The Leaches Missionaries to the Turks in Bulgaria

Supporting and Mailing Address: Charity Baptist Mission Inc. P.O. Box 692 Bristol, TN 37621-0692 Tel.(423) 878-8231 Fax (423) 878-7161

Greetings from cool, sunny Bulgaria!                                                                                                                                             November 21, 2009

Fall began with rain and mud and it looked like the rain was going to carry us right through to the snow, but the last couple weeks have been rather nice. We've been able to buy, cut, and stack wood for winter. We were also able to do some insulating of the house. The kids were able to take some walks and play at the new little park in our village. We appreciate the good weather. We still have roses in bloom.

The work is going strong. The churches are praising God for salvation through Jesus Christ. They testify about their life while serving Mohammed and how Jesus changed everything so completely. He gave them love. He gave them peace. He gave them grace. Slava Na Boga!

One part of the ministry that gives the people strength is the morning prayer meeting. In our village, we meet together each morning. We sing a few songs, pray, and fellowship. On one recent morning, the Pastor's daughter told us of some of the people she has told about Jesus. One lady, a "clean Turk" from Shumen, asked her one day why she prayed to Jesus. She told her all about Christ, salvation, and unconditional love. The lady said she would think about it. Well, one day the lady got sick. The Dr said her condition was grave. She called the Pastor's daughter and said, "Pray to Jesus for me. I need to know that He hears prayers." God heard the prayers and answered. Now the lady is a believer.

Another story is of a man in our village. He used to have wealth, but lost it all. He lost his wife, his children, his cars---everything. Today he has no job, no wood or woodstove, and no family. He is an alcoholic. The Pastor's son-in-law is a friend to him. He invited him to church. The man, Miglen, said that an alcoholic couldn't go to church. He said that he was ashamed and thought that the people would tell him to leave. The son-in-law kept after him that he would find love in the church. He promised he would come. That was last week. He didn't come. But they are still inviting. Still reaching out. Still showing him kindness. It is our prayer that he will come to know the Lord as his personal Saviour. Pray for Miglen.

The last story was about Rocko's grandmother. Perhaps I've not mentioned Rocko before. He is a young teen, born in prison to parents who are inmates. At birth he was taken from prison to live with his paternal grandmother. She is a poor widow in our village with barely enough to care for herself, let alone a child. As Rocko grew, he became an angry, bitter young man. He hated everyone and every thing. He caused many problems in the village. By the time he was ten, he had a small gang. Many were afraid of him.

Then he started going to the church's feeding center. At first he was angry and treated everyone at the center badly. If he was having a bad day, he would throw his food and yell at everyone. When hymns would be sung, he would mock. Then one day things changed. As he was yelling at the lady who was feeding him, she answered him softly. She remained kind. He saw something in her that day that he wanted. He went away that day and didn't come back for a while. When he did return, he was different. He showed kindness to all and wouldn't allow his friends to be mean, either.

That was a few months ago. Now he waves to us as we pass. When we are at the park, he comes over and talks to us and wants to play with our kids. He has volunteered at the center to help with any work that may come up. It's night and day difference.

A couple weeks ago, Rocko got the flu. He was very sick. The Dr told him to stay home and not go to the center because he could spread the illness to the other kids. But, if he didn't go to the center, how would he eat? His main source of daily nutrition comes from the center. So he went early one day and asked for food. The lady gave him a jar of soup to take home. She also sent a jar for his grandmother. Day after day for a week she sent a jar of soup to their home. Finally the grandmother came to the center (hunched over, walking with a cane) to thank them for feeding her. She'd never been treated so kindly. The cook asked if she wanted to come to the center daily and eat with the kids. She said no. She said that it should be for the kids. But when the cook insisted she take home some soup, she didn't turn it away.

The feeding center is feeding the poor, the widows, and the fatherless. What a blessing! Thank you all for your prayers and support to reach these people for Christ. You have been more of a help than you know! Glory to God!

I hope these testimonies have been a blessing to you!

Because He First Loved Me, Brother Larry Leach, Jr.

Dear Brethren,                                                                                                                                                                                     November 15 2009

Today was like none other in my history as a missionary. On my way to prayer meeting I got a call from Ismael that one of the believers had died. The "Baba", they called her (which means old lady or Grandmother).

I went on to prayer meeting where I received the full details on what would need to be done to conduct a funeral and go to the graveside.

First, we needed to find a white sheet material for grave clothes. Then we needed to go to the Dr's office and get a death certificate. From there we would go back to the Baba's house where the cloth would be sewn and last respects would be paid.

Of course the usual stores did not have the white cloth, so we walked around Novi Pazar looking for it. As we walked around Novi Pazar, we met up with other believers, who all wanted to pay their respects. It was quite a van full.

Then, because it is Saturday, the Dr was not at his office. We called him and he said he would come to the office right away. He wanted to examine the body himself, so he joined my van full and we headed to the village. By the time the van had completely unloaded, the Dr was ready to go back to his office to write up the death certificate.

After waiting a while outside the Dr's office, the certificate was finally ready. Ismael and I headed back to the village to have the funeral. We sang and prayed.

At that time a makeshift room was built outside where the women would wash and dress the body. They took a lot of time making sure everything was done properly. It reminded me of the women who looked after Jesus' tomb.

