[At least once a month, and sometimes more often, President George D. Durrant of the Kentucky Tennessee Mission from 1972 to 1975 would write a message to all of the missionaries. He called such messages 'Newsletters'. This is one of them.]


On my wall is the big chart that holds each of your pictures. To look at the whole board is confusing. It's just a sea of faces. But when my eyes focus upon you—just you—I have a feeling of love sweep through me.

Oh, how often I have wished I could be your companion! We'd really get them—you and I. We'd be the two best average missionaries here. We'd goof off, but only when the time was right. We'd bear testimony to each other. We'd study (but you'd have to help me because I'm not as smart as some). We'd go looking for people each morning. Sometimes we'd feel a little discouraged, but we'd go out anyway. We'd love the members and they'd know it. We'd act in such a way that they'd say, "Don't let the president ever move you two."

We'd teach some great discussions and a few that weren't so great. Sometimes we'd really teach by the Spirit. We'd be good friends with the bishop or branch president. He'd like us a lot. We'd write to each other's parents and encourage them. I'd write to your girl friend.

We'd eat pretty well, especially pancakes. We'd be sort of self-starters. We'd both want to become successful. We'd get a little discouraged if that didn't happen, but we'd keep working hard anyway.

Then one day you'd get transferred. I'd help you pack. You'd tell people good-bye and they'd cry. I'd wonder if people loved me as much as they did you. We'd go the bus. We'd shake hands and I'd feel like crying.

"I'll see you," I'd say. "Remember, we're going to room together at college. And remember at my wedding you'll be my best man." Then you'd go.

I'd go home and wait in the apartment. At 3:45 another bus would come into town. This time another one of you would come into town and we'd start all over. Just you and me—companions.

I love you, my companions. Together we'll be what we ought to be.

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