Category: Mission Stories

Tupungato – Spring of Miracles

The year, 1991. The month, January. The day, the 26th. The season, summer in the southern hemisphere – HOT! The place, Tupungato, Mendoza, Argentina. With whom? Elder Sergio Romero.

Elder Romero and I were companions in the city of San Martin in the Mendoza province of Argentina for only one week. Then we received word from our mission president that we were going to be transferred to the city of Tupungato together. Elder Romero had been there once before and so he knew his way around. We would be living in an apartment that doubled as the church house on Sundays with another companionship (two other elders – Elder Ward and Elder Benson). I was hoping this transfer would make things better, as I had been really struggling with the Spanish language and trying to adapt to the change in cultures from the United States to Argentina.

Left to right: Me, Elder Ward, Elder Romero, Elder Benson

From my journal comes this description: “I love Tupungato. It is so green here. At night it is fresh and cool (unlike Palmira or San Martin). We open our window each night – it is so much nicer. I love the area – there are side roads (dirt roads) that are lined with poplar trees, and the view of the mountains is fantastic (Andes Mountains). Mount Tupungato (a volcano – the name of this town too) is covered with snow. Vegetables can be bought pretty cheap here, but other things are more expensive.”

Many times we rode out into the fields and vineyards to meet with different families. The province of Mendoza is known throughout Argentina for its grapes, wine and olive oil. There are a LOT of grape vineyards. Many people, having excess grapes would give us grapes to eat.

I became very proficient and quick at popping a grape in my mouth, splitting it with my teeth, digging out the seeds with my tongue, spitting them out, and then eating the grape. These were some of the most delicious grapes I have ever tasted. Amazing!!! This is a picture of me with some of our spoils from visiting many people with grapes.

On March 21, 1991, Elder Romero was transferred to a different area, and I received a new missionary companion, Elder Owen Quass. Elder ward’s companion, Elder Benson, was also transferred to a different area. Elder Ward’s new companion was Elder Matt Cox. This was the new foursome that graced our missionary apartment. In my journal I described my companion, Elder Quass thus: “He can do back flips, hand stands, et cetera. He also loves to joke. He’s funny, yet knows a lot, and understands his responsibilities as a missionary very well.”

Left to Right: Me, Elder Quass, Elder Cox, Elder Ward

In April I wrote: “We also had another Noche de Hogar [Family Home Evening] last week. About 55 people showed up and the Elders from Tunuyan and the assistant [Assistants to the President or APs] were there too (Elder Bell and Elder Bradshaw), and it was crowded.

Elder Ward, Elder Galbuchi, and the arms of Elder McClellan – doing a skit

“We ate empanadas and pizzas — mmm! I love empanadas. They are like the fruit pies, but with meat inside. We did some skits and sang and had some testimonies and all.” It was always fun to have gatherings of the members of the church and friends in the area.

These type of activities were held with the intent to teach newer members of the Church what a Family Home Evening could include: spiritual messages, fun activities, and dinner. Basically just spending quality time together with our families and sometimes with friends and larger groups.

The month of April 1991 in Tupungato was was a month of some beautiful spiritual experiences and amazing miracles. The Maldonado family was blessed with Alberto (Tito) deciding to join the Church after a miracle of healing with his daughter, making a part-member family a whole-member family. Elder Quass baptized Tito on April 21, 1991. What a blessing to see families be able to find the truth and later be sealed in God’s temple for time and for all eternity. These are amazing people of faith and conviction!

My journal goes on to describe the conversion of another newlywed family: “A few days ago we taught a charla [discussion] 1 to a young husband who was just married. They had just moved into a small two room house way out of town (like 4 miles out). They didn’t have any electric lights when we taught him. We taught him by the light of one candle, standing up (they had no chairs). He seemed very willing to listen to us. It was a good charla. We found out later that last Sunday he brought his wife, who hadn’t even heard the charla, to town on the bus to come to church. They couldn’t find it.

