Gassumu's palace

About the end of October we were in the Kissy chapel and were introduced to Gassumu Koroma who is about 19 years old and a fine individual in his own right.

He invited us to come to his home and teach him suggesting first that we might be more comfortable just teaching him in the chapel. I responded, "naah, we'd feel better just coming to see you and teaching you there." "How bad can it be?, I asked myself.

We drove to Newcastle street which would have been something to behold in the good old colonial days with its bridges and estates set back in off the street and actual asphalt down on the road. Now only the remnants can be seen of it's salad days, only just enough to be enticing and to make one wonder what it must have looked like.

We parked on the dirt road that the boys swore would get dusty before too many months. The rains were coming to an end and had washed the road down to what I thought looked like bare rock. "There's no way this can get dusty," I scoffed. "There's no dirt for the dust to come from."

We unloaded and walked down along side the wild and crazy Muslim school just getting out of session, through broken glass and brick and over open little drainage ditches and assorted debris. Gassumu led us into a fine cement three or maybe four story building that would be condemned from the sidewalk and blown up that afternoon anywhere else.

We ducked our heads and went inside saying "Gud mornin" to the inhabitants of each doorway where they were cooking or washing themselves or their possibles. The open sewer coming from the building isn't visible in this photo since we are much into the interior here but the fine stairway looms large directly in front of the camera, each step slanting downward and usually slippery.

Water is simply tossed over the edge so everything is perpetually damp inside. We found it important to walk under the roof and not out in the open for obvious reasons.

When we first went up I asked myself, "how's this going to look in the report?" The last time we went up I asked myself, "now how's it going to look?"

This picture simply shows the moss growing from the side of the building and the absolute horror of a building that it is. I don't think a movie set could be made to duplicate the textures and details of which you are able to see a few.

You can look up and see three or four floors above where I took the picture. I had to be very cautious because people are easily offended if they see a white man and his white wife in their nice white clothes taking pictures of the place where they climb out of bed in the morning.

This is a picture of Umu and now I've forgotten her last name who lives just down the hallway from where we set up with Gassumu to teach him. She is a feisty Muslim lady with a bad limp who we got to know pretty well over the months while we were teaching and afterwards.

The first time we came to teach her little daughter found a stick and circled around Sister Neves and kept trying to poke her with it until Umu finally ran her off.

I was looking for an excuse to take pictures of people and doing so hoped to get background photos but when I asked Umu if she and I could have a picture together she said, "sure, if you want to marry me and take me back to America." In the beginning she liked to mildly give Sister Neves and I a bad time speaking to us in Mende which we absolutely don't understand as if Krio didn't present enough of a challenge to us.

I like Umu because she is so full of feisty and makes no bones about taking care of herself. I'm not sure how she does it. She can't work, her husband is dead, and she has no relatives living in Freetown. She developed a bone disease of some sort that deteriorated her hip and makes her barely able to walk.

She has some slight hope that a Mercy Ship or Doctors Without Borders ship might be able to do something for her but without someone to hurry her into the water when it stirs nothing is going to happen in time to save her. I don't like her chances because the government has no interest of ability to help her and sooner or later she'll simply die because she'll wear out.

She's holding my little song book even though she can't read and preparing to sing I Am A Child Of God with us. She lives about four doors down just behind where she's sitting. Her daughter sits on her lap and the crowd we always draw sit behind her on the stairs going up.

Just a lovely view of the third floor and the one above. We've never gone beyond our corner on the second floor because we've never had a reason to go anywhere else. I suppose I could say, "Gassumu, would you be able to just show us around so we can take some photos to send back home to amuse our family?

S

We set up our teaching post right in the corner with a fine view of everything and everybody. The little feller with the bucket full of water runs up and down the stairs without so much as looking where he is headed.

The pictures were poorly chosen and poorly positioned in this posting but I refuse to start all over again. I know they all look the same, I'm sorry.

Down the hallway to the right you will notice a girl leaning against the outside wall. That's where Umu lives. Her cooking is done outside about where the girl is standing and her washing and just about everything else. You sleep and store things in your house and cook and do everything else outside of the place where you sleep and store things.

Gassumu is on the left, the Samuel Kanu, Albert Sesay, Elder Neves, and finally Peter Vandi Bassie Junior who has left us to be a branch missionary for another few weeks.