Then it was time to go to the cemetery. The wrapped body was put in the back of a horse cart and taken to the cemetery. Only the men went.

When we got there, the hole was already dug. It was about 4ft deep and at the bottom, the hole was inset. In that inset, the body was laid. A mud brick wall was built to enclose the body in the inset. Then the dirt was put back, leaving a mound. From death to end of burial was 14 hours.

One blessing that comes from days such as these is that any lost who gathered got to hear the Gospel. They heard one Pastor at the grave announce, "She's not here! She's in Heaven with Jesus!"

Also, while we were gathered in the house, singing about Heaven and about Jesus' resurrection and Amazing Grace, it set in strongly that as a missionary, all ministry to this one lady was over. But as I looked around the room, my heart was challenged once again to reach as many as I could. Please pray.

Thank you all for your faithful prayers. It is because of your prayers that missionaries stay on the field, telling the world about salvation through the Lord Jesus Christ.

Because He First Loved Me, Brother Larry Leach, Jr.

November 7, 2009

Dear Faithful Brethren,

The weather has turned nice once again, so people all around our area are taking the opportunity to prepare a little more for winter.

A man down the road is gathering fallen limbs and sticks for firewood. I saw a man in Shumen gathering plastic bottles from dumpsters to burn for warmth. A missionary brother is putting on new roof tiles and hoping to be moved in before Christmas. As a family we have been cutting wood and doing some winterizing on the upstairs of the house. The upstairs is still not being used because it's unfinished. So it must be closed off for winter. We appreciate each little project because it gets us that much closer to a finished house. Having lived for a while with gravel floors, holes in the walls, and showering in the barn, we are very thankful to have a warm house. We appreciate everything our supporters have given to help us get where we are.

As attention is turned to the needs of winter, I ask that you pray and give as the Lord leads. Of priority is the yearly flour distribution. During this distribution, around 1,500 families will each receive a 110lb bag of flour and 5 liters of cooking oil. $25 will help one family survive the harshest winter months.

Also, the feeding centers will have greater needs during the winter. Because of the lack of work, more children are coming to be fed. The feeding center in our village is one of the newer ones and is lacking in monthly support. It needs a little more money monthly for potatoes, noodles, rice, beans, and bread. Over 20 children eat at this center daily.

And lastly, for the missionaries. Winter is especially hard because the needs are so great. Also, the dollar is low and gas is on the rise. Hopefully it will stay under the $8 mark it hit last winter. Some of our missionaries spend $1,000 each month on fuel to get to the meetings and distribute food among the feeding centers. Additionally, car repairs are common because of the number of miles traveled and the bad roads.

As Thanksgiving approaches, we think even more about you all. You have been such a blessing to us in so many ways. Your faithful prayers have given us the strength to go on when we were sure we couldn't take another step. Please know that as we sit around the table on that traditional Thursday, we will be saying a thanks to God for you. Thank you for everything you have done for us and for this ministry.

Because He First Loved Me, Brother Larry Leach, Jr.

“I thank my God upon every remembrance of you, Always in every prayer of mine for you all making request with joy,
For your fellowship in the gospel from the first day until now;” Philippians 1:3-5

Dear Faithful Friends,                                                                                                             Fall 2009

Harvest is here and it causes me to reflect on this year’s harvest in the fields of Bulgaria and Romania. People are being saved. Lives are being changed. God is being glorified. Praise the Lord!

Since my last prayer letter, we have had several baptisms and camp meetings among the Turks. Around 140 believers were baptized in the last few months. The churches are very encouraged and are praising God. They testify to everyone about their salvation and the love they found in the Lord Jesus Christ.

Every morning in our village is a prayer meeting. We all find such strength during that daily meeting. We sing a few songs and then pray together. They thank God for the missionaries who came to help them. They thank God for the churches in America who sent the missionaries.

One morning at the prayer meeting, Brother Alish and his family shared their full testimony with us. They said that for many years, he was a strong Muslim. He was mean and his children didn’t like to be around him. When they would hear about Jesus in the public school (Orthodox influence), he would become so angry. Then one day his youngest daughter (who was an adult by this time) heard the Gospel and got saved. She opened up her home for a church. She invited her parents but they nearly disowned her. She stayed strong and eventually her mother came to the church. When she heard the hymns, her heart was stirred. Before she left she told her daughter that she had never felt such peace. She kept going, even though Alish was angry about it. Somehow, slowly, Alish’s heart softened---so much so that when he finally heard the Gospel, he got saved. Now he pastors several churches faithfully. All his children are saved, as are most of his grandchildren. He stands before the people and with tears tells of God’s amazing grace.

Alish’s life today is much different than his days as a Muslim. He is happy. People enjoy being around him. His youngest daughter feeds the children in our village. Another daughter in a distant village hosts a church in her home. His sister is married to a national Pastor. And, just this summer, he had the privilege of baptizing his daughter, son-in-law, and granddaughter.

I’m happy to say that these types of testimonies are common among the churches. God took a people that nobody wanted and has done a mighty work among them. I’m thankful to be a part of it all.

I’m also thankful for the part you all have in this with us. Your sacrificial giving and faithful prayers on our behalf have been such a blessing to this ministry. The emails of encouragement, the Christmas boxes, the birthday cards, the help in building our house---it is all appreciated more than words can tell. Thank you all from the bottom of our hearts! Without you, we could not be here. You are all in our heart and we love you.

