Church in New Zealand

We walked to church today to the Auckland 1^st Ward, located on the side of a hill in the center of the city. Everything here, it seems, is located on the side of a hill. The faces in the chapel were almost exclusively brown. We sat in our pew like a row of pale stones placed carefully along a dark shore. I felt what it must be like to be a brown face in a white crowd. But then immediately I felt the warmth and welcome of people who didn’t care about the color of my skin – they were simply happy we were there. Samoan, Māori and Tongan women with weathered faces and broad shoulders folded us into their arms, kissed our cheeks and welcomed us like family. An ancient grandmother with a large pink tropical flower tucked behind her ear took my children by their arms and guided them to their different classes, promising to find them and bring them to me after church was over. My heart ached with the memory of living in places outside of Utah, places where members of the church cling to each other with the ferocious loyalty of sailors drowning in a storm.  

After church we visited some friends, Deborah and Garrick Cocker, who live in Takapuna, one of the suburbs of Auckland. Deborah was a student of Clark’s at BYU last summer, when she travelled back and forth between Provo and New Zealand to finish her degree. They invited us for lunch – which extended itself through happy conversation into an early dinner – and ended with a beautiful walk along the beach that is just a block from their house. It was a lovely afternoon with gracious, generous people. 

Left to Right: Garrick and Deborah Cocker (with granddaughter Evie), Ira, Clark, Brennan, Sadie and Rachel Cocker (The Cockers' second daughter)