Behind us you'll see a hole in the wall. That is one of the most interesting holes in a wall you'll ever meet. It is divided into two levels just beyond the hole and those going up one floor will crawl onto the upper cement pad and those doing down just a little will duck onto the lower pad. I think the two buildings were put together separately and the floors simply didn't match up when it was all done. So you just knock a hole in the wall and leave the hanging slab to change floors.

There is an interesting nook just behind Albert's head where personal bathing is done. Men and ladies of all sizes and shapes come toward that corner with a towel generally wrapped around themselves and are carrying a bucket of water. Minutes later they'll emerge all wet and shiny and will toss the water that remains down onto the floor level. I usually try to face the nook in order to make sure I can keep track of what is happening in all areas of the building in case we might have to protect ourselves.

Musa Kanu, Samuel's brother is visible on the left and Peter and Gassumu. A fine lady is just beginning her entrance into the hole floor changing unit that I just described.

The only saving part of the construction is its workmanship and the quality of the materials used when the building too place.

Peter Vandi Bassie Jr, Samuel Kanu, Gassumu Koroma, Albert Sesay, and Elder Neves. About now Sister Neves is saying, "And folks will say where were you Mom?"

We always have a kneeling prayer as we leave the meeting. Sister Neves had us just bow our heads for the picture. Those of you purists shouldn't be offended by the blasphemy of it all.

And there's our corner, freshly painted. Gassumu warned us that morning to watch for the wet paint. Someone had complained and a notice was tacked onto a wall on the inside of the building. There was a little paint dabbed here and there and then it all faded away and was forgotten.

We never did know who lived in the door just behind us or from where Gassumu got the chairs. They're not his for sure and not Umu's. We actually block two separate families as we sit in this spot always set up for us before we arrived.

We always kneel to pray wherever we are and among whomever we're among. The society here in Sierra Leone is the most tolerant of societies. We have never been interrupted nor heckled in all the time we've knelt in prayer sometimes right in the middle of a small crowd.

We also sing before our opening prayer and once again as we prepare to close. Those songs have likewise never been interrupted in any way. Sometimes the people will gather and sing along a little as they listen to us, especially the children.

An then it's on our way down those stairs that never look any easier. Mom is always on someone's arm and I'm always on top in case I fall. I'll have everyone else to fall onto if I slip.

Coming To The End Of The Dry Season

So for this time I'm just tossing in some photos randomly and talking about the origin and what they mean to us and to me. There's no theme except for live in West Africa. I'll get back to a theme next time I undertake a posting project.

First you take a little rice grown locally or imported from China or India or Thailand. Rice is eaten with everything. Nothing gets eaten without rice underneath.

Then there are a few options, potato leaf which is cut, cassava leaf with is pounded, and my favorite, ground nut stew, also pounded. Now most people know what I like so when we go by and they want to feed us, there it is staring me in the face, waiting.

All of the gravies I've described above and a dozen more are mixed with very hot peppers and various other spices and some fish or fish heads and maybe a little chicken rarely and sometimes some cow meat.

I'm including this picture because Jared just sent me a letter telling me the calves are doing fine even though we're running out of hay in this wet spring. When I saw this little platter as we visited the Fayombos, I got homesick for my cows when they get on new green grass.

You'll notice Finda's little black fingers on the side of the bowl. Most of the eating is done with your little cupped fingers. You never have to worry what you did with the darned old spoon. When we are invited we are always given a spoon but occasionally for fun I'll let the spoon lie and use the hand.

We were watching for the rest of our baptismal candidates from the Kissy chapel on the third floor where we continue to worship. We look out on the old Kissy Road which is one of the two main routes through the east side of the capitol city.

Last week I showed a few people toting their loads but this week I couldn't pass up the sight of this steady headed lady with all her eggs. She made nary a wobble as she walked along the road.

I'm going to attempt to name the Ngegba family members you'll be seeing in the two pictures that follow. Sister Neves and Pete, our main man, are both on the right side of the photo, your right side. Further back and seated are President Ngegba and his wife.

The Ngegba's are going to the temple for the first time at the end of April. Daniela is leaning against President Ngegba's knee. She's always into mischief and causing trouble but in a cute way. She always has a big smile from ear to ear and giggles at everything. Katimu takes care of her and I think she's her little sister.

Kadiatu is directly in the center of the photo and doorway and holding her little son Robert. She's not married nor has she been. She was baptized on the 9th of April along with Katimu on her right and Mariama further to the right against the wall.