                                                                                                 Because He First Loved Me, Larry Leach, Jr.

“And to the angel of the church in Philadelphia write; These things sayeth he that is holy, he that is true, he that hath the key of David, he that openeth, and no man shutteth; and shutteth, and no man openeth; I know thy works: behold, I have set before thee an open door, and no man can shut it: for thou hast a little strength, and hast kept my word, and hast not denied my name.” Revelation 3:7-8

Greetings Brethren,                                                                                                                     February 2006

I hope this letter finds you all well and as in love with JESUS as He is with you. In this letter I have a bit of information to share and also a testimony of God’s goodness.

Information: In our last prayer letter I wrote that we had a situation with our visas. I’ll try to make a long story short—Our Bulgarian visas hit many snags and while we waited, our visas in Romania ran out. We had to be out of Romania by January 31. We flew back January 18 and are anticipating a 6-8 month stay in the States to finish the needed paperwork for our Bulgarian visas.

            We hope to visit some new churches while we are here. Also, if you, our supporting churches and prayer warriors would like us to visit you.

Testimony: We arrived in Michigan late Monday night. Tuesday morning we saw the need to do some grocery shopping. On the way to Wal-Mart, we stopped at Hungry Howies for lunch. As we ordered our food, we talked to the man about life in Romania, being missionaries, and the gospel. He was very interested. We sat down and waited for him to bring our food. When he brought the last of our order, he handed me $30 and told me he wanted to buy our lunch. Carrie and I cried. After we ate I went to thank the man again. He asked us to write “Dan loves Jackie” in Romanian for his wife. Then he wanted to hear the kids sing. So in the middle of Hungry Howies we sang Amazing Grace in Romanian, Turkish, and English. He called his wife and held the phone out so she could listen also. We were all blessed by this experience! I’m so glad the Lord gives us things like this along the way! Praise the Lord!

Thank you all for your prayers. Please pray for our visas, our stay in the States, and for health and safety while we travel. Pray much for the souls of the people in Bulgaria and Romania.

 “For a great door and effectual is opened unto me, and there are many adversaries.”      I Corinthians 16:9

                                                                                                  All Because He First Loved Me,

It all started before the actual flight

It all started before the actual flight. It was Monday, Nov. 1. I was planning on packing all day, meeting some friends for a farewell dinner at our favorite restaurant, and then to clean our little apartment the next morning, load up the van, and finish any last minute preparations. Well, my plans hit a snag!!!!! No, an iceberg!!!!!!!!! At the end of a long day of packing, I came to the end of my luggage allowance only to find that I had a bed full of necessary stuff yet to take. I called the airline to enquire of their baggage allowance. Things went from bad to worse. 8 of my 14 bags were considered too big. Beside the fact that I was only allowed 13 bags. What a dilemma. On the way to dinner, I explained to Larry the problem. I cried and cried and cried. We knew we had to empty every bag, sort through what was “needs” and what wasn’t. So, the morning before our flight, we had to ask for help. I went to another missionary wife, explained my situation, and asked if her older children could watch my children and let them play outside. She agreed, having been in my shoes before. So Larry and I sorted through our life’s possessions and decided what needed to be left behind. In bag #14 we put things that would be nice, but could also be taken back to the mission if the airline didn’t allow us to take it. We worked steady until 3:00 in the afternoon and then loaded it all in the Children’s home van. I then cleaned the apartment, and finished up those few final things. I went to bed but couldn’t sleep, knowing that I would need to get up at 4:00 a.m. and get the kids ready for the “big trip”.

Morning came all too quickly and we began the drive to Atlanta. One of our missionary men drove us down. We got to the airport nice and early. It was full of soldiers getting ready to be deployed. Brother Frank told two of them of his appreciation and wished them “God speed”. We waited in the Lufthansa line for a while. We were such a sight---a good looking couple (ha ha), 4 kids with back packs, a newborn in a carrier on her mother’s chest, and 14 army bags on two carts being pushed by those that drove us. At one point, the kids and I sat on the floor to rest while I nursed little Cherith. When our turn at the ticket counter came, it helped that we had so many “beautiful children”. They let us have that extra bag, didn’t check the size of any of them, and didn’t even weigh the last 5. That was a breeze. Next was to say goodbye to our missionary friend and make the rest of the journey on our own (well not really---The Lord was ever present). We then had to go through security. We had to take everything off such as bags, purse, baby carrier, wallet, watch, etc. Larry and I both had a pouch around our waist with our important documents, etc. and we had to take those off as well. We put it all through an x-ray machine, and then had to walk through a metal detector. I warned in advance about Hannah’s braces. They took her and Larry into another room while I kept the kids and watched our things. At one point Esther was crying for her Dad and an airport employee told her to come with her and she would take her to her Daddy. I (a little too enthusiastically) said, “No, she is going to stay with me.” Larry said I offended her, but that was the least of my worries. After getting through security and strapping everything back on, we continued the trek. We had to take a subway train to our terminal. There wasn’t a pole for me to hold onto, so I had to brace myself against each movement of the train. The kids thought that part was fun. When we got to our gate, we were so hungry. Larry went to the Burger King in that area and got us all a little something. We all sat and watched planes land and take off.