“We came back and taught charla [discussion] 1 again, to the wife. This time they had an electric light hooked up and had two padded crates just for us to sit on. Then, tonight [April 17th] we went back and taught charla 2. When we asked if they had read any of the Book of Mormon (assignment – 3 Nephi, chapter 11), he kind of ducked his head, ashamed, and said he can’t read very well, and didn’t have much time to read. I asked how much he had read, and he said, holding his Book of Mormon open to 3 Nephi, chapter 13, ‘Only to here.’ We were shocked – he had read 2 1/2 chapters – more than we asked. That must have been hard for him because he doesn’t read very well.

“We taught charla 2 and they accepted the commitment to be baptized. They said the prayers, asking God to help us keep coming to their house and to help them know if the Book of Mormon is true, etc. They put off a trip to Mendoza just so we can come again on Saturday. They are coming to church this Sunday. They are definitely chosen people. They seem so humble and willing to learn. I’m sure Heavenly Father is well pleased with them.”

From left to right: Me, Jose Nestor Perez, Rosa Rosario Elba Mamani de Perez, Elder Quass.

I continued in my journal on the day of the baptism: “They have to be the most humble people I’ve ever met. They accepted everything we taught in the first 5 charlas… They were chosen. They accepted the commitments and fulfilled them. We found Jose and Rosa only about 2 weeks ago. Elder Quass says this is the fastest he’s ever seen anyone baptized in the mission. I know that that could have only happened through the Spirit. They felt the Spirit and followed its promptings.

“Today they came and after church we had a baptismal service. I baptized them both and Elder Quass confirmed them both. The Spirit that was present was very strong. They were definitely the Lord’s ‘chosen.’ The chosen hear the voice of the Lord (through His servants – us) and follow it. They do everything you commit them to do. Jose and Rosa did just that. It was something special for me that I will never forget. Now I just hope and pray that they continue firm in the faith and continue reading the Book of Mormon and praying. It is something we all NEED to do. A prophet of God has commanded that we should.”

The month of April miracles spilled over into May of that year too. A granddaughter of a member was baptized a week after Jose and Rosa. Liliana Elizabeth del Rio was baptized by Elder Quass and confirmed by me.

But this was not all. Jose and Rosa shared the gospel with their neighbors. In my journal I wrote: “They were referred to us by Jose and Rosa – they are awesome – CHOSEN. I love seeing people change their lives to live the gospel. The Lord really helps people change and helps them see and understand the truth when they truly have sincere desires and seek it out.” Eduardo and Myriam Gordillo were baptized on May 19, 1991, another chosen couple prepared to accept the gospel. Elder Quass baptized them and I confirmed them.

How blessed I felt. I wanted to rejoice like Ammon in the Book of Mormon. He declared:

“…My brothers and my brethren, behold I say unto you, how great reason have we to rejoice; for could we have supposed when we started from the land of Zarahemla that God would have granted unto us such great blessings?

“And now, I ask, what great blessings has he bestowed upon us? Can ye tell?

“Behold, I answer for you; for our brethren, the Lamanites, were in darkness, yea, even in the darkest abyss, but behold, how many of them are brought to behold the marvelous light of God! And this is the blessing which hath been bestowed upon us, that we have been made instruments in the hands of God to bring about this great work.”

“….Now if this is boasting, even so will I boast; for this is my life and my light, my joy and my salvation, and my redemption from everlasting wo. Yea, blessed is the name of my God, who has been mindful of this people, who are a branch of the tree of Israel, and has been lost from its body in a strange land; yea, I say, blessed be the name of my God, who has been mindful of us, wanderers in a strange land.

Alma 26:1-3,36

I felt as Ammon, that my joy was full and I wanted to rejoice in God’s love and mercy! The Holy Spirit spoke peace, joy, and excitement to my soul. I cannot deny what I felt – I know it was the Holy Ghost confirming the truth of these things to my soul.