Katimu is Mariama's aunt and Mariama is Prince Ngegba's wife's sister's daughter.

Little Howa Josephene is sitting right in front of President Ngegba. They call her Howa Yu and as far as people are concerned that is her name, Howa Yu.

Safa is right in front and Mohamed on the floor  and there's Frances Kai Kai Momoh who we baptized a couple of months ago in the doorway along with Sudi and a dozen or more stretching into the sunlight as intent as can be.

We're playing, To This End Was I Born, the DVD of Jesus Christ's death and resurrection on my computer. All eyes were riveted as you can see to the screen.

Young Prince Ngegba is now visible on the left side in this photo taken a minute later and my little favorite Aminata Neves is in front almost as close to the screen as you can get. Abdul, Sister Neves' absolute favorite is further to the left with his hand on his cheek.

We usually teach outside right against the little stream under the mango trees but because we wanted to watch the DVD we came inside this newly erected mud brick room so they could see the screen. This will also give you an idea of what the insides of the homes are like although some will plaster the walls with cement.

The Ngegba's, all twenty five of them inside and out, continue to be fascinated with the DVD. This was such a gratifying moment. With my little camera at my side folks generally are not even aware that I'm taking a picture. I always carry attached for safety on a leather shoe lace around my neck and in a little belt pouch.

This is above the Ngegba country that I've just described where we watched the DVD. Mom and Pete are coming on down after teaching Solomon's sister Isata. The road is still impassible because there is not bridge across a little wash out and stream further down the road.

We walked the hillside to come to Solomon's home but then found ourselves in a little trouble trying to come off the hillside down to the road. The neighborhood had been working on the road to make it ready for motocar but they failed to preserve or reinstall steps down to the road suitable for old white people.

We just had to jump down off small steps cut into the bank but they were not much help. After I hit the road I just about lost it because of the incline even though Pete was there with a hand. I held Sister Neves' hand and Pete helped her from below and it was done with Sister Neves.

All of the road work on the still unusable road has been done absolutely by hand with a pick and shovel and nothing mechanical. I'd hate to take the truck even when the bridge is in but I think it could be done.

The man with the sticks just walked down off the top of the mountain where he's collected them to make a few cents to be able to feed the family. The sticks must weigh a couple of hundred pounds but he was cheerful and happy to speak to us for a minute about what he'd been doing and where he'd come from with the sticks, which is close to where the mission home is located.

These homes have all been built without the help of trucks or tractors or anything mechanical. Everything has been carried up by hand well beyond the point where you can see the road fade into the distance which is the closest delivery point for materials.

When we came down Adama, Kadiatu, and Mohamed were here pretending to be sleeping so they could  scare me as I went by. The little sweethearts have as much fun in their hearts as any of my grandchildren at home.

They always call out to us and run and hold our hands as we walk on down another half hour to the truck. The truck could be driven almost to this point but we don't because we feel it creates a bad impression. We just park way down below and walk and see the people and they us.

The grandma whose feet you can see sits here and today was making little bundles of tabaca for chewing  which she sells for little pennies for food. She is always bundling something or doing something to make a little money, never idle. Her husband was coming from the mosque and I met and hugged him just after taking this picture.

The house pictured shelters all twelve members of the extended family and occasionally I'll see someone new who will stay for a day or two.

Elder Neves cared for by Gibril and Agusta live directly across the road from from this picture was taken. I wish there were a way to bring Adama and Kadiatu home with us when we leave in seven and a half months.

This is Sister Neves and my church benches on the side of the chapel where the children all cluster and join us. Sometimes they are a little noisy but generally very good. Albert is sitting on the end with his head bowed and Ali is speaking to him. Albert's sister is next to him. I'll name all the children in the next day or so.

We went to see Helen and Charles and the happy family on Mt. Aureol and while there the kids said, "We just had two little babies born. Would you like to go see them"? These two ladies had just given birth in the night.

They were sitting up for the picture and for us and I told them to lie back down. They were doing so as I snapped the photo.

Me acting silly and showing the good shirt now worn out and torn and holey after being used and washed regularly. I'll write some more about this and where this is taken.

As you can see I have to do my own laundry. This is on the hill in Mount Aureol by the house where the babies were born as shown in the earlier picture.

