On Saturday I went fishing with my grandpa. I woke up at 5:45. The earliest I've woken up in months! It was hard.
Grandpa and I headed up to Canyon Lake. We took our water, some fruit snacks, worms, fishing pole, and other supplies for our adventure. Once at Canyon Lake, Grandpa realized he forgot his fishing license. Back home we went. The sun was starting to peek out over the mountains. The first rays hitting us as we traveled down that windy road. We came upon a clearing and decided to stop for pictures. Little did we know the adventure awaiting.
I'm posing for the camera when a man wrapped in a blanket walks up to us. He's disheveled and dirty. My first thought is that he'll ask us if he can take our picture. Immediately after, I have a small panic attack. I soon realize he wants to ask us for a favor. Sure enough, the man asks if we can give him a ride into town. I freeze, unsure of how to respond. My Grandpa only speaks Spanish and I don't want the man to know that. I feel as if it could be something to use against us. You know, cause only speaking English will protect me from any physical attack by a man twice my size. I tell Grandpa what this man wants and ask him if we should. Grandpa turns around and shrugs. He says it's up to me. I call my mom. For several reasons. 1. To ask her permission. 2. Apparently, I've already made up my because I tell her that should anything happen to us, she knows where we were and what we were doing. 3. I needed her reassurance.
Grandpa tells me to ask the man to unwrap himself from the blanket to see what he's carrying. The man has a book, some clothes, and a water bottle. I then tell the man to get in the car. Off we went again, on that windy road. Only this time a strange person is sitting right behind me. I offer him some fruit snacks. I imagined he hadn't had anything to eat. Curiosity gets the best of me and I ask the man why he's walked so far. He explains about the fight he got in with his wife and how he left his house and walked and walked (like pioneer children). He probably didn't sing though. I ask about his children. Two girls that live in Texas. One is twenty-five the other I don't remember. He hasn't seen them for awhile. My next thought is to share the Gospel with him. I don't. Yes, shame on me. I wanted to. Believe me, I did. But I didn't know how to begin that conversation. "Excuse me sir, but can I share a small message of Jesus Christ with you? I know it will change your life. I know it will help improve your relationship with your wife and your daughters." I guess that's a good start.
Grandpa and I take him to the gas station. I don't want to drive him all the way to his house. Gramps and I still need to go back home to get his fishing license so we can get out on the lake. I remembered I had a Book of Mormon in the pocket of the passenger seat. Too bad it was in Spanish. At the gas station, I tell the man he can catch the bus home. Then I give him the seven dollars in cash I had in my purse. I tell him to use it for bus fare or to buy himself some food. He gets out of the car and Grandpa and I leave for home.
It's amazing isn't it, how the Lord works certain miracles in people's lives. That should be a question but it's not. It's a statement that needs to be read in awe.
Grandpa and I got his fishing license and headed back to the lake. Once there, we found a small niche to set up. We spent the next 2 hours fishing. We only caught one fish. But it's not about the quantity. It's about the quality. Gramps and I talked about his life and my life. We shared stories. We laughed. We bonded. My right arm and leg received a very minor sunburn. It doesn't feel like fall in Arizona yet. It's an endless summer here. There were even people out on the lake in their boats tubing and wakeboarding. While I do enjoy the sunshine, it would be nice to have crisp fall air.
Grandpa is going back to Guatemala soon. Mom thinks he's going to die there. I don't know, but perhaps she's right. David Archuleta told me on our date that before his mission, he couldn't ever communicate with his Grandpa. There was a language barrier. But now that he knew Spanish, he was really excited to have conversations with his Grandfather. That impressed me. It also made me feel bad. There's never been a language barrier between my Grandpa and me. Simply put, I have never taken the time to build a relationship with him. Saturday, I began that. It might be too late but at least I started.
