When I was a kid we lived in Southern California. We loved living there because not only was it warm but we could see the firework show from Disneyland every night from our bedroom window. My parents worked very hard to provide for us. Yet no matter what our needs were we could always find someone who was worse off and needed immediate help and attention.
My father was over a small congregation at church. The congregation met in his native tongue which is Tongan. My mother and all of us kids did not speak any Tongan at all. Nevertheless we went to church weekly and listened to everything in a different language. I would like to say that we took advantage and learned to speak but we didn’t. We understand a lot more than we speak which is still true today. But when it’s not spoken in the home then it’s difficult to learn and my father was gone regularly.
To add to the chaos we housed two sets of missionaries that my mother was constantly helping. She cooked and cleaned up after them. She took them to appointments and helped with everything else. Those missionaries were incredibly lucky to be staying at our house! We loved having them because they played with us and read us stories at night.
I have so many fond memories of that house but there were a few memories that stand out above the rest. When my father was called to the congregation there was only a handful of active members and when we moved he had over 100 regular attendees. In that time he regularly assessed the needs of the congregation and what we could help with. My parents did not make a lot of money but have always given to those who needed it.
Right before Christmas my mother put together some beautiful Christmas baskets. It included candy, fruit, and baked goods to deliver to those who needed it most. They decided that we would leave it on the doorstep and ring the doorbell and run away. Ding dong ditching was a new concept to me. It was the first time I would be doing it and I wasn’t quite sure how to do it without getting caught. We had a fantastic time doing the first couple of houses and I felt I was getting the hang of it.
On the last house I came to I skipped up the driveway and to the door with a giant basket in hand. I wasn’t paying attention and I walked right up to the door and rang the doorbell. I didn’t realize that the door was open and only a screen stood between me and an older gentleman. Before I had the chance to run he looked at me and the basket and said in a loud voice “who is that basket from?” I stood very still and was not sure what to do. No one told me what to do if I got caught. I replied “umm nobody.”
He looked at me again and said “who sent you”? I was really panicking now still not sure what to say. I timidly replied “my dad.” I set the basket down cautiously expecting for him to yell at me but was surprised when he got up and walked toward the door. He opened the screen, picked up the basket, and then put his arm around me and squeezed me tight. I could feel his gratitude through that hug and it made me feel so good inside.
That Christmas was also just as memorable because we got Teddy Ruxpin for Christmas and in the very first hour of having it my brother took his stubby finger and stuck it in Teddy’s eye which made him break. Let’s just say that we cried a lot after that!
I’m so very grateful that even at a young age my parents included us when serving other people because it has had a lasting impression on me and my desire to serve. The experience of the ding dong ditching stands out and hopefully I can follow my parents example and teach my children at a young age that service can be fun and rewarding!
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