For Christmas, we wrote up some more stories to add to my mom and dad's Tender Mercies book. This is one that Jonathon wrote about an experience that happened on his mission:
And the hearts of the children will be turned to their fathers…
By Jonathon Hill
When I was called to the Porto Alegre South Mission in Brazil, I admit I was not very excited. At the time, I wanted to prove that I was different from my dad; I was my own person. To get called to the same country where he served was, frankly, a little bit of a disappointment. At least it was a different part of the country.
As I was preparing to leave, I realized that I didn’t know very much about my dad’s mission. A naturally reserved person, he rarely talked about it. I knew very little about the country or its people. However, my grandma often told a story about how she, an elementary school teacher, had scrimped and saved to buy him a really nice Minolta camera to take with him. The camera was the top of the line, and she wanted to send him with the best. When he returned from his mission, she immediately asked about it, and he casually told her he had given it to “some Brazilian.” She was shocked he would give away her precious gift as if he didn’t care. We grew up hearing about the famous camera and my dad’s carelessness or generosity, depending on who you asked. Little did I know that my call would set me on a path to make an unexpected connection with my dad that, through small and simple means, would fundamentally change how I viewed my relationship with him.
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About 12 months into my mission, I was called to serve as the mission financial secretary and moved to the mission offices. Next door was the regional church facilities office. One day, I went over to talk to one of the employees and ran into the head of the office, Brother Arndt. He looked at my tag, and asked,
“Elder Hill, have any of your relatives served in Brazil?”
Hill is a common name, so I was sure he was thinking of some unrelated individual that had served in the mission.
I tried to brush it off, “Yeah, my dad, but it has been a long time.”
“What years?”
He had to be thinking of someone else, my dad didn’t serve in Porto Alegre, and he must not be understanding how long ago.
“1974-1976, and it was in Rio de Janeiro.”
He smiled and replied, “I served with your dad. He gave me his camera, and I still have it. I have loved and cherished that camera my whole life, and I am forever grateful for your dad’s generosity.”
The camera was real! I was shocked because I was in the wrong part of Brazil to meet someone my dad knew from his mission. He served in northern Brazil, not where I was. I had never thought about it, but obviously, a missionary serving in northern Brazil would come from the south. Of course, I was exactly where I needed to be to meet him.
The next day, he brought in the camera and let me hold it and look at it. He also took my companion and me to lunch and gave me pictures of my dad on his mission. I had never seen a picture of my dad on his mission, so it was great to see him at my age and in many places similar to where I had been. That day, I felt a connection with my dad that I had never felt before. I was my father’s son. He was a great person, and I should embrace our similarities instead of fighting to be different and independent. On a deeper level, I also felt my Savior’s love for me on a very personal level. He knew who I was and where I was and was with me all along the way.
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Epilogue
I made copies of the pictures from my dad’s mission and sent them home to him. According to my mom, my dad walked in with the mail and a picture fell out on the ground. He stood staring at it and turned white. My mom thought something was wrong, “Is it Jonathon? Is he okay?” He just stared and said, “No, it’s me. How…”
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