I had two friends enter the Missionary Training Center today. It's always bittersweet seeing a friend begin his or her journey, but it's often at times like this that poetry happens.
One of these new missionaries was a young man I had known in Texas. My companion Elder Allred and I would take him to lessons with us sometimes when we served together in his ward. Even back then I saw great things in the future of this boy's service to the Lord; he was a good help to us, and a good friend.
Today, Elder Allred and I were reunited with this young man to enjoy a final meal before he entered the MTC and started his own mission. It was like old times--a sweet verse written first in the heart of Texas months ago.
But this time the tables had turned; my companion and I were the members, and he was the missionary.
God is the greatest of all poets.