People always say that when they served their missions or had a certain calling, that they loved the people they were serving even when they didn't know all of them.
Although I started to understand that as a Primary teacher, I don't think I ever fully have. I grew to love my kids in Primary as I got to know them - it didn't just come naturally.
Now I do understand.
I love every Mexican here with all my heart. Except for the creepy ones - but yknow what? I don't even feel a weird hatred or nastiness towards them like I probably would at home. I love my family. I love love love my little sister. I love the people on the bus, my teachers, the bus drivers, the people who drive around in those trucks and honk while we're waiting at the bus stop. I'll be honest - as excited as I am to be with my wonderful husband, drink American milk, eat Cocoa Pebbles, and have my clothes back, thinking about leaving these wonderful people and this beautiful place is breaking my heart. LITERALLY.**
**For those who wondered, my heart is not literally broken. Thank you for your concern.
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
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