LDS Missionary: France Paris Mission

The Missionary Training Center

Time flew by in a whirlwind of playing sports to pass time and continuing to work before leaving on my mission. It was time to start the next two years of my life. The two years of my life that I knew would mold me into the person that I would be for the rest of my life.

It was finally October 20, 2010 and I was more than ready to get out there and teach the LDS faith to those people who had never heard it before.

It was about a three hour drive from St. George to Provo, Utah. My family and I traveled in a fairly crowded, mostly quiet Suburban. Outside of a few sniffs here and there and the soft music of the Mormon Tabernacle Choir, there was rarely any talk. Everything seemed frozen except the Suburban as it traveled northbound on the freeway.

It was an early morning for my family and me as we all dressed up to take me to the missionary training center in Provo. I was all packed and ready to leave for the Missionary Training Center and to then go on to France from there after nine weeks of learning the French language.

I had had a good and fairly successful life up until this day. I had become an Eagle Scout and graduated from high school both in 2009. I had started going to college to become a pharmacist and working towards getting a degree in 2009 and 2010.

 I didn't speak a lick of French, but I was about to learn more of another language than I had ever even imagined possible. Sure, I took two years of high school spanish, but I didn't learn as much as I would have liked if I knew I was about to spend two years speaking it.

 We arrived in Provo and hung around the Provo LDS temple which happened to be across the street from the MTC. We snapped a couple of pictures and then the time had come for me to say goodbye to my family for the next two years. The only forms of main communication would be letters or emails. We, as missionaries, were allowed a phone call or a Skype call twice a year, once on Christmas and once on Mother's Day.

 We pulled into the MTC parking lot, or maybe a drive-thru was a better name for it. I got out of the vehicle in my suit and tie and pulled out my luggage which would be my only belongings for the next two years and was greeted by another missionary.

It was maybe a five minute drop-off at the longest with my family before I was whisked away by the incredibly smiley and happy missionary to show me my living quarters and classroom for the next nine weeks before I was to be shipped out to France to spread the LDS gospel.

The missionary would lead me to drop off my bags at my dorm room and then he took me to gather a few belongings that was given to every missionary. The bag contained scriptures in French, a French handbook, and a few smaller items that would be helpful in learning both the LDS gospel in simpler terms than previously known and learning French.

As I sat in the classroom with the two teachers and only one other missionary, Elder Garland, I remember looking around and seeing the names of each missionary in my MTC district. Elder Peiper was my companion, Elder Bell, Elder Barker, Elder Shumway, Elder Livingston, Elder Garland, Elder Coleman, Sister Harline, Sister Neumeister, Sister Turney, and Sister Wiseman were the names hanging on the wall. None of the names were familiar except one.

'Sister Harline,' I remember thinking. 'I really hope she is not related to Jonny Harline, because I don't want to deal with that crap for nine weeks.'

Jonny Harline had played football for Brigham Young University in 2006 and had caught the game-winning touchdown as time expired over my beloved University of Utah Utes.

Elder Garland was a redhead kid from England. He seemed pretty cool. I was so shell-shocked I didn't have the words to talk to him as I was fascinated with his accent. He seemed to have no problem with my lack of speaking as he just spoke with the two teachers and randomaly at me.

One-by-one the missionaries took their seats where their names were being displayed as mine was behind me. I sat and talked as little as possible as the others around me got to know their companions a little bit.

We introduced ourselves in French, which was difficult for me considering I was one of only two missionaries that had never learned any French in high school.

"Je viens de Beaver Dam, Kentucky," my companion, Elder Kenton Pieper, said with a mild southern accent introducing himself and where he was from.

Everyone laughed because of the name of the town. Now it was my turn to go. The teachers had tried to teach us briefly about what to say. I still had no idea what I was saying.

"Je....m'appelle...Elder Abel," I said quietly. "Je....viens....de...right? St. George, Utah."

I know for a fact I butchered that French, but I was terrified of not knowing what to say and how to say it.

"Is your brother Jonny?" Elder Pieper asked after Sister Harline finished her introduction.

"Yeah," she replied with a grin.

"He's awesome," Elder Pieper ended the conversation.

I didn't even need to ask. I didn't feel it was time to bring up the fact I wasn't a fan of Jonny's catch right then either. I just sat there still confused with what was going on.

After meeting Frere (Brother) Quinn and Soeur (Sister) Mumford, we were finally allowed to go eat dinner and then we came back for a quick lesson before going to bed.

I was still in shock and awe with what was going on. Today had seemed to cruise by. I was still meeting the people around me and a lot of them had no problem with chatting and making friends. I am more reserved and sit back in a shell until someone decides to pick at it.

Overall, the day was a lot of fun and I was already learning things, even if I didn't fully understand what they meant. I missed my family and friends already and I felt this was going to be a really long two years. I thought long and hard about why I was there though and I knew this was the right path at this point in my life.