Finally the time came to board the plane. We were almost all the way to the back---which was fine by me. Jonathan was by a window, then Josh, then an aisle, then me, then Hannah, then Esther, then another aisle, then Larry, then a fella from India with one of those rags on his head. He was a big, ugly fella. We were a little intimidated by him. Larry said he ended up being a really nice guy. Larry got to talk to him about the Lord and about us being missionaries. Anyway, back to the order of events. We all got in our seat belts and the plane started to taxi. The Lord had given me the peace I had prayed for, so I was not afraid at that point. The only emotion I had as I watched the ground get farther and farther away was sentimental. I really was leaving the land of my nativity---leaving everyone and everything I had ever known. I tearfully whispered a goodbye. The flight was fine---for the most part. We did have a group of old people getting drunk not too far in front of us. Also the movies of choice were smut. Then, my frustrations began and lasted for the rest of the trip. I’ll give it all to you quick----Esther pees in her pants, Hannah needs a change, we go to the bathroom just as the movie ends and everyone is in line, squeeze in the cubicle they call the bathroom, take care of business, sweat like a pig, get back to seat, boys need to go, Jonathan climbs over a back pack and pulls the lady’s hair in front of him, Joshua steps on the feet of a lady who covered her whole head and body (except her feet) with a blanket, Esther’s dinner table is broken and her supper ends up on the floor (fortunately she wasn’t very hungry), and then while going in for a landing, Esther throws up on herself and Larry and I can’t reach her to clean her up and we can’t get up out of our seat belts---that was the most horrible part. The funniest part was when a male flight attendant came by my seat with his hands folded and said, “yes?” I looked at him and said, “What?” He said, “You pushed your call button.” I said, “I’m sorry. I must have bumped it.” He then realized that it was Esther that had pushed the button (I think she was grinning). He said (Say this in your best feminine, broken English, German accent), “Tell her to stop. It keeps ‘bing bing’ in the galley.” Then he walked away. I just laughed.

Finally, we landed in Frankfort, Germany. We were so worn down that Larry and I barked at each other a little bit around this time frame. We wearily made our way to our next terminal. It’s a lot harder to find when English is the second language there. Larry walked in front with a couple travel bags, the boys were behind him, and I pulled up the rear (ha ha) with a girl in each hand and a sleeping baby strapped to my chest. At one point, Hannah almost pulled me down a flight of escalator stairs. We waited there for 3 hours before taking a bus out to the runway to our TINY plane. We were one of the first on, but people were coming in so fast from two directions and stuffing their belongings in the overhead compartments that we couldn’t get to our seats. I was shoved by a rude Romanian. There was no fighting back. They were just going to be pushy and rude. There were disputes over the seats and in an obvious discriminatory manner, one Romanian was taken from his seat and pushed to the back of the plane—but not without a fight. He let them know his mind. I felt some fear at this point. The last thing I wanted was to be 30,000 feet in the air with and irate man sitting behind me. I cried and prayed. I knew I needed some strength. Hannah asked to sit by the window, but when we took off, she shut her shade---so typically Hannah. Things calmed down quickly and just as quickly I fell asleep. The rest of the family soon followed—actually, Esther was out before we off the runway. Not long after, I woke to the sound of landing preparations. I waited until Larry woke up and asked him if he was ready to go home-----that is, our new home awaiting us. It was a sweet moment for us, tiredly looking at each other, ready to do what we were called to do. When we landed, everyone started to scurry to get their bags. Larry had quickly learned their mannerisms. He stuck his body out in the aisle and proclaimed, “I can only hold them back for a minute. Hurry and get the kids and their bags and get off the plane.” It worked. We made our way to a waiting bus—I think. That is all blurry now.

When we got to the area where we were to get our bags, a man ran over to us and said, “Leach?” He said yes and we looked over to see all our bags gathered in one area----they had all made it (We were told that we are the first family to have all their bags make it and none be lost). 3 guys with carts helped us take our bags to meet the two missionaries that met us there. Larry and the boys rode with our bags in a van. The girls and I rode in a car. Brother Zack said, “You may want to get some sleep. This is the hardest part of the trip.” I asked why and he told of the bad traffic and the dangerous roads. I told him I wasn’t much of a car sleeper----wrong!!!!! There in the back of that little car, I slept. Not at first, though, because the girls were so goofy. They were laughing hard and singing a song about britches. Then they saw a field and Esther said it was the mission field. Brother Zack laughed. I tried to take the scenery in, but I was too tired. The times that I did wake up for a moment, I saw a LOT of poverty. I saw one little boy running by the road in the dark with no shoes or socks. I saw houses without windows and some with corn stalks for a roof. There was also a lot of buggies on the roads---feeding the animals for transportation might be cheaper that the gas here.

Anyway, after another four hours, we were home. The men carried our heavy bags up the stairs to our apartment. It was so pretty---not the outside. That was dirty. I couldn’t believe this was considered a clean neighborhood. Well, I guess it’s not really too bad. It just has a lot of litter on the ground.---The apartment was clean and neat and ready for me to move in and make myself at home. I went through the cupboards and desk and everywhere else to see what all I owned---Isn’t that funny?! Larry called me to the big bathroom and said, “Here, step on the scale. You will be sooooo encouraged.” I stepped on, looked down at it and laughed. It was in kilograms. Here I weigh less than half of what I did in the States. I LOVE my new home. We then found everyone a place to sleep and crashed for the night.

