A Memory Worth Remembering

Lima, Peru: April 2012

Last week, I sat with some of my good friends in the Jordan River Temple, preparing to do Baptisms for the Dead. While sitting on the pew, thumbing through a Spanish bible I found and taking in the beautiful organ music being played, my thoughts drifted back to an amazing opportunity that I don't think I fully appreciated at the time.

Just over 3 months ago, I had the opportunity to enter another one of God's temples. I had just taken a 6+ hour bus from Chiclayo, Peru to Lima, Peru, where there is a beautiful LDS temple.

 We got to Lima early in the morning. We were tired. We were sticky and sweaty from the humid heat. Truth be told, we were kind of grumpy. It was a stressful, chaotic time for us four women. It marked our last few days in Peru and we had just left the people and children that we loved back in Cajamarca. We were coming home, and I really didn't want to.

So we walked to the temple.

I was sooo grateful for my cool, flowy MuMu that day as it made for the perfect dress to wear in Lima. However, to this day, Abi does not let me forget how atrocious that Peru Belt looks with my MuMu :)

I can't even remember if we did Baptisms that day (Man, I should've kept up my Peru blog better!) but I do remember feeling a little bit of [home] while we walked around those grounds in a huge city that was completely foreign to us. We knew no one in Lima, but we knew that those who were in that temple were friends, because they believed what we believe and they eagerly welcomed us into the house of the Lord.

About a week or so later, we returned back to Lima for our last day in Peru. We were to fly out that very night, back to the states. Again with the tired, hot, stinky, stickiness. We were a sight to see. But we went to the temple. Our last Hurrah in Peru.


But get this! We stopped by the cafeteria to grab some water when BAM!

A familiar face was sitting in there eating lunch with his dad. It was Hermano Sandro! The coordinator for the humanitarian program that we were in Peru with. He was the first friend to greet us in Cajamarca and show us to our humble abode. He doesn't speak a lick of English, and those first few weeks of trying to communicate with him were an adventure. He got really good at using simple words and speaking slowly and clearly for us. While he wasn't a whole lot of help to us during our adventures in Peru, he was a kind, good man. He was a good friend with a sweet family. I'll never forget following him around the wet, rained on streets of Cajamarca, a water jug on his back, walking with a limp, while us three gringas scurried on behind him.

Seeing him at the temple (16 hours away from his home in Cajamarca) was a miracle! A tender mercy even.

I switched out the Peru belt for a nicer looking one, but the Chacos snuck themselves into this outfit.

He even was the one in the baptistery who baptized us (I think...help Abi!) and he for sure was the one who confirmed us. I'll never forget because he seemed kind of nervous (he probably hasn't had much practice, seeing as the closest temple to him is 16 hours away!). It was so sweet though, because he put his hands on Abigail's head and began with, "Hermana Abi.." Usually, when performing this ordinance, they use your last name. So it should have been, "Hermana Tucker". But Hermano Sandro didn't know any better, and I sure as darn wasn't going to cut him off and fix it. It seemed so personal, so heartfelt. The fact that it was in Spanish was awesome as well.

Oh good times. GOOD TIMES!

It's another one of those days when I think to myself, "Ok Noelle, you've now been home longer than you were even in Peru. When are you going to stop missing it so badly?"

I don't know the answer to that one. Maybe when I have another adventure? Maybe never? Something tells me it'll take quite a bit to get me to stop missing and loving that beautiful country.