Yesterday we had the missionaries serving in our area of Tijuaua over for lunch. I had run into the missionaries one day on the street and invited them over. It was a quick invite, and I didn't even pay attention to their names, or ask any questions about them.
We all sat down to eat and Ben and I began to ask the usual find out questions.
Me : Elder, where are you from? (Missionaries don't use first names on their missions, and replace their first name with Elder, if a male, or Sister, if a female.)
Elder: I am from Orem, Utah.
Me: Elder (insert last name). I have relatives with that last name.
Elder: Where are they from?
Me: Layton.
Elder: What are their names?
Me: My aunt Jer and my uncle Russ.
Elder: No way, they are my aunt and uncle, too!
We went on to discuss how we were related to our aunt and uncle.
We had been to family parties, weddings, and probably Thanksgiving together, but had never talked to each other. I guess a ten year age difference will do that.
Crazy, huh? We spent most of dinner discussing our common family, and I marveled at how small the world is.
After the missionaries left I tried to call my aunt to tell her that we had fed her nephew, and that he was doing well. I also called to have her say hi to his mother, and that he was doing well. (You see, missionaries can only write e-mails home once a week and call on the phone twice a year.) So it was pretty neat to be able to relay this message.
It is such a small world, and it was fun to have almost family over for dinner.
I wish I would have taken a picture, but I forgot. Hopefully next time.