The experiences I had in Tupungato helped me draw closer to God and to feel the joy of bringing souls to Christ. The preaching continued with Elder Quass, and periodically doing what we called “splits,” which was switching companions, usually for the purpose of baptismal interviews being done, but also giving us the opportunity to work with other missionaries for a day.

Me and Elder Quass sporting his leather jackets

Elders in our zone (la Zona Tunuyan) having a dinner at a member’s house

Hiking near the members’ house (from previous picture)

Flying around the apartment

and back again

December 6, 2020
Ochentiuno, Gracias a Dios – Another Mission Story

—Eighty-five, thank the Lord!—

As a missionary for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, I was in the city of Tupungato, Mendoza, Argentina (Latitude: -33.3728 Longitude: -69.14755) around April or May 1991, going from door to door talking to people about Jesus Christ with my companion, Owen Quass. We were in a poorer section of town where most of the homes were set back in with a fence and gate in front. In these situations (with either an open door or a yard with a fence and gate) it was polite not to enter the yard, but to instead clap your hands at the gate (or open door).

Thus, we were knocking on doors or clapping at gates when we came to a home with a small dirt front yard (rarely did anyone with any sort of a yard have grass) with a wire fence and gate, with chickens wandering the front yard. We clapped and a very nice older man came to the gate. We explained who we were and that we were sharing a message about Jesus Christ. He let us in to his yard and directed us to sit down, I think, on some old wooden crates he had there.

We usually began conversations by trying to get to know people a little bit. We would ask them questions about themselves and tell them a little about us first. As I had only been in the country about 2 months, I could understand pretty much everything being said to me, but I could not speak the language (Spanish) very well yet. Because of this, my companion was usually the one who started things off in conversation.

At this particular home, Elder Quass (elder is the title male missionaries go by, along with their last names, while serving as full-time missionaries) led out with a few questions about the man’s family and other things. It quickly became apparent that the man was rather deaf. He kept asking, “¿cómo?” (what?) after everything my companion said. Elder Quass had to speak very loudly and slowly for him to make out what he was saying. Then, having seen all the chickens in the yard (there were maybe 20 at most) he asked, “¿cuántas gallinas tiene?” This means “how many hens/chickens do you have? In quick reply the man answered, “ochentiuno, gracias a Dios!” (eighty one, thank the Lord!)

It was obvious at this point that the man misheard the question. He thought my companion had asked, “¿cuántos años tiene?” (how old are you?) We had a hard time containing a laugh. After that, the phrase “ochentiuno, gracias a Dios!” became immortalized in our mission district as a phrase that reminded everyone of this story and brought laughter to everyone’s hearts. I’ll have to thank that man in the next life for unknowingly bringing cheer to many as his story was retold, including in a skit we performed at a church party.

Elder Ward, Elder Cox play the missionaries on the left while I, Andrew Gifford, play the old, deaf man on the right, and Elder Quass played someone else to add humor.

May 23, 2018
Mission Stories

—Flag of Argentina—

The other day, as I was sharing some stories from the time I served a two-year mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints in Mendoza, Argentina, my son, Seth, was asking a lot of questions about the story I shared. I said to him that I realized that these stories have never been recorded. My journals have a lot of experiences in them, but not a lot of the stories I shared over and over agains with my children as bedtime stories when they were younger. Thus, I felt that I should begin a journey to record these experiences. I’m not sure yet if I want to do it in such a public venue as this blog – I’m still trying to figure out exactly what I want to do, and how I want to record them. For now, I thought I would share a story that I don’t mind sharing on this blog:

When I first arrived in Argentina I had been studying Spanish in the Missionary Training Center (MTC) in Provo, Utah for four months (for those of you familiar with LDS missions, the usual time in the MTC for a foreign language mission was two months). I had been delayed because I had to have surgery to have a cyst removed before being shipped off to Argentina. I was anxious to get to the country to start preaching the gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ. It was a 13-hour flight from Los Angeles (we had to go to the Argentinian Consulate in LA to officially obtain our visas to be able to remain in Argentina for two years) to Buenos Aires. My first shock was going from three feet of snow in Provo in January to the middle of a hot, muggy summer in Buenos Aires. I stepped off the plane with my big heave trenchcoat on and quickly realized that I needed to strip down to just my white shirt and roll up my sleeves. I had been told about the seasons in the southern hemisphere being opposite, but it never really sunk in until I experienced it.