I couldn’t believe it was 10:00 when Larry woke me up to get ready to go to Brother Zack and Sister Verity’s house for dinner (or lunch if you are a Yankee). Joshua complained of his tummy hurting, but didn’t have a fever, so off we went. When we got to their house in the village, Josh threw up all over himself and the van seat. “Hello, we’re here!!!!!” What an arrival. Verity got me some rags and soapy water and called for another missionary wife that I had not yet met to borrow some of her son’s clothes. So that’s how I met Sister Tracy. I greeted her while cleaning up vomit-----not the introduction I was hoping for. She was so sweet and said that they had all been there before. Thankfully, she ate dinner with us and I got to give a proper hello. Verity fixed a wonderful meal of chicken and dumplings. After, we sat around and talked. Their girls played their violins and sang for us. Later, Larry and Zack went to town to take care of a few things while us girls sat around swapping birthing stories. When the men got back, Brother Zack told me a funny story. He said that he pulled Larry up to our apartment so he could run up and get something. After a few minutes, Larry came back to the van from another direction and said, “I don’t know where I live. Can you help me?” See, we got there at night and all the buildings in our area look the same. We all got a kick out of that one. I got really tired that day. They brought us home and we fell in a heap.

The next morning I didn’t wake up until 11. Tracy brought us some pizza—not the American style, but similar. The kids were so hungry that they chomped down two pieces real quick. Then when Jonathan got his 3^rd piece, he wasn’t so happy. He said, “Mom, this one has chunks of tomato in it.” I told him that they all did, but he just didn’t eat slow enough to know it. That day, we got almost everything unpacked. The kids watched their videos while Larry and I tried to figure out how to organize everything. We quickly realized that we would need a bookshelf.

The next day was our first church service. We were picked up and driven out to the Children’s Home where they hold English service in the upstairs. WE were greeted by the missionaries and got to meet the rest of the group. Last of all, I met Brother Ralph, the head missionary. They had set up our chairs. We sat down and soon service began. We sang for an hour, prayed, and then Brother Ralph preached out of Romans 7 for an hour. We thoroughly enjoyed it all. Then we went downstairs to prepare the potluck meal in our honor. We took the food over to the Mayor’s house (this one is a longer story---It belonged to the mayor, but our group had to buy it in order to get electricity for the home complex. So we use it for Turkish Meeting and other such events). It was a wonderful meal and then the kids went outside to play and the adults sat around and talked and sang. It was WONDERFUL!!!! The ladies sang while they cooked and sang while they cleaned. This is my kind of group!!!!!! I love music!!!!!!! Anyway, then we went home and slept some more.

The next day, we unpacked some more and hung family pictures on the wall. Then, Brother Nathan came to pick us up for another meal out at the Children’s Home. They fixed lasagna and garlic toast made on this wonderful Romanian bread (we eat this bread with every meal---it is so cheap). I started feeling sick that day—kind of a head cold thing coming on. The next day they brought chicken potpie to the house—delicious! We arranged the house some more.

