A Labor of Love ❤

Carissimi,

I will miss Thanksgiving festivities with you this week, and surely my Turkey Bowl overall rating will suffer for the 2nd straight no-show, (relegating me to at best a 3rd or 4th round selection behind superstars like Abraham "Lenny" Toronto, and Kate "Cam Fig Newton" Toronto, he might still have an edge over Lonzo "Sticky Fingers" Torontino, and Hingle McCringleberry). Yet as I reflected on that for which I am truly thankful, I felt overwhelmed with the love I have for this mission, and the gratitude I have to my Father in Heaven for giving me the chance to learn and grow in his Italian Vineyard. It truly is and has been, a labor of love, as the apostle Paul calls it, and as the sun sets on what is one of my last P-days, I wanted to share with you a few things I've come to love, and have loved about my time as a missionary.

I love President and Sorella Pickerd. They have been both instrumental and fundamental in my spiritual growth, and have been stalwart examples of love, diligence, perseverance, faith, and humility. I will dearly miss learning from them and interacting with these two Christlike leaders.

I love my companions, every one. Each has taught me a different attribute of Christ, and in our service we have become brothers in Christ. They have taught me to be patient with those closest to you, to repent, forgive and forget, to love unconditionally, to work hard and use the time allotted us, to enjoy what you're doing, and love the people we're serving. They have lifted me up when I was down, even if often I was to prideful to thank them for it, or allow them to help more, independent as I am. They have endured countless hours of Anziano Toronto's favorite hymns, belted at the top of his lungs, and some even joined in to augment the music. They have taught me a love for study, and knowledge. They have instructed me on the doctrine of christ both in companionship study and in example. I dearly love each companion I have been given.

I love the Italians. I love my Italian brothers and sisters, but maybe more than anything my Italian mothers, fathers and grandparents. They have treated me as family, and filled me up with enough pasta to last a lifetime. They allowed me to teach and learn from them. They opened their homes, and hearts, and welcomed in an American stranger. They taught me their language, and forgave my mistakes, though hardly missed a chance to help me be better. I love their verve, they are gregarious to a fault, and I will forever miss their hands. My friends, they speak an entirely different, perfect language with their hands. I will miss the signs that say, "don't speak to the driver," which hang above train and bus drivers, often engaged in passionate conversations with passengers. I will always love them, each of them, even those who despitefully used me, or persecuted me. Those who wagged a finger as I tried to share the gospel I've come to love. I love their faith in Christ. I love the love they so freely gave me, their long lost figliolo prodigo.

I love finding, sharing with the elect and non-elect alike, the buona novella. I love their tradition, and only wish their forefathers had been a little less liberal in their interpretation of the scriptures, or in the determination of doctrine and belief. Again their faith, even if sometimes misplaced, is formidable, that often results in miracles. I love being rejected and persecuted for Christ's sake. I appreciate the strength I've developed in thousands of no's received, and the joy obtained in the yes' likewise given. I love the honest seeker of truth.

I love teaching, expounding, and exhorting all to come unto Christ, regardless of skin color, heritage, personal belief, origin and creed. I love sharing to me what has been freely given, and the truths revealed to ancient and modern day prophets. I am grateful for the testimony, borne to me by the Spirit, that the work I've been engaged in is true, and of God. I love bearing that testimony, and seeing the Spirit work in others through me.

I love the Book of Mormon. I devour it's truths daily. As I read it I am called to repentance and obedience. I am exhorted to believe in Christ and to strive to become like him. I love the witness I have received that it is true. I offer you that witness. It is true, every word.

and, I love each of you... Distance makes the heart grow fonder, and nowhere does that apply more that in my heart. I love you, and I love that we will see one another shortly, yet I love that I have three more weeks in his service. May God bless each of you to love deeper, speak sweeter, and express your gratitude, until we meet again.

All my love,

Anziano Toronto II ❤🇮🇹