The most memorable Christmas I have ever had was the year we moved overseas to Lisbon, Portugal. We lived in a branch of maybe 40 people on a good day (including our family of five) and where I was the one and only youth. Which means that when our family moved into the branch they had to call a young women's leader and a Sunday school teacher pretty much just for me, until either my sister turned twelve or other youth joined the branch. The young women's president that the branch president called was a wonderful lady in her early twenties who spoke excellent English and was able to teach lessons and speak to me in English, which was great (I don't know if I could have handled all three hours of church in a foreign language I had no previous exposure to). The woman who the branch president called to be the youth Sunday school teacher was an older Portuguese grandma who had never had the chance to learn English, and the only words she knew were "thank you". At the time, I was the only youth in the branch at 14 years old, had never lived anywhere where I had to listen and understand other languages in church. I know that this Sunday school class was a large challenge for the both of us. We would sit in that room for about an hour trying to communicate the lesson. This was done by reading scriptures in two languages, many hand gestures, different facial expressions and with a lot of help from the Holy Ghost.
About a week before Christmas, we had lived in the branch for about a month and a half now and our branch president asked my family to buy a Christmas dinner for my Sunday school teacher. So, we took a Saturday morning and went to the local supermarket and bought food for the upcoming holidays and a few extra groceries to try and help her out. I really did not think much of this, for me it was something to do on a Saturday morning other than swim practice. When we showed up to her apartment with those bags of food, she had tears rolling down her face and told us how she was praying and hoping that there would be a way to have Christmas dinner for her family. In her apartment that day, I could feel the love that our Heavenly Father has for this woman and that she was a beloved daughter of God. After that Saturday, I felt a greater love for my Sunday school teacher and it became a bit easier to go to Sunday school every week.
As I previously mentioned, the only work my teacher knew how to say was "thank you" and she sure did say it a lot. Once I started to learn Portuguese and was able to better understand what she was saying, I realized how that Saturday morning in December had affected her. She would always say how that day we were a Christmas miracle. I will never forget this Sunday school teacher and how much she taught me over that year and nine months. She still is a huge example of faith, perseverance, dedication, and love to me. After that Saturday morning, I learned to love her in a way I had not considered before and was able to see a glimpse of what Heavenly Father sees. I am really grateful for the opportunity that I had to be in her class and to learn from her incredible example.
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