One Minute Made the Difference

Steven C., Michigan, USA

missionary and mother at airport

Illustration by Brooke Smart

Forty-five minutes after boarding the plane that would take me to Dallas, where I would meet with other missionaries en route to the Brazil MTC, we had yet to leave the gate. Finally the pilot came over the speaker and told us the plane had a mechanical problem that would take 15 minutes to fix. We were taken off the plane so work could begin.

Fifteen minutes soon turned into three hours. With each passing hour I began to worry I would miss my next layover, and I’d have to fly to Brazil alone, not knowing a word of Portuguese and running the risk of having nobody there to pick me up.

I started to get scared. I knew I was doing the right thing going to Brazil to serve a mission, but why couldn’t it go smoothly? Why was this happening?

I called my house from a pay phone. With tears in my eyes I asked my mom to contact the Church’s travel office to tell them I would miss my flight in Dallas. I wanted so badly to ask her to make the drive down to the airport to pick me up. I caught myself thinking, “Maybe I can leave for my mission next week.” But I knew that wasn’t the right thing, so I held my tongue. It was hard to say goodbye and hang up the phone.

I sat there for a second trying to collect myself, and I turned around. Just then a woman passed by me, holding her little boy’s hand. She saw my name tag and immediately stopped.

“Elder! Are you coming home or just leaving for the field?”

I told her I was just leaving, and with a smile she told me her little boy looked up to us missionaries. She wished me luck and left.

I don’t even know her name, but that conversation of less than one minute gave me the strength I needed to continue. It is one of the most memorable tender mercies I have experienced. I knew God was aware of me. He wanted me to do this—and I knew that I could.