Dear Georgia...

Dear Georgia,

It has been a year ago this month that I left your red soil and planted my feet at home. However, when I did so, it was difficult to tell whether I had just arrived at home, or just left. I often still think of you, miss you, and pray for you. I feel that I have a wealth of overdue gratitude I owe you...

To Miss Elizabeth, who stood behind the first door I knocked on, may God bless you for your kindness to one very frightened missionary. To Aldora, what must surely be the smallest area in missionary history, may you become the ward that President hoped for. To patient companions, who became lifelong friends, may you continue to teach and love me as you have done so much already. To the lady in Jackson who made me my first Pecan pie, may you ever bless this earth with something as Heavenly as that. To Ward Mission Leaders and Bishoprics, who invited me into their PEC's and heralded our work regardless of how great or small, may you continue to show faith in incompetent missionaries. To members in every area, who came on last minute team-ups to face only dodged appointments and still went away smiling, may you be blessed with success for your efforts. To the dear Tingen family, who didn't murder me when I broke their vacuum, may the flowers we planted continue to be the only ones left blooming. To the Sharpsburg ward, who made a green missionary feel like I walked on water, continue to feel the fire of missionary work. To my dear friend Janae, who wrote me religiously for 18 1/2 months, may you continue to inspire and bless those who know you as you've done me. To Angela and Tasha, with whom I had the chance to share many sacred moments, may you remember how much the Lord needs you, and you need Him. To miracles, which appeared on a most consistent and almost daily basis, may you continue to help missionaries remember why they serve. To Bro. Morris, a most prepared, God-fearing, and ever-generous man, may you always help me feel like I'm your granddaughter. To the seven compassionate people, who are a small representation of all Georgians, continue to offer the girls in skirts a ride in the rain. To Cedartown, where I could only serve for six precious weeks, continue to have the lasting impression on missionaries which you have had on me. To the less-active woman who taught me how to get the honey from a honeysuckle, may you continue to show kindness to the full-time missionaries and recognize the happiness missing in your life. To the Jonesboro stake, where I spent about 14 months of my mission, may you continue to grow and prosper. To the Christlike Perdue family, with whom I spent so much time but who are not yet baptized, may you feel the Spirit's urge prompting you to realize the need for Priesthood authority. To the city of Rome, who taught me more about the Lord's Atonement than any other experience, continue to be a teaching ground to young sisters and elders. To the talented McNeals who took a leap of faith in baptism, continue to feel the same excitement over the Book of Mormon that you once did. To the many, many people, who showed me by love, example, and charity what it truly means to be a Christian, may you be part of the prophecy's fulfillment, for a million members in the South.

And to the beautiful red soil, upon which I will always long to walk, may you continue to be as sacred to me as any holy ground.

With tender love and fondness,

Sister Rodgers

Oh, and to the man with the pet squirrels, may you find it in your heart to release the helpless rodents.