That night was Turkish meeting. Brother Nathan picked us up. We were so anxious to go. This is what we had been waiting for. We walked in to the mayor’s house and were greeted by a lot of the Turkish believers. They hugged us and kissed our cheeks. I was forewarned that they would want to pass the baby around, so I had her asleep in the carrier on my chest. Some of the women tried to talk to me. I had no idea what they were saying. Talk about speaking in tongues. We began to make gestures to each other to explain what we meant. It worked for the most part and I was able to communicate. One young woman holding a small baby came and tried to ask me some questions. I, felling horrible about it, had to tell her that I didn’t know what she was saying. She sadly walked away. See, to her, I was someone with whom she would have a few things in common with. She came back a few minutes later and tried again. As hard as I tried to talk with her, neither one of us could understand each other. Again, she sadly walked away. I knew I had hurt her. Brother Zack came over to give us some news from the kitchen. They had fixed us some Turkish coffee and put milk in it---a BIG thing because they don’t have the milk to spare. Brother Zack had told them that we don’t drink coffee. I asked if they were offended and told him I would drink it before I would hurt them. He said that they weren’t offended but rather excited that they could drink our coffee with the milk in it. While he was standing there, the young woman came back. She asked him to tell me some things. He stood there and acted as translator until we had enough of each other’s information to communicate on our own. She told of her 3 sons. Her baby was also a 2-month-old boy, but she had wanted a girl. We told our children’s ages and even discussed nursing and bottle feeding (this part was not through the translator, knowing it would embarrass him). This time she walked away encouraged. One young woman walked in and greeted us, counted our children and said something loudly to the whole group. Everyone laughed. We were the brunt of a joke that we couldn’t understand. Brother Zack called from across the room and said, “Larry, she says you should make 9 like Matt Welch”. Again everyone laughed. This time so did we. Someone also made a joke about Larry’s beard. They said they couldn’t recognize him with it. Originally we thought it made him look more like a Turk, but they said it made him look more like an orthodox priest. This was when they gave us our names. Larry sounds like Leddy. Carrie is Ceddy. Jonathan is Jon (long o). Hannah is Anna (A sounds like a short o). Joshua is Josh (long o). Esther sounds like A-stair-uh (roll the r). Cherith is Cheddy. It was actually emotional for me to be given a name by these people. They had accepted me into their group right away. What a wonderful blessing!!! Now it was mealtime. They gave us a hot bowl of some kind of meat soup. It was very oily. I guess they like a lot of oil. They also gave some kind of cabbage dish. I ate some soup, but wasn’t feeling well, so that’s all I had. I was proud of myself, though, for being able to swallow the mushy piece of fat from my soup. Then they set on a plate of some kind of powdered sugar dessert. I didn’t know what to do now. I asked Brother Zack and Brother Nathan if the Turks would be offended if we didn’t eat it (you all probably know we don’t eat sugar). He gave a wicked grin and said to leave it on the table and it would get eaten---by him, I’m sure. When we got done eating, we just sat there and waited for service to start. It only took me a short time to realize that they were eating in shifts. When one group was done eating, they would get up and let the next group eat. They wouldn’t tell us this. They think too highly of the American missionaries. So we got up and walked around for a bit. They told us that it was time to go to the basement for meeting. Brother Nathan whispered something to Larry and he came to tell me. He said that if there were chairs down there, the men sat in those and the women and children sat on the floor. He apologized. I said I thought it was great. I said I would do however the women of that culture did. I am no better than they. When we got down there, there were no chairs, just blankets lining the floors and lower walls. I took off my shoes and took my seat with the women. One gave up her wall seat so I could lean my back on the wall. She and my girls were about to make fast friends. Cherith had gotten hungry so I had her on my lap. Then Hannah was having trouble taking her braces and shoes off so I, knowing she would get snatched up, laid Cherith on the floor to go help Hannah. Sure enough, upon return, I found Cherith happily in the arms of the older lady that had given me her seat.  They started singing. It was loud---very loud. They sang with their whole heart to the Lord. They got to raising their hands and shouting. I cried. I looked around at the faces of the people that I had longed to be with. Here they were, no one dressed fancy, probably wearing the best thing they owned.  No one was there to impress, it didn’t seem. They just loved. They didn’t mind at all sitting crammed together on the floor of a basement room that was about 20ft.x20ft. I guess there were about 50-60 people in there. They sang for about two hours. Then Brother Zack gave Larry a chance to to say something to the people. I can’t remember exactly what he said, but it was something along these lines: Glad to be with them, glad we serve the same Savior, glad we are going to the same Heaven, and a few other things that I can’t remember—sorry. Whatever it was, they liked it because they were shouting pretty good. Then He gave me a chance to say something (he interpreted for both of us). I told them that I had seen their faces in pictures and loved them before I came, but that I was gladder that they loved me. They all said amen (they say it as o-min—short o). Brother Zack then preached to them about Heaven. They loved it. We didn’t know what he was saying—he speaks the languages very well—but we have the same Spirit dwelling in us and we enjoyed it anyway. After the preaching, one man stood up to testify. Brother Zack interpreted some of it for us, but we could also understand by some of his gestures. He said that before he was saved, he was into everything. Then he pointed to his peacefully sleeping child and told how the Lord had completely changed him. What a wonderful first service with the Turks!!!!

The rest of the time here has been too much to remember. It has been full of learning where to shop, meeting our faithful taxi driver Mihai (sounds like Me-hi), scouring the city for a book shelf and bunk beds, getting the computer fixed, meeting the administrator of our building, upsetting our downstairs neighbor, meeting the Romanian nationals, etc. I’ll tell of how we have been trying to get the kids some beds. First, you need to know that EVERYTHING in Romania takes FOREVER to get done. First, we had to find a furniture store that knew what a bunk bed was. You see, the people here think that 2 kids is a big family---ha ha ha ha ha. Then we had to specify mattress measurements---they have mattresses of every size and measurement. You wouldn’t believe how difficult it is to buy a bed when the sales person and the customer don’t speak the same language. Thank God for Mihai---no seriously---he speaks a good amount of English. Larry and I are so funny sounding by the time we get home from things like that. We are still talking to each other like Indian Chiefs---“You –want—butter—on---bread?” When we realize how we sound, we just laugh.

Speaking of laughing at yourself, try going shopping. We went with Brother Nathan to the Metro (this is a very nice store for Romania. It’s like a small Super Wal-mart, but set up more like a Sam’s club). He took one of our Romanian workers to buy a pair of shoes. We went exploring. We decided that Larry should have some yogurt. We found the dairy area and saw a yogurt shaped container and it even said “Danone”. That should be it, right? Wrong. Brother Nathan’s son Jacob said that it was some kind of milk (butter milk is what we were told later). So we looked in the next aisle. Bingo. Yogurts of every kind. You could tell by the picture. But I thought we needed a bigger container. I found a nice big container and thought the picture looked like the plain yogurt I was looking for. Just the Brother Nathan and Lulu(the Romanian fella—We just call him Lu) came over and told me I was getting ready to buy a giant tub of sour cream. That has been just the first of many, many mistakes.

We have learned enough words to be able to go to market, though. You all must be praying for Larry’s language skills just like he asked of you before we left. He is picking up words, learning their money, exploring Unity Street, and even laughing with people. He is trying out his new words—such a wonderfully pleasant surprise. He has gone out with Catalin—another Romanian believer---when he went looking for beds and bookshelf. We call that man “cutta”.  He and his wife brought us home from church one night. He told Larry if he ever needed help with anything, just to call him. He said his name, but it was hard to say, so Larry said he would just call him “Brother”. He thought that was funny.

