One of the family members moved aside and my eyes fell on the dead body of the husband. His wife (girlfriend) was hunched over him, sobbing and grabbing onto his lifeless arms.
I was speechless.
My first thought was, "Was this her answer to her fast?" The thought seemed preposterous.
After a few moments of initial shock, I simply stated, "If you need a free place to hold the funeral, you can have it at our chapel. We will prepare everything and get all you need if you'd like. I am so sorry. I don't know what to say."
My little missionary mind was reeling.
I then mustered out, "May I offer a prayer of console?"
All the family members nodded and bowed their heads.
My prayer was short and consisted of mainly asking for a blessing and feeling of comfort to be with family members and friends in this horrific and tragic time. As the prayer ended, the family members continued to weep for the loss of the father, son, brother and friend. We stayed until we had to leave--missionaries played an integral role in the sacrament meeting in the ward we were serving in.
We left, and I immediately called our district leader and zone leaders. We decided to plan a dinner for our investigators family and prepare a lesson of the importance and purpose of life.
On Tuesday the funeral was held. It was one of the saddest moments I have ever experienced in my life.
The body was lain in a tomb-like Catholic mortuary. He lay on a slab in the center of a room. Candles were lit everywhere and people were sobbing and crying over his body. Flowers were strewn at his feet and everyone was dressed in black. Some women had their faces veiled and some men were tearing the sky apart with their hands. The wife asked me to say a few words. I hastily put together a message about the purpose of life and the purpose of death. I focused on the resurrection and the power that Christ had over death which allows us all to one day--essentially--come back from the dead. I bore a powerful testimony of the reality of the Savior and I ended the message.
The tomb was eerily silent. But, a warm feeling pervaded every corner. The wife was smiling and the others had stopped crying.
About an hour later, the actual burial occurred. It was the last time I saw that man as his casket was lowered slowly into the ground. The family members took fistfuls of sand and threw them onto the wood.
I looked at the wife and gave her a hug. She needed it. She cried a little more and whispered into my ear, "Obrigada."
The funeral ended. She came to church the next week.
The week after, I was transferred.
I never heard from her again.
~End Part 5
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