Autobiography continued

After the yearly conference in Honolulu, I was sent to Laie to work in the temple for the remainder of my mission. So many busloads of tourists came each day, and it would be my job to be one of the guides. The temple had friezes on all four sides depicting stories from the Bible, the Book of Mormon etc. In the evening there would be a session going through the temple. I would be taking a part and then helping at the veil. At church, I was to be ready to take over a class, or give a talk, without notice.

After church every Sunday evening, we missionaries, about eight of us, would attend a talk fest at the home of Anton R. Ivins. He was in charge of the Church Plantation. I thought he had a sweet job. He was furnished a nice home with help to do the housework and the grounds. He was given a new Packard or Cadillac to drive, whichever he preferred, two riding horses, each costing a thousand dollars, at that time, membership in the Country Club in Honolulu, to which he would go to play golf about three times a week. I don’t know about any other fringe benefits, but he had a nice life.

We missionaries had a house full of bedrooms to stay at and then took all our meals at the home of the Temple President, William Waddoups, next door. Here a professional cook prepared fancy meals three times a day for us. President Waddoups and his family lived there. We took turns with saying the morning and evening prayers, and had home evening programs, and would each quote a scripture before each meal. This was so much more delightful than arranging cottage meetings, tracting, walking from town to town, sleeping in a different bed almost each night, and all the rigors of ordinary missionary work. I enjoyed my stay there. The night before I came home, the members gave me a surprise party. There was singing and dancing and playing of instruments, and feasting, and occasional jokes, and, of course, I was called on to tell them how much I had enjoyed them and all of my mission.

Next morning I was driven to the pier at Honolulu, where five other missionaries were waiting to go home. I was also to be in charge of brother Frank Wooley’s mother, who was making the boat ride with us. Church members were on hand to deck us with leis and wave to us as we sailed out of the harbor. The Mission President was on had too, to tell us to become prominent in our wards and to tell us that we were supposed to be married within six months.

The going home ship was so beautiful, and every night a party. The ocean was smooth, the meals were perfect, and everyone was so pleasant.

There to meet us, as we landed, was a sister of Elder Olsen, who was coming home with us. She worked in San Francisco, and she took us on a big sightseeing trip of this fabulous city. That night we boarded a Union Pacific train to go to Salt Lake City. We arrived at eleven o’clock. No one was on hand to meet me. I waited over half an hour, and then took a streetcar home. No one was home, but a neighbor lady, whom I didn’t know, asked me to come in her house to wait for mother to return. She said that mother had gone to meet me. She had gone to the wrong depot.