPH winds, then it hailed a little and we only had one umbrella to share. It was rough and I was convinced we would show up looking like death to the church.

But that’s not even the end, we were running really close to a fence and a freaking DOG BIT MY SKIRT yeah! It was so shocking that I ripped it out of his mouth and kept running without bothering to look at my skirt. Well, bad news was that when we got to the church, wet, sweaty, and tired, I noticed my skirt. IT WAS RIPPED SO BAD. I had nothing to fix it with and honestly, I was just glad the rip stopped at my knee. But when a maxi dress is ripped like that it definitely doesn’t look missionary appropriate, lol. So, praying P. Smart wouldn’t notice, I had my interview only to be told I had a package waiting from my parents.

Here’s the miracle: my impatient self wanted to open it before we got home because I was hoping for some candy or something (due to the constant hunger I have as a running missionary) and lo and behold the first thing I pulled out was a dress! Mom was spiritually guided to do that because we didn’t even have to waste any time going home to change and we were able to get on with our day and stay on schedule with our citas <appointments>.

I love how we can see the love Dios has for us even in the small things in our lives. LOVE YOU MOM! Thanks for helping a girl out on a bad day! (Also thanks for the cards!)

 Sorry I don’t have more, but I’m out of writing time, love you guys!

Hey look! Another picture of me and notice the cute pin of the Book of Mormon I have? It’s cool huh (REALLY MOM, YOU ROCK)?

—

Keep beach city weird,

Hermana Thelin

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