Road to Romance

This is time captured when I first saw Dan.  We met at the most intense time of my mission when the trials were great and peace scarce.  It was Chinese New Year 2002, and my companion was invited to a member's home for lunch.  The family lived in a different area from where we served, and in an area which both she, Dan and myself had previously served.  She made sure to remind me we were invited to lunch because of the family's relationship with her and not me, so I have her to thank for first meeting Dan.  A day or two before the lunch she heard from other missionaries Dan was going to be there.  She talked about it for two days.  She went on and on about how his Chinese was so good, blah blah blah blah blah.  His language skills were referenced in comparison to mine, so I quickly tired of hearing it.  The date came, and we arrived at the Mak's for lunch.  Minutes later, Dan who was not a missionary at the time came in with a former investigator.  First glance, I thought he looked good, and from hearing about his superior language skills I concluded he was probably a pretty remarkable guy.  Then the lunch began and wore on in silence.

I'm the type to want to keep conversations going and avoid awkward moments, whether in my mother tongue or another.  This occasion marked no exception.  Being used to older missionaries leaving me to make conversation, I wasn't surprised my companion and the others didn't make an effort to converse.  I was, however, confused why Dan, a returned missionary, rumored to be one of the best language speakers to serve the Hong Kong mission, wasn't carrying his share of the conversation load!  Immediately after meeting, I experienced the one trait that would perplex me for years to come: his inclination to remain silent in large groups.  Lunch ended and my companion and I left to go home.  At the bus stop, I wondered if I'd ever see this guy again, then quickly decided it was better not to dwell on that and let the thought slip from one side of my head out the other.

After not a thought of him for one year, providence led us to each other again.  Back in Utah, I rented an apartment from his cousin Alison, and my new roommate was his other cousin Amanda.  Amanda and Alison set us up on a blind date for games at Alison's house.  He picked me up, and we walked over to the house.  The conversation on the way was easy-flow.  I learned he could be a very personable guy.  I thought maybe what happened at the Mak's was a fluke.  He didn't remember meeting me before, and didn't really believe he actually did until I showed him the picture.  I took little offense to that, I didn't expect him to be struck down by a sister missionary with a ghost white face, hair twisted in bun, wearing a worn out-American-Eagle-purple-plaid shirt, khaki skirt and brown clog shoes.  Story made short: about one year after our second meeting and two years after the first, we were married in the Columbia River Temple.

Last Thursday, we found ourselves again eating dinner at a Chinese members home.  Language spoken: Mandarin Chinese.  Similar to 8 years ago, Dan had the sharper language skills and played the quiet roll; I had the lesser skills but kept the conversation rolling.  He filled in when I mispronounced or they misinterpreted; I filled in the silence.  What does this all mean?  I have no idea.  But here's to our first Chinese dinner together, and many more to go.

Cheers