Hermana Heywood

Kaitlynn in the Chile Puerto Montt Mission

Morning Call with You (Puerto Montt), June 1, 2026

June 1, 2026 · Puerto Montt + Herriman

This was the weekly P-day morning call, about 52 minutes, on Natalie's birthday and the day before her high school graduation. You were in Puerto Montt. Mom joined me partway through for a long photo slideshow, and your companion Hermana Figueredo spoke up twice from off your camera. The raw was rough, so a lot of this is in summary rather than exact words.

Busy Week, Natalie's Graduation and Birthday

I told you it was a super crazy week; I had activity days on Thursday on top of work, and I was taking the next day off. You confirmed the next day was Natalie's graduation. You said you had sent Natalie messages saying happy birthday, though you didn't think she was awake yet. I agreed she was probably still asleep; she had graduated from seminary the day before, so she had no early-morning seminary, but she did have graduation practice that day. I said I thought it was lame that they hold the graduation at UVU rather than in the bleachers at Mountain Ridge's stadium. You guessed they do it at UVU because of the number of people and the sun, and noted they had done the same for Bryson. You remembered the food roasting in the sun at Bryson's graduation.

Lagoon Day vs. Bryson's Graduation

You recalled that you had had to choose between Lagoon Day and Bryson's graduation, which were scheduled on the same day, and you chose his graduation, so you never went to Lagoon. I told you that you were a good sister, and that Natalie and Alexa would not have to make that choice. I said it was dumb that the two had been scheduled on the same day.

The Twisted Ankle

I asked how being a traveling sister was going. You said it had been fun but a stressful and tiring week, and that you had twisted your ankle the night before, worse than the other times you've done it. You heard a pop. You described stepping on the corner of a cement drainage channel and hitting what you thought was your shin bone near the joint. You said your ankle wanted to roll and then snapped back up. It hurt that day and was swollen, though not super swollen, with no bruising, so you didn't think it was a sprain, but it hurt in a different way than usual.

I told you that you needed to wrap it and put it on ice, that it was super important. You said you had your wrap out and had been going to use it. You said that the next day you had one of your first real blitzes (going out with another companionship), and that you were saying you should cancel it because of your ankle; you had texted Hermana Mackay so she would know. You said you still wanted to go and work.

You said that if you needed to go to the doctor to get it checked out, you would, and that he would probably tell you that you needed to rest for the next seven years, which would drive you nuts, but you were trying not to be prideful: trying to be humble, to let people help you.

I said that was really good, and reminded you of when you first sprained your ankle at girls camp and then walked on it all the time, which I tied to your ongoing ankle problem. I told you that being in Puerto Montt, you were in the best place for this to have happened, so you should not treat it like you were in the sticks: you should talk to people, get the help you needed, and do what they told you to do. I asked whether it hurt badly when you walked home on it. You said not really badly; you limped home using just your toes and keeping it in the same shape, and your companion helped you. The problem was you did it right at the top of a hill and you had to go down, but it was only about five minutes from home, so it was actually one of the better places it could have happened.

You said that normally you just walk it off and it starts feeling better; it's usually never bad enough that you can't walk, and after a minute it feels fine, maybe a little sore, and you wear your brace for a couple of days and can still work. But this time there was a pop, you think you slammed onto the cement corner, and it hurt on both sides. I asked whether it hurt on both sides of the ankle, left and right. You indicated it hurt in two specific spots.

I said I was sorry, and joked that if I were there I would give you a piggyback everywhere you wanted to go. You told me I was invited to come on down. I did a bit about being called "Hermano Heywood" if I came, and that you would have to call me "Hermano Heywood" instead of Jason. I added a "Buenos días" and noted it was 9:00 a.m.

Hermana Figueredo on You Resting

Hermana Figueredo, from off your camera, spoke in Spanish; she said she had told you that you need to rest and don't need to worry about what is going to happen. You said Figueredo is a really good companion and that you love her because she takes care of you, but that it makes you mad that she wants to take care of you, because you don't want to be taken care of; still, it is a good thing you have her. I said she puts up with your stubbornness. Figueredo added that she was just happy because your house was clean.

You asked, as a setup, what you did the night before after you twisted your ankle. Figueredo answered: cleaned the house. You said you had been thinking that you needed to clean the house even though you were the one who should rest; Mom filled in the punchline, "Clean the house." I told you that you were going to have to use child psychology on Figueredo: tell her the opposite of what you wanted her to do. You agreed you needed to try reverse psychology. You said your week had been awesome and this week was going to be too, and Mom echoed that it would be awesome.

Wrap It and Ice It

I told you to make sure to wrap it really well. I brought up the air-cushion cast I once had to wear, which I wore too late, and told you to keep it wrapped, take ibuprofen to help with swelling, and ice it when you could. You said you needed to go grab your wrap. I explained the reasoning: like setting a cast for a broken bone, if you had pulled some ligament from the bone or strained it, wrapping it provides the support to help the tissue connect and heal.