Finally a picture of your new grandfather.This is the man who joined us at the Stevenson's compound and was so taken with Sister Neves after we advised the people and prayed. Read the Especially for Little Young Neves letter for more information about this photo.

You can see the bombed out stair case to the right and remnants of the fence in the back. Sister Neves enjoyed this moment more than she shows, the little wild devil.

I recently wrote to the family about the nativity sets I'd like to bring home to the seven families. You'll note the figures with the red wood and the brown lighter wood on the left. I'll just get some of the lighter wood and some of the red wood unless I hear from each of you about your specific preference.

The things they carry

Since the day we arrived in Sierra Leone ten months and some days ago I've been fascinated with the volume of freight in this country that is hauled above the eyebrows. I'll show you the variety of all that is carried in a subsequent post. Today I'll just show some of the interesting and extra-ordinary scenes we see as we walk and drive the streets and trails in Freetown.

These boys carry these bags of sand straight up the hill that we can barely crawl. They hurry up, empty their bag and as quickly, come down for another load until the pile is moved. They are paid about two dollars a day for their work. Since their are no roads to the building sites, only trails, entire houses are built on the backs of young men like these.

I noticed these three little girls high up on the hill above the university. This was shortly after we got here and had time to do such things as drive around and explore. I stopped and asked them to ask if we could snap their photo.

I did and told them thank you. The eldest girl gave a little condescending smile and politely said, "thank you", turned and went on her way up the hill.

Carrying six pans of charcoal on ones head and two might seem difficult but it is a common sight here in Freetown. She never touches the pans to steady them. Passersby will help a vendor lift the loads back on their heads when the occasion arises and something is sold.

Big Ali, the Looking Town body building bum, carried this television on his head from way down below where the trucks and cars can come. He's a little weird but likes me and Mom likes him too, a lot. He used to run away and hide from us, we'd catch a glimpse of him out of the corner of the eye, he'd flash by on the only bicycle on the hill, until finally I cornered him.

I said, "Ali, I don't want to convert you to anything. I'd just like to shake hands and be your friend." Since then he's been my pal. He is marvelously well built and muscled for sure. Peter and Albert flank him to take advantage of the photo op.

The Sierra Leonean liquid world is moved in these yellow five gallon buckets from water to fuel to palm oil. Everything moves in the yellow rubbers as they are called. Poda poda's are stacked to the sky with them and men and ladies move them around on their little old heads. This man is carrying a lighter load than what we usually see. A heathy man or boy will often carry one five gallon rubber on his head and another in each hand.

Now we'll just go with cute and start with Janet carrying a bucket on her head for the pure enjoyment of it all. She lives in the compound with Anita and the twins. Janet belongs to someone there, Anita one pillar down on the right. Janet is precocious and loved by everyone but even though I've known them all for eight months I've never know exactly who gave birth to the little thing. She'll often come in with Anita and the kids and sing, I Am A Child Of God along with everyone else.

Alusine who is Adama's cousin and Musu's nephew always joins us but refuses to sit in the middle where we can see him. He is serious and usually naked as a little jay bird. He's here returning his bucket seat to its rightful spot after we finished doing the teaching. He has on a dark pair of shorts.

Adama carrying the bench and Alusine his can seat.

Two cute girls with pots on their heads

Doing the washing for Mom

Mom telling everybody that its all a  piece of cake. Anyone can do it she said.

Mom was right. She's got it balanced and looking steady as a rock. Good job Mom!

The little children shine

A couple of months ago the branch president handed us a list of names of those children over nine years of age who belong to member families but haven't yet been baptized. We arranged to track these young Saints and determine the status of each and whether any would like to be taught the gospel of Jesus Christ.

The teaching that resulted has afforded us some of the finest times of our ten months here in West Africa.
We found seven children ranging from thirteen years of age to nine and taught many younger children in the process.

It is no revelation that teaching young children is a whole different ball game entirely. We have tried many new ideas and techniques and the results, I think, have been admirable. The children are quite well prepared and excited about their baptisms all scheduled for 9:30 AM on the 26th day of March, 2011.

Sister Neves said, "you are crazy to plan so much for one day". The Sunday, a week ago, when the children were all interviewed, plainly showed that Sister Neves was correct on that advice and I was too late to adopt her suggestion.

It began early enough with a 5:30 wake up so we could get to the east side and make sure the children were in the Wellington chapel in time for all that had to be done before 10:30. We rehearsed it with them two days earlier. "when are you going to be ready to leave your house, Seibatu? Sharp eight", was always the answer. "Gbassey? Sharp eight!  Tamgba? Sharp eight".

