Joy found me on the South Shore

People are always wondering how to find joy. Maybe we don’t. Maybe, joy finds us. I think a large of that is God’s bird’s-eye view. He knows when we need certain people in our lives and when we need to be that person in someone else’s life.

In my church, the young people have the chance to set aside 18 to 24 months to go out and serve the Lord. We’re assigned to specific locations and languages to share what we love about our beliefs with the people in the place we go.

I decided to go on a “mission” because I love Jesus Christ and wanted to spread the impact He’s had on my life. When I was assigned to New York, N.Y., I was pretty nervous. In my mind, New York doesn’t have the most joyful reputation. Plus, I’ve always lived in small towns (3,000 people deep), so NYC seemed daunting.

How lucky I was to find that the first area I’d be in was not the city, but Long Island. Despite not being able to talk to family more than once a week, Long Island reminded me immediately of the small town I was born in in southwest Virginia. Cute and weird and quirky. The small towns of the South Shore like Bay Shore, Patchogue, and Shirley quickly felt like home.

My very first interaction with a Long Islander was with a nice old man who helped my friend and I put air into our car tires. I could hardly understand his thick New York accent, but oh, how grateful I was for his kindness.

I think a lot of people see missionaries as a pest. Which I get. Really though, I was just there to share my love of the Savior and be a good person in other people’s lives. Missionary work is a lot of talking to strangers and rejection—things that aren’t my favorite. We leave our families behind for one to two years and are just surrounded by strangers. It can be pretty hard and pretty lonely.

But between the slammed doors and getting cussed out every few hours, I was happy to get to know the people of Long Island.

Thanksgiving and Christmas in Long Island were probably the hardest for me because it was my first holiday season away from home. All my family was together, and I wasn’t there.

One day, my friend and I were knocking on doors in the Patchogue November cold and getting a lot of doors slammed in our faces. We spoke with some kind people, too, but it had been a hard day.

Then we met Ricardo Silva.

Ricardo was repairing sprinklers in the neighborhood. Although there was a bit of a language barrier, he expressed his gratitude for us doing the Lord’s work. With teary eyes, he invited us to visit his family’s home in Holbrook later that week. We gave him a contact card.

When we went to the Silvas’ home later that week, I felt so much peace and joy. We met his wife, Lia, and their 10-year-old granddaughter, Brianna. It was joyful sitting in their home, discussing the word of God. Afterward, they gave us delicious hot chocolate and cake. I noticed the contact card we’d given Ricardo was on their kitchen island, and when I asked about it, Ricardo said they prayed for us by name each day. My soul was warmed. Joy had found me.

When we told the Silvas we would be away from our families for the holidays, Lia immediately made us take a picture in front of their Christmas tree to send to our mothers and gave us little Christmas ornaments. She said they’d be our family during the holiday season.

Ricardo said we came at a time when they needed a reminder of Jesus Christ, and I know that the Silvas came into a season of my life when I truly needed them.

From my experience, although the people of Long Island are cold and closed off at times, what is Long Island without its people? The ornament the Silvas gave me is still sitting on my desk, a reminder of Long Islanders’ caring hearts.

Leaving Long Island to go to the city was hard. I had grown to adore this strange, beautiful place with its warm-hearted residents. Joy had truly found me on the South Shore.