The next shock to me was getting into the airport with the small group of missionaries I was with and realizing that everyone but us was speaking in Spanish, even the announcements over the loudspeaker. Despite having studied it intensively for four months, I could not understand any of what people were saying. It was one thing to hear an instructor speak it in the classroom, but it was entirely different to be thrown into a place where my native language was no longer being spoken by anyone but those in my tiny group. Everyone seemed to be speaking so fast – I couldn’t make out where one word ended and the next word began. Only here and there was I picking out words that I could understand. I was more than a little nervous and scared. I realized that I was going to be here for two years.

We had to disembark at the Ezeiza International Airport in Buenos Aires and then catch a bus from there to the other airport closer to downtown Buenos Aires.

Ministro Pistarini Ezeiza International Airport, Buenos Aires, Argentina

I don’t remember how that worked, but someone in our group knew where to go to catch the proper bus that would take us to the other airport (I think somewhere I still have the ticket from that bus ride). It was a ride that allowed us all to stare out the windows and get a good look at what Argentina was like. It took us on a freeway that went right past the LDS Buenos Aires Temple.

This was taken from the bus we were riding in (Buenos Aires Temple)

We also drove past residential areas and into the heart of downtown Buenos Aires, heading for the Aeroparque Jorge Newberry, another airport very near the bay of the Rio de la Plata, the large river that separates Argentina from Uruguay on its other side. From this airport we would catch another flight to the province of Mendoza on the other side of the country. It was an awesome sight seeing huge docks and shipping yards along the river as we neared the airport. Everything was so new and so beautiful.

Upon arrival at Jorge Newbery, we had to find our way to the right terminal for our next flight. In struggling to find our way around in a new place without the language skills to understand anyone, we were all a bit overwhelmed and scared. To our surprise and great relief, a woman who spoke English came to our rescue. She lived in the United States but was flying to Mendoza to visit her family there. She guided us to the right terminal. We were very appreciative of her and thanked her profusely.

While waiting for the next flight I decided I would go to the restroom before we had to board. The facilities were right across from where we were waiting. I entered and had another shock. There were no enclosed bathroom stalls whatsoever. There was one big urinal wall that was open all the way across. Then there was another wall, also all open, with holes in the floor and feet marks in front where one would squat to poop into the hold in the floor. This was too much! I wasn’t about to relieve myself openly in front of complete strangers, with absolutely no privacy. I turned around and left, deciding I’d wait and relieve myself on the plane.

It was about an hour and a half flight from Buenos Aires to Mendoza (about 700 miles). We boarded the old-fashioned way – walking out from the terminal across the tarmac to the plane, going up the staircase that was set up against the side of the plane. I was happy to get on board and finally be able to privately relieve myself in the restroom. I was very aware as the flight attendants served us Sprite from glass bottles, realizing that soft drink brands here were very much the same as at home, but in glass bottles instead.

As we came in for a landing in Mendoza, I remember looking out the window and thinking that it was weird to see a large airport surrounded by what looked like ghettos and dirt roads. Strange to have such modern forms of transportation and yet find such poor conditions right next door. The mission president met us at the airport – he was from the United States. We loaded up our luggage into his car, a fairly newer model Peugeot, a popular make of car in Argentina at that time. We rode with wide eyes, staring out the windows and taking in all the new sites, to the mission home in downtown Mendoza, leaving the ghettos region behind as the freeway drew closer to downtown. We got into areas of smaller skyscrapers, busy with traffic. The mission home was in a fairly nice area of the city, and it was nice to be there with our mission president and his wife (President Charles Eastwood and his wife), both of whom were from the U.S. Sister Eastwood served us a delicious dinner and we received instruction from the mission president.

