Missionary Training Center

Hey all, Sister Luthy's sister here. I was lucky enough to be able to take her into the MTC today. Here are some thoughts I had on that.

My kid sister started her mission today. She will be serving the people of Chicago for the next 18 months. We're all so very proud of her!

She arrived in Provo this morning at 11. Our Aunt and Uncle (not the pair I got to hang out with in Jerusalem) drove her down, then took us out to eat as Sizzler. The funniest part of the whole ordeal was when all four of us ordered salad. Sheesh — had I known that was going to happen I would have suggested a salad place. Oh well! After lunch Aunt and Uncle took off and Midge and I headed to the Missionary Training Center (MTC).

As I drove up I was directed to kick her, and her luggage, out of the car. I mean, we unloaded her so she could take her luggage to the appropriate spot while I parked. We met up, as directed, in front of the building. We took a few pictures before going inside. She got her name badge, then joined me. Apparently, since she had family with her I got to put the badge on. As I clipped it to her lapel I commented on her "dork-dot".

"Basically!" She laughed.

"No," I said, "That's what they call it!"

"Oh."

We went inside the chapel for the service. We sang "Call to Serve" and she started crying. I am so proud of her! After the song we had a prayer, then one of the Branch Presidents and his wife each gave a talk. Hers was titled, "It's All About Love." The general gist was that those going on missions were exhibiting a lot of love, and those staying behind were showing it as well. She talked about the sacrifice required for both groups.

After the speakers we watched a movie on missionary service. That's when Midge really lost it. She started bawling, in true girl fashion. After the meeting we stood up to say our good-byes. Missionaries go out one door, family goes out another. We hugged each other. Then I said that she should head out. She didn't want to go. Poor girl. Then, one of the Elders left and I said to her, "That 19 year-old boy just showed you up. You wanna be shown up by a 19 year old boy?"

"Yeah. I don't care."

We talked for a little longer, hugging good-bye. Another boy finally extracted himself from the family. I said to her, "Well, Midge, someone's gotta be next." She slowly turned and left. I watched go out the door — so proud of the choices that she has made in her life to get her to this point. She didn't look back. I'm glad.

She's going to have a good mission. I just know it.