There was this man named Don Pedro. (name has been changed) or maybe we'll call him "Scott." 

We met "Scott" on a P-Day. He sat next to us while we emailed our families. (We can do that once a week!) 

Five weeks later, he made some promises with Jesus Christ, that he would forever follow Him, take upon him Christ's name, and "stand as a witness at all times, in all things, in all places." (Mosiah 18:9). He was baptized.

ANYWAYS, one of the prettiest moments on my mission was standing in his doorway, because he was sick and we couldn't go in because it was just us three, and he said "hey, guys!" in his sick little voice haha and we showed him a little scrapbook that we had made him of his baptism day. Then we sang him a song called "I know my Father lives," and time froze. Kind of like the times where you almost get hit by a car, or you're about to faceplant in front of 800 people. Ya, that didn't happen. Actually, yes it did. BUT THIS WAS ONE THOUSAND TIMES BETTER.

We were singing, I looked around and saw our picture he had put on his fridge. Here, actually let me show you a digital version of that :) hahaha 

and a painting of Jesus Christ a member had given him, and he was BEAMING looking at pictures of that day. In that moment, even though there were what seemed to be a million semi trucks driving by, I felt so extremely happy to be a missionary.