President Charles and Sister Eastwood, Mendoza, Argentina

Later on we were taken by the assistants to the president (the APs) in the mission van to a small hotel nearby for the night. This was a very old hotel, with a small office at the front for check-in, and narrow halls and steep staircases to the rooms. The APs got us checked in and showed us up to our room on the third or fourth floor – a shared room with several small single beds (4-5 of them) with hard matresses and no box springs. Then they showed us the bathroom, telling us all about the bidet attachment on the toilet. It was a lever that when moved, made a sprayer slide out into the middle of the toilet. It was for washing oneself off after doing “number 2 in the bathroom. The APs swore up and down how awesome the bidets were, and how they loved to use them instead of toilet paper. I was skeptical because I had never tried one before. Later on, I actually did try it, but I held the hot water lever too long and slightly scalded my rear-end – ouch!!! Looking out the back window of our room, I through the center of the block and saw the ruins of some very old brick buildings there. It made me wonder how long it had been that way.

Picture taken from the hotel room of the ruins behind the hotel

This all made me think that all the modernity of Argentina was sort of tourist trappy – all show on the outside to make a good impression on the visitors, but then deep down on the inside of everything there were run-down neighborhoods, dirt roads, old adobe brick houses with cane walls plastered with mud and dirt floors, and widescale poverty. This is what I started prepping myself for as I lay in that hotel room and dozed off to sleep. I wondered how the Lord would help me learn the language well enough to be able to communicate with people. I was anxious and nervous, yet at the same time, ready to dive into the Lord’s word in harvesting souls for his cause.

January 19, 2014
Don’t Forget to Pray

—Remember to Pray—

This evening I enjoyed being with my boys as they worked on the dishes. At our house, Sundays are the days boys are responsible to do all the dishes. Gavin, without fail, always pulls up and turns on some Sabbath music. He was playing different hymns through YouTube. That got me wanting to create a playlist that I could use for this – one with good Sabbath music. So, I added it to my YouTube channel and started searching for a lot of the songs Gavin likes to hear on the Sabbath. Then, after most of the kids were in bed, I continued adding some songs. This one in particular really strikes a chord with me every time I hear it:

So here’s the story behind it: The year: 1992. Location: General Alvear, Mendoza, Argentina. It was a Sunday morning and church services were starting. The branch president had asked me about a month previous to give a talk that day in sacrament meeting. I spent several hours over the previous week preparing a talk. However, when the branch president got up and announced the program that day, he announced different speakers, completely leaving me out. A flood of anger washed over me. How could he do this to me? I spent hours preparing my talk. He asked me in advance to do this and now he forgets? I was boiling inside, yet I knew I shouldn’t be.

The opening song started, and it was this one: Did You Think to Pray? I was just singing words that didn’t mean anything to me as the anger simmered inside. Then came the second verse:

When your heart was filled with anger, did you think to pray?
Did you plead for grace, my brother, that you might forgive another
Who had crossed your way?
Oh, how praying rests the weary!
Prayer will change the night to day.
So, when life gets dark and dreary,
Don’t forget to pray.

It hit me like a steam train. This was a message from God right to me at that very moment. I needed to pray for grace to forgive the branch president. I knew he didn’t do this to me maliciously. It was just a simple oversight, a human bout of forgetfulness. We all have this happen at one time or another. Tears rolled down my checks as God’s love rushed into my heart and I looked up with love at the branch president. He had no idea that this had even happened to me, and yet my heart swelled with love for him and his diligent service to the Lord.

Now every time I hear this hymn, it is like I feel God’s voice speaking directly to my soul. It moves me still almost to tears. I am so grateful that Heavenly Father loves us enough to help us get past our human foibles and has mercy enough to forget what we’ve done wrong in the past and see what we can become – he sees our potential. I am grateful that he loves me enough to encourage me on despite how many times I’ve let him down in the past. He loves us all this much. Let’s hear his voice and strive harder to be what he knows we can become. He reminds us all, “Don’t Forget to Pray!”

August 25, 2013