#MissionaryStoryMonday: Judging and Horchata

My first area on the mission was in this small little village in the middle of the desert. There was nothing going on there and the largest body of water was the baptismal font. It was also a very poor part of the country and most of the people lived in mud brick houses.

I still remember my first Sunday in the field as my companion and I were out visiting some of our investigators. We went to visit this one older lady and her children and their home was more humble than most. She offered us some horchata (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Horchata) which in that part of Mexico was a warm mix of rice, milk, and cinnamon. Its is extremely tasty.

This particular woman made the horchata and raw cinnamon sticks which she left in the drink itself. Being very naive and not recognizing it as such, I thought it was a twig from a tree that she had used to stir it since she didn't have a spoon. I dutifully drank my horchata and covertly threw the "twig" outside while no one was looking.

Some months later I was serving in another area, this time in the city and in a pretty well to-do part of the region. This guys weren't rich or anything, but they had cement homes and could easily support their families. So I was much surprised to find that one day one of the families served us horchata and there was the "twig" again! It couldn't be! This was a well-off family who didn't need twigs to stir.

I shared these observations with my companion after we left and boy did I feel embarrassed. He explained to me that this "twig" was actually a raw cinnamon stick that I didn't recognize, because truthfully, I had never seen one before. It taught me an invaluable lesson though about judging people unfairly and keeping an open mind because you don't necessarily know everything (only Heavenly Father does).