Every noble impulse, every unselfish expression of love, every brave suffering for the right; every surrender of self to something higher than self; every loyalty to an ideal; every unselfish devotion to principle; every helpfulness to humanity; every act of self-control; every fine courage of the soul, undefeated by pretense or policy, but by being, doing, and living of good for the very good’s sake–that is spirituality.
For the mushy hearted missionary mom with a baby boy in far, far away Lithuania–Christmas day is a fabulous thing. Because Christmas, my lovelies, is one of the four days in two WHOLE years that I get to talk to my boy on the phone.
So, at 12 noon, our time—which was 9 pm Lithuanian time—we called our Daney boy. Ohhhh…he sounded wonderful–just like he was sitting right next to me. He said he loved the pictures of the babies…
and of course his BYU loot.
I had no idea that he took that football with him. What a crack up!
He told us about the place that he lives now called Sialulia–pronounced Show-lay. It’s really quite beautiful–cobblestones and snow everywhere.
He said he spends most of his days knocking on apartment doors. Most often, no one is home or they don’t open the door.
He told us that he loves to entertain the kids at an orphanage by talking like Donald Duck. Imagine speaking Lithuanian and Duck at the same time. It makes his nose itch.
Makes my head hurt.
Lily and Beckham sang ABCs and Twinkle, Twinkle. Baby Chompy said, “Oh, wow!” right into the phone.
He read us the Christmas story in Luke–but in Lithuanian. It’s a very curious thing to hear your own child speaking a language that you didn’t teach him. He has worked so hard since last year at this time.
The best part about this phone call was that this was the last Christmas day call and then in June….
ahhhhh, then my boy comes home. I’ll try to contain myself.