Last Sunday I took half of my family to my favorite place in the mission: Kingsbridge. Kingsbridge is the north-west part of the Bronx, and I served there for nearly a 1/3 of my mission. Kingsbridge has a lot of friends, converts, and memories. A new memory was made when Dad sat in a puddle of brown water on the subway. Bronxed. On the way up, old memories flashed in my mind as we passed familiar stops. 167th, Treemont, Fordam. Finally, we arrived at Kingsbridge Road.
At the top of the subway stairs, I took one deep breath for old time sakes. The smell of the Bronx still contained the fragrant stench of dead animal, trash, and mold. Unforgettable. The church building is right next to the subway stop, so the walk ended quickly and my parents could stop holding their breath.
Being Christmas, the ward choir sang The choir epitomizes, I think, the level that wards from the Bronx are at. If the choir can stay on the melody, they're deemed impressive. They were impressive on Sunday. The family met a few friends of mine before we went to a converts home to visit. In my eyes this was the best part. My family saw the beautiful grime and filth of the Bronx where I would walk and teach, but the apartments were where special memories that I will never forget were held. I love the Bronx.
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