Hermana Figueredo spoke again in Spanish; she said she sees a worried missionary and that you need to worry less. I thanked her for taking care of you. Mom said, "Of course. I love doing it." You called it your favorite job.

Proselytizing and the Late-Night Texter

I asked whether you had done any proselytizing. You said this week had probably been the week with the most time to proselytize; you found a bunch of people. You said you got a random text in the middle of the night, which you did not read until that morning, from a man raving about how the church is awesome, and then he swore at you, so you blocked him. I joked that it was a good thing he let you know at the time, because if he had waited until morning it would have been too late. You said you looked through the texts; it was a random number with no point of contact. It looked like at first he might have wanted to learn about the gospel, but he was wound up from the start, so you didn't know whether he just wanted to Bible bash. You said he had probably been watching anti material, which you glossed as "believed bad things." I said it was super frustrating, and that I think at the judgment there will be a line of people waiting to slap Satan.

How You Teach: Charlas, Need, and the Temple Focus

I asked who else you met. You said you had met a whole bunch of people, but the problem is you can never get second lessons. I said even the first lesson, with Preach My Gospel, is so unstructured, and asked how you figure out what your first lessons are going to be, suggesting "it's just about Jesus." You asked what the discussions were called when I served; I said "discussions," and that we always started with the first one. You said the missionary discussions are called charlas, and that your approach is now almost the opposite of the old fixed order.

You shared your screen to show the Preach My Gospel app and area book. You said the first thing you always do at the first contact is invite the person to church. Instead of teaching the charlas straight through, you teach more by principle. You used your friend Camila as an example: Camila came to an activity, and the area book holds the history of every contact you have had with her. You walked through the list of lessons in the app: the Restoration of the gospel, the plan of salvation, the gospel of Jesus Christ, becoming disciples of Jesus Christ; the baptismal interview; and the invitation to be baptized and confirmed.

I asked if you were having to think through your English words; you said yes. I said that was fine, "because you're so cute."

You continued: instead of teaching a full lesson, you teach parts of these depending on the need of the person. With Camila, who told you her mom had died, you would teach part of the plan of salvation (the resurrection, judgment day, the kingdoms of glory), then teach her about coming to church, keeping the Sabbath day holy, and the Holy Ghost, and invite her to come to church. You showed a member's record where you had taught across three different lessons: the earthly ministry and the atonement of Jesus Christ; the gospel of Jesus Christ blessing all of God's children; and keeping the Sabbath day holy. The goal is to teach all of it, just not in a specific order. You said temples are not one of the first things you teach, but it is a focus, because the mission's vision is to fill the temple of Puerto Montt; so with everyone you teach, you keep the temple, the end, in mind. Mom said she loved that focus, and that she thought it was cool you were trying to fill that temple.

I asked who else you taught. You repeated that you had a bunch of first lessons but not many second lessons; the one repeat had come as a referral from another missionary. I asked how you find people; you said the first lessons are normally just lessons in the street.

"I'm Sick of Talking About Home"

I asked whether you had had any spiritual experiences in the last week. Mom made a joke in response. You said you did not want us to tell you about home; you were sick of talking about it. Mom said that this next part would not bring you the Spirit, but not everything can.

Family Photo and Text-Message Slideshow

Mom, and later I, walked you through a long run of photos and text messages. The thread jumped between many subjects:

I then shared my screen to show text messages:

The "Gimpy" Email Tease

I teased you that one blessing of your injury is that you will be able to write an email to everybody today. You pushed back on me thinking I'm so funny, and joked twice about how short your whole email would be: first a longer version (your dad told you you're "gimpy" and that you have to write an email), then a shorter restatement: "Hi guys, I'm gimpy. I've done cool things this week. Bye." I said you could tell everyone all the cool things you've done and it would be great. I asked what your first thing to do that day was; you said probably nothing, because you can't really do anything with the ankle.

King Benjamin in Mosiah

I said the injury brings me back to something I wanted to ask: what you're currently studying in the scriptures. You said you're kind of all over the place. I said I had just finished Mosiah chapter 5, reading King Benjamin's final address to the people. You said you love those chapters. I said I found it interesting that around that time they decided to switch the record from Nephi's line to the kings, and that it was funny how the writers started out verbose and their contributions to the Book of Mormon got shorter and shorter toward the end, where the writer says he's wicked and is going to give it to someone else. You filled in: "I'm not good enough for this. I'm going to give it to my brother." I said they then passed it off to the kings.

Sign-off

I said I had to get to work. I asked whether, given that you are now (joking) a handicapped paraplegic person, I would be able to talk to you that evening. You said you would be getting home late but should be able to call for a couple of minutes. I asked whether it would be a couple of minutes like last week; you said it might be more, we'd see. I told you your hair was cute, asked whether it makes your head sweaty, said I loved you, and had to go. You said you loved me and would talk to me later.

Cleanup Notes