Sharp eight thirty Adama, Seibatu, and Marian came roaring up on two motakas to join the other five who just barely arrived at the Kissy chapel. Just like that with eight directions to go wrong we were all gathered and ready to go get baptized.                                                                                    

Samuel Kanu, mom's original shepherd was assigned the Mosarray's three girls just to go by and see that they got away on time and it worked very well. I was a little surprised to see them on the motorcycles without an adult escort but it wasn't worth a comment from the girls..

Seibatu is from the provinces, Adama is belongs to President Mossary's daughter who lives in the provinces, and Marian is a niece whose family cannot provide an education so they sent her to the city to give the president the opportunity. One time we were teaching the three little sweethearts and Seibatu hadn't yet made her appearance. The girls always washed and changed into some clean dresses for our visits. From the open window I heard President Mossary scold Seibatu and say, "Yu na bad mortalman"!

The idea that she is a bad human is so far from our perception that although poignant it was hilarious at the same time. She came out with tears in her eyes but we managed to take care of the hurt in about thirty seconds and she was just fine.


Uncle Sahr Fomba was assigned to bring the Fomba three, Gbessay, Sia, and Tamba who rounded out the eight children. Are these not the sweetest looking boys and girls you could imagine?

We all used a little public transportation and came together again at the chapel in Wellington where the baptismal font resides. Samuel had just made a remark about me being in his way so I helped him out even further. me for getting in his way. You got your Julius Rowe, Samuel Kanu, Elder Neves, Peter Vandi Bassie Jr, Albert Sessay, President Prince Ngegba, Matta Mossary, Ali Kamara, Peter Bassie Sr., Ruggiatu Bassie, Peter's cousin, Sister Neves, and Massa Mossary. I think I named the children enough times already.

Peter Bassie was assigned three candidates, Sahr Fomba three, and I baptized Marian and Seibatu which was a joy. We are shown below sorting through the white clothing. Sister Neves and I have now accumulated enough of our own clothing to handle an easy dozen from enormous ladies to tiny children. We borrowed clothing the first time but decided we didn't like that way one little bit. Four dollars each seems like a bargain to have your own white things in the back room whenever you need them.

I said, "turn around kids so I can snap your photo," and only Sia did. The children are all going back to the old dressing rooms with Matta Mossary to get there clothes on their backs. The rooms are a little bit of a mess but at least its not out in the open air.

I was going to apologize and say I'm sorry the faces are so black but that is probably because the faces are so black and healthy looking and not so pasty white like some older fat white people I might point out in the photo. Sahr Fomba is the man on the extreme left.

Elder Massey is shown here helping little Sister Adama out of the font and back to a waiting towel. Peter Bassie is shown in the font waiting for Prince Ngegba to make his way over to Elder Massey. The water is cool and deep and just right for the day and for the event.

Now Marian has been all baptized and being helped out by Elder Massey who works in Wellington. Elder Jenkins from Star Valley is shown on the other end of the font. I'm about ready to climb out with my work all done. The water came almost up to the chin of these littlest ones. A little dip of the head and neck was all that was needed. I think I enjoyed baptizing these two little ones almost as much as I did my own a long time ago. These little sweet spirits moments away from heaven renew my spirit and make me think that maybe all is right with the world after all.

We found our way back to the Kissy chapel and then did a little quick head count and sort before taking the lighter ones on up to Looking Town for their school sports at Fonday Field, much bigger program than BYU basketball any day.

President Ngegba and Peter Bassie Senior are in the back and in the front you'll find Adama, Mohamed, Marian, Prince, and Seibatu. The little guy in the back with the yellow shirt is a stray and the wall in the back is the wall surrounding the famous Fonday Field. The gate on the right opens into a compound where a dozen people make their home.

The Muslim school is to the left and not visible. This is where we usually park the truck before we begin the long trek to the homes up in Looking Town.

Sister Neves and I were on the program as the chief patrons and as the chairman I was asked to give the opening remarks.

Sister Neves and I were listed as Chief Patrons in the program for the sports event. I am not sure how much that might end up costing. I was also listed as chairman and asked to give a few opening remarks. I did my best to encourage them to run and jump and play and told the audience of thousands that I used to play with Michael Jordan. I thought I acquitted myself well given the circumstances and the surroundings.

