Hector Vilaboa looks like a great guy, doesn't he? Well, he really is . . . when he is sober. About 21 years ago he wasn't sober. He was at a college graduation party in Veracruz at a swanky hotel. Some harsh words were exchanged between groups. A fight broke out. Hector and his friend ended up on the floor. They were kicked and beaten. Finally, he had received enough and removed a large knife from his belt. It ended up between the ribs and into the heart of the main agressor. Hector and his buddy walked to the police station and turned themselves in. The locals said that it sounded like self defense to them and washed their hands of it. 28 years later the missionaries, who are assigned to work in a little sugar cane town called Tres Valles, found Hector. He loved the story of Joseph Smith in the Sacred Grove. He loved that the missionaries taught him to pray. He loved that the members accepted him like a brother and a friend, even though they knew what he had done. He is a big farmhand. He has his own tractor and plows fields all day long six (he used to do it seven) days a week. He wept like a little boy as he told me about all the love and peace he felt at church, that he wanted to be baptized so that he could help others as he had been helped. Well, this was a killing and it required him to live the life of a member of the Church for some months until I felt comfortable writing the First Presidency for permission to baptize him. He did his part. After nearly five months, I wrote the letter. Several weeks later, the response came. He was cleared and was baptized the first week of June.