Everything here is such a process. We can’t get a phone without the landlord. We can’t call the landlord without a phone. We can’t talk to our landlord without an interpreter. The interpreter has a family of her own and is quite busy. We can’t get Internet without a lease and we can’t get our lease without meeting the landlord. We don’t know where to pay our bills until the interpreter has time to show us. We can’t even get the gas bill out of the mailbox because we don’t have a key and we can’t get a key until we meet the landlord. We need to get a garbage key from the administrator but we don’t know where his office is and we won’t know where his office is until the interpreter has time to show us.  We were told we need to get a car but we can’t get a car without a visa. We can’t attend language school without a visa. But we can’t get a visa until we have a lease and we can’t get a lease until….Well, you get the point. We are anxious to get all this done, but no one here seems to be in any hurry. This is their way. Who really cares if you are an American anyway?????

The scenery in our neighborhood the best I can describe it is like old Italy. There are little houses with fences around each one. They all have hanging vines that grow their own grapes to make their own wine. There are a lot of stray dogs, none of which really bother anyone. We have outdoor fruit and vegetable markets---the grapes are WONDERFUL!!!!!!! Then we have a street full of storefronts with everything imaginable. WE have a market across the street from us and she sells anything from soap and toilet paper (small paper towel if you ask me) to olive oil and yogurt. If you can’t say what you want, you either point at it or write it down on paper before you leave the house (we have a tourist word guide). On that one street, we have an Internet café, flower shop, jewelry store, salon products store, toy store, shoe store in back, indoor produce market, several nice mini markets, and even a place to buy bathroom sinks. Larry investigated all that. One day when he got home from Metro with Mihai, he was knocking on the door. It takes a while to open the door because of our high tech lock system. I opened the door to find Larry holding 3 beautiful roses with a giddy Mihai behind him grinning and saying, “He love you!” That was special. Also special was yesterday when Larry brought me home some mousse. No one thought they had any here. He tried to look at Metro and thought he found some but came to find out it was spray deodorant. I tried some today and it is salon quality for much cheaper.

The kids have adjusted well even though new demands have been put on them. The biggest one is “quiet time”. I guess the apartments here have a time everyday where everyone is supposed to observe this quiet rule. It is between 1 and 5 in the AFTERNOON. WHAT!???!!!!!! Who makes children be quiet for four hours in the afternoon????!!!!!!! Mihai says a quiet child is as rare as a pretty old woman. Anyway, we found out this rule when the man just under us complained to the administrator. He then came to the house to tell us to be quiet. I guess the man downstairs told him that I have a kindergarten up here. The administrator told him he thought we only had 3 kids. He said, “No way. There’s got to be more than that. I want to count.” This is funny, but we want to keep the peace, so we strive to observe “quiet time”.

Other points of interest-----we have no hot water most of the time. WE have only taken one warm shower right from the tap since we’ve been here. Fortunately we have a water heater in the shower---EXPENSIVE to run!!!!!!!!! Still, a warm shower is a lot better than the alternative. Also, no screens on any windows. People park their cars on the streets to where a 2-lane street becomes more like 1 ¼. Still they fit two cars coming at each other. Traffic is ridiculous. I’m so glad Mihai drives us everywhere.  A small thing of real butter costs $1 at least.  No one here seems to want you to say thank you for anything, but most everyone wants a tip. It’s customary to tip for almost everything. They also seem to take the long way around for everything they do. Like the man that had to come to our house and remove a pipe from the wall. He kept banging and banging on this pipe and putting a big hole in our cement wall. Larry had my friend Sandy (Brother Ralph’s wife) call Dana (our nice interpreter friend) and had her talk to this man on the phone and tell him it would be easier and less messy to cut the pipe and pull it out in two pieces. He said, “No. I bang big hole in wall, pull out pipe, then fill hole.” They do not listen to reason. Husbands and wives here don’t seem to be very close. They love each other, but they speak harshly to one another. One example is our upstairs neighbor. They are always speaking loudly to each other—not mean necessarily, just loud. Oh yeah, we also have to pay 19% tax on everything we buy---OUCH! I just heard tonight on the way home from church (I’m writing this in bits and pieces. Just trying to keep up with it all so that when I get internet, I can just send it like this and not have to try to remember everything) that gambling is legal as well as controlled prostitution. The girl on the street corner is apt to get arrested, but there are services you can call for such things---Disgusting isn’t it?!?!!!!!!! Also another thing we were told is how much football (soccer) is an important thing here. I guess the mafia has a lot of money invested in the sport and one account told of a goalie who missed the final goal of the game and lost it for his team. The mafia had him killed because they said he threw the game. Now that’s taking sports a little too seriously. Then Lulu (he’s a young man just out of school. He’s going to university—I think—in hopes to keep out of the mandatory military service) was so upset when he told me about the new shoes he bought last week at Metro. They were 3,000,000lei ($30) when he bought them, but now they have been put on sale for 700,000lei ($20). This $10 is such a HUGE loss for him. Brother Nathan told us last night that this young man has made a list of things he wants to buy if he ever gets money. The first thing is a natural gas bottle for his Mother. The second was something nice for his girlfriend. The third was a can of corn. Can you believe that?!?!?!?!?! A can of corn to him is an extravagance. Oh the things we take for granted. I have been trying to figure out how these people even survive. There are some wealthy here, and for that the prices are high—about like America—even more sometimes for imported items. But most of the people are poor. The average salary is $40 per month. Their electric bill is more than that. I guess they put every able body to work to help make ends meet. They also do a lot of canning so they can make it through the winter. I am so spoiled!!!!!