You'll note my body guards, Ali, Samuel, and Albert who are there in case anything goes awry. As a matter of fact, toward evening I imagine two thousand men, women, and children had gathered to just be a part of the thing I imagine. Francis, who we baptized a month ago, got into an altercation with someone whom he accused of stealing a phone. I noted him back behind our seats taking off his shirt and getting ready for blows and asked Samuel and Albert to go make sure it didn't happen.

They collared Francis and calmed him down and prevented the ugly scene from continuing its ugliness. They sat there behind us for four hours while Sister Neves and I were treated like royalty. I did, however, mention to Sister Neves on the way home that their stock took a pretty good jump today.

We maintained the prize seats of honor under the blue tarp and a good fish sandwich and a warm soda pop. About every half hour the master of ceremonies mentioned Elder and Sister Neves in some context or another. I will have trouble adjusting to being a common ordinary citizen when we get home.

I hated to leave but four hours under the blue tarp in the full gaze of the Looking Town sports world gave us all the public exposure we needed, so we called it good.

I turned the camera around and made one final shot or two for our posterity. Everyone was there at the field. At two o clock there might have been five hundred but now two or three thousand and more coming would be a reasonable estimate of the crowd.

We found ourselves going from a little bit of heaven to a little bit of Babylon. I'm sure something good will come from both extremes.

Elder Augustine Neves Kamara- They call him Elder

Elder Augustine Neves Kamara was born to Gibril Kamara who is a prominent Muslim in the little hilltop community of Looking Town, Kissy, Freetown, Sierra Leone, West Africa. Gibril serves as the unofficial medical advisor for the loosely knit collection of homes carved into the hillside.

Of the hundreds of homes, only about a dozen or two are accessible by car if conditions are good and another two dozen can be reached on a motor bike. When a home is built, laborers shovel a landing out of the hillside and then haul sand and cement and block and any other materials from the closest access point to the almost impassible road.

Gibril runs an unofficial drug store and treats the local people for their various ailments even though he is not licensed to do so but is a nurse. He has an extra bed or two if the need arises to keep someone for a day or more to care for them.

Augusta, his wife, is a Christian and listens to us. She likes to go to the local born again church five minutes from their home. That church has no lights and no amendments except for rough benches but it is close and loud during their services.

Two years ago these folks lost a little boy to some disease that probably would be treatable in the clinic back home. She was pregnant when we first met her and gave birth to this little boy at the end of November, 2010.

I thought it was time to show you just what Elder Neves, the Younger looks like. I've talked about the little guy a few times in our letters. We go by and make sure he's still doing well four or five times a week. He's growing up and responding when we make faces at him and act silly.

Gibril and Augusta asked us to give him a name and blessing and then said the name should be Elder Neves. Augusta, I think, took Gibril aside the night before we came and told Gibril how it was going to be with Augustine in there just in case they didn't want to be reminded of Elder Neves some time down the line.

Its been a long since he received his blessing and now I need to start documenting his stages a little bit better. I was going to show him being breast fed but thought better of the idea.

He's almost crawling around now but this most protected and pampered baby I've known here in Africa where the babies grow up quickly, often on their own, is carried everywhere he goes, mostly like Augusta is carrying him in the picture that follows.

I'm thinking of bringing him home with us when we come. Wes, will you start a college and mission fund for Elder Neves right away?

Doesn't he look like me just a little bit. The hair perhaps or the little cute nose? Maybe the eyes?

The next thing I want to do a bit on the Fayombo family and particularly these two little girls.

Finda and Lilian about nine and eleven

I I Also I wanted to show you the black girl that is threatening to break up our marriage. Her name is Balu but folks just refer to her as that black girl. See Pete and Mom in the background. This was during the filming of the lost boys by the Undermine.

She's already pushing  mom away but I'm fighting it as much as I am able. You won't get away with it, Little Girl!

This little girl is my other favorite, little Aminata Neves, my latest little darling. 

I will soon do a piece on her family and their baptisms.

This last photo is also a teaser showing Peter acting like a bad man in charge of Spirit Prison or maybe its the Telestial Kingdom welcoming Adama in. Notice her blue body recently acquired. Mom figured out a fine way to teach the youngsters the plan of salvation. Adama couldn't stop giggling and acting scared to death when he'd growl at her like he's doing.