When I went to the MTC for the first time I was so excited. I was excited for all the new experiences I would have and all the people I would meet and I was...
My companion and I were teaching a sweet old lady who didn’t have much but she loved the gospel. She had lovingly made us a unique and interesting meal one day. She cooked a plantain directly in the ashes of her adobe stove. The same place where she had just burned a plastic bottle and some of her other trash.
Those same ashes made a nice even coat around the plantain almost like a powdered sugar donut. On top of that we were served an old piece of meat hanging from her kitchen. The same piece of meat that my companion had earlier noticed was being swatted at and played with by her pet cat. The flavor of the meat was so pungent and the texture so tough that I could barely choke anything down.
I struggled so hard grinding the smallest portion into a digestible consistency that it felt like an eternity to swallow one ounce. I knew I couldn’t finish it without dry heaving and I resorted to operation plastic bag.
I always kept a ziplock bag in my purse just in case a situation like this arose. I stealthily took out the bag and when she had when she wasn’t looking, I frantically shoved the meat into the ziplock bag and back into my purse. Feeling very proud of myself, I thought I had conquered operation plastic bag. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to cover my tracks as wells as I thought.
After lunch we went to another appointment with a new investigator. She too had a pet cat that took a liking to the rancid meat. When I wasn’t looking, the cat had rummaged through my purse and dragged the meat across the floor wrestling at it with its claws and teeth.
We didn’t get a second visit after that. We also didn’t make any more lunch appointments with our dear elderly investigator after that. Fortunately she did get baptized so I guess it was all worth it in end.
Sister Jackson served in the Honduras Comayagüela Mission.