Okay, now it’s the Friday after Thanksgiving. Yesterday we went to spend the holiday with the other Missionaries at the Children’s Home. We had a wonderful dinner by candlelight----not purposefully---they shut off the power to work on the lines. Sandy called me to tell me in advance. I said, “What?!?! Don’t they know it’s Thanksgiving?!?!?!?!?!!” She and I both laughed. They don’t recognize that American holiday. We did have a great time, though. The kids played outside for a short while but go too cold to stay out. It even snowed some. Then when they came in they pretended to be dinosaurs. Wonder who’s idea that was, Jonathan? Brother Nathan even walked on his hands for them. After a while, Monica got out her wedding pictures. They were so beautiful. This past summer she married Brother Mitko, national Pastor in Bulgaria. They are now expecting their first baby. They are sweet together. Eventually all the girls went back to the living room to talk “baby” talk while the men sat at the table and talked about whatever. It was starting to get pretty dark around 4. Finally the lights came on at 20 minutes to 5. Then they lost all water. It had been there a little up until that point, but they lost it completely. It’s still out today.

Speaking of today, Larry got to go for his first ride-along. He left with Brother Nathan this morning. First they planned to go get one of the ministry vans and tow it to town for radiator repair—Larry was nervous about that one. He has never driven in this kind of traffic, let alone steering a towed van. Then they were off to buy food and disperse it among the believers. One of the villages on the agenda was the “Believer’s village”. It is full of believers that were kicked out on Constanta in the attempt to “clean up” the city. I’m anxious to hear more about that visit. He said he would be gone all day, so the kids and I are doing a few things on our own. We just got back from taking out the trash and getting butter from the mini market. It cost 50,000 lei for two small squares of butter ($1.67). I even got a nap while the kids watched the Jungle Book two on our computer. Now I’m doing laundry---Oh let me tell you about doing laundry. Everything is miniature here, including my washing machine. It takes me three loads to get one American size load done. Laundry here is a never-ending battle, let me tell you.

Well, it’s Monday now and the landlord says she will come today to meet us and go with us to have our Internet turned on. We will see if she actually shows up. Also Dana said she or her husband will take us to pay our bills. That will accomplish a lot of our goals all in one day.

Yesterday after church we went with some of the missionaries to an Italian restaurant called “Scapino’s”. The food was delicious. I had lasagna. We all sat around discussing proper child rearing. Brother Ralph had a lot of practical suggestions. Near the end of the meal, I was asking Sandy about a language tutor for the children and me to possibly come to the house and teach us some Romanian. Larry asked Brother Ralph what he suggested for our tutor. He said that the best way for a missionary family to learn the language would be for them to live with a Romanian family and just pick it up. He knew that wasn’t practical for us with a family of our size. So he said I should hire a woman to come in that doesn’t speak any English and just have her talk to me. I have a book of words and she could help me learn how to properly say them. The kids could sit and listen and automatically pick it up. That makes me nervous, but I’m eager to get started. Dana recommended a woman—very friendly and talkative, loves kids, and would be patient with me. Brother Ralph said I should be open to correction by her when I say things wrong. He also said that now is the time to make mistakes. It’s expected—kind of like a small child learning a new thing. In five years, making silly grammar mistakes won’t be appreciated. I’m hoping to meet this woman soon. I think we will start with two days a week and than when Larry starts language school, I hope to have her come every time he goes. Brother Dave is checking in to a language school for Larry this week. He and I both are anxious to be able to clearly communicate with people. We don’t want to lean on an interpreter too much because it will make us lazy. Plus, who really wants to stand there looking like a big dummy when someone asks you a question. We have learned how to ask for butter and orange juice. The kids can even say it. Butter is “unt” and orange juice is “suc de portucale”. Learning is slow, but at least we are trying.

Wow!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Finally after almost four weeks here, we finally have a breakthrough!!!!!!!!! We have internet!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I can’t tell you haw wonderful this feels. Especially because yesterday I rode on my first elevator and was scared out of my mind. Then I get word that I may have to give up on my idea for the girls’ bed. And then I also met a woman who was a prospective tutor for language. I didn’t realize ahead of time that it would be like a poker game. She told me how much money she wanted. Then the interpreter looked at me and said, “Now it’s your turn. Now you tell me if this price is okay and if not, you give me your price.” I gave my price and she looked me in the eye and said it wasn’t enough. I felt like I was negotiating an international governmental deal. I told Larry I was Colin Powel with the ear piece in, sitting there with the quartet at the negotiations table. In the end, she gave her lowest price and I told her I would have to think about it. I hope she thinks I called her bluff. Then today I found out that our bunk beds are not being made even though we ordered them because of a misunderstanding----How could that happen? Did she not understand us? Ha ha ha.

Anyway, this is a wonderful thing having the internet at home. We even got to pay our bills and meet the landlord. Things are really starting to happen. Pray much for our language. I will keep updating from time to time. This one is just so long because it’s four weeks worth. The next one won’t be so long----I hope.

Love to All, Carrie

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