But, darkness was not the challenge at the beach baptism. It was the mosquitos. This is the story.

A wonderful lady was found by the missionaries 10 years ago in Vega de a la Torre and desired baptism. Then, the missionaries were pulled out of her town and she never recieved the ordinance. 10 years later, she was found by Elders Page and Moyar. She was retaught, desired baptism, and wanted to do it in the sea. After the Friday zone conference in Martinez de la Torre, Mom and I drove the missionaries (and the assistants) to the baptism.

We were in Vega plenty early. It didn't have to get dark, but, factor in missionaries who have no sense of how fast the sun drops, and Mexicans who have no sense of how fast the clock runs, and that equals dark and late. Dark and late is also when the mosquitoes really come out, especially near water. The sea is near water.

We loaded ten people in the minivan. The missionaries took a taxi. We met at the beach, which was ten miles southeast of nowhere. Good thing it was dark. There was no where to change. The lady, about 50, just walked to the edge of a grove of trees and changed. No one looked. And if it was a sin, she was about to be baptized. Baptism cleanses. Oh, yes. The mosquitoes.

Holy flying, biting insects! There were millions of them. They were tiny, which is good news because tiny ones don't carry Dengue Fever. But, the bad news is that they really bite and when they do, it burns. Then, that stops and you think you are safe, but no. A few hours later the itching starts. It goes away after several days IF you don't scratch. Scratch once and you own a welt for over a month. No kidding.

The baptism. It was one of my favorites. Too often they line up speakers for baptismal programs who think they need to discourse on not just baptism by water but what water is and how it is made--you know, two inert gases get together and BANG! Water! And then the next speaker tries to define just exactly what is the DNA of Holy Ghost. Those talks go on forever and are followed by a chorus of would-be songsters who don't know a correct pitch from a Looney Tune. Then, finally, someone remembers that we are here to baptize.

This one was different. We were in Mosquito-landia. There were no speakers, no special numbers, no videos, no prayers, no nothing. Get undressed, get dressed, get baptized, get undressed, get dressed, get in the van, get home. Perfect. It was not the most spiritual baptism I have ever attended, but at least the mosquitoes were well-fed. Now, because we were in a very remote spot and there were no taxis within miles, 14 piled in the minivan and we drove back to town.

The missionaries are Elders García García, Norcross, Page, y Moyar.