Planting Seeds of Love and Hope

     What do you do when you are face to face with people who want to hurt you, people you perceive to be your enemies? Here is an experience Brett had in Brazil while he was serving a mission, which he wrote about for a college writing assignment.

Small Seeds
By Brett Beutler

    As a kid my Dad took pride in his garden. He had us help him plant to build character. He would give me a small seed, that was mysterious to me, and have me plant it. I did not know what fruit each plant would bring. Often I was surprised to see the fruits that came up from a tiny seed, that I thought might bring another. The Lord gave me seeds that hatched the most unlikely fruits in my life, small seeds that redirected me in life. One hatched, by surprise to me, on a cold night in September.

Planting seeds as a family

     As we walked, we found ourselves under the spotlight of the moon in the dense, dark night. We stumbled tiredly over the jagged cobblestones, kicking some loose under our feet. Streetlights did not add their security to this street, as shadows seemed to only hold what I dared not see. Next to a mechanic's garage was a poorly erected house built from oddly shaped bricks and broken wood. Through a small window, a flame danced on its wax stage, lighting the almost empty space inside.

    We knocked and a familiar face welcomed us inside with a smile. The hinges groaned as the door gave us passage. Neiva, this 30 year old woman, beckoned for us to sit on her wooden couch. I tiredly slumped down in my usual spot, adjusted my name tag and I pulled out my scriptures. I tilted my scriptures to the light, fighting hard with each word; I struggled to portray my message of hope. Her young son and daughter become my instant opposition in competing for her attention. Her older son, Alex, meanwhile added a discouraging note to this band of distractions, by talking with his friends in the next room. Alex, a thick kid of about 6 feet and a few inches tall, carried on in his room sniffing anything that might give him a high, with two of his misled friends. He was a kid that feared nothing but coming off of his high, and he robbed his own mother's clothes to afford his drug addictions.

     Everything seemed as it normally did, until Neiva’s boyfriend arrived at home. His name was Derli and he was a man of age and low morals. Not only did he lie and cheat everyone he knew, but he was a man with a temper. Often he would abuse Neiva and the kids, and he cared only for himself. Stumbling through the door he panted, blowing the rank smell of alcohol into the air. Standing seemed to be a burden for him. He immediately began to argue with us, being on the verge of exploding with pride. He argued with us trying to justify himself and prove us wrong. Alex opened the door at this and stood in silence, peering from his doorway. Every muscle in Alex’s body seemed tense as he peered, with fists closed, at his so called drunken step dad, who stood swaying in the living room.
    Derli, caught a glimpse of Alex, and dropping his smug grin, dragged himself over to where Alex was standing. In a voice of hate, Derli demanded to be let inside and he tried incoherently to slide past Alex. Alex forcefully pushed him back. Derli’s face turned red and in a mad second grabbed Alex by the collar and tried to throw him out of the way. Alex, losing all sanity, grabbed Derli and vigorously shoved Derli to the ground. Derli hit the ground like a bag of sticks; his frail body curling as he sprawled out on the ground. My body, shocked at the movie playing out in front of me, left me paralyzed. I woke up after a second and crossed the room with a leap. Derli, now on the ground, reached up striving to deaden the blows to his face and throat. Alex was kicking Derli with every ounce of strength, trying to kill Derli with each blow. Aiming at Derli’s head he fired shot after shot, as blood sprayed from several openings on Derli's face. A pool of blood glistened, reflecting the terrible scene playing out. Our shouts awoke everyone in town, as we tried to stop the assault and calm Alex down. I, being the biggest there, grabbed Alex and pinned him to the sink. With adrenaline filling my veins and my knuckles white, I held him there so he was unable to escape. Alex repeatedly swore at Derli screaming, “I am going to kill you.” He worked his arm free and grabbed a knife from the sink. With it clenched in his hand, he raised it up. Before he could stab me, I grabbed his arm, wrenching the knife free from his grasp. My companion in the meantime had Derli hanging in a dripping mess over his shoulder, and was dragging him moaning out the door and making it for a nearby house.
    Worried for my own safety I released Alex and standing hands ready between him and the door, I tried to calm him down. A split second after releasing him, he charged me at a sprint, throwing his shoulder into me. I stumbled backward, the table catching me from falling. He sprinted past me and through the door. Recollecting myself, I sprinted out the door after him.

Brett on his mission in Brazil

    I exploded through the door and into encompassing darkness. I ran through the gate to see Alex push my companion and Derli onto the jagged cobblestone road. Alex began once again to kick Derli in the chest and face. Derli lay limp in the road unable to give any defense. Almost unrecognizable he moaned for help. My companion rising up pushed him with all his 110 pounds. Alex stumbled back and bending down picked up a loose cobblestone about the size of a hand ball. He lifted it to give what could be his ultimate blow. I got there in the nick of time and stripped it from his hand, like an NBA player might strip the ball from a high-schooler. I slid my way between the two of them. I began to push Alex backward, grabbing his shirt at times to prevent him from going around me. He continued to repeatedly yell at Derli, telling him that he was going to kill him for hitting his mom. With my heart racing at too many RPMs, I was in a panic. I found myself yelling back, "In the name of Jesus Christ stop this this instant." I couldn't think of any words that might have more power. I found myself becoming increasingly more calm, no longer fearing what he could do to me. I forced him, with a force that wasn't my own, backward. I stood like a warrior, sword drawn, between Alex and the man he wanted dead. My companion meanwhile had dragged Derli around the corner, and up the next street. Alex finally desisting in his frugal attempt to get by me and he turned and charged into the darkness. Fearing Alex might meet Derli and my companion head on around the block, I ran to catch my companion. I caught up, grabbing hold of the other side of Derli, carrying him also.
    After a few blocks an investigator aided us by driving across town to the hospital. Derli lay conscious, but limply bleeding in our arms. His nose laid flat against his face and each breath was like getting cut with a knife. I had despised him, even hated him, for what he had done. Yet as he lay humbly in our arms, I began to see something special inside of him. We checked him into the hospital and began the long walk back home. My companion covered in dried blood, was shaking from the trauma of the event, and we walked without saying a word.
     We met Alex along the way and with a smile he asked if Derli was still alive. We admitted he was in bad shape, but that he was at the hospital now. We dropped by Neiva's to grab our stuff and my heart fell to see her. She was on the couch holding her kids, her shirt wet from their tears. We were late though, so we quickly grabbed our things and headed home. We passed the spot where Alex had been, but in those few minutes he was already gone.

    We got home about 11:30 and we were exhausted. We prayed together, asking the Lord to watch over everyone. I climbed into bed, and spent the next 30 minutes lying in bed trying to fall asleep, but I felt inside, like a duck about to go over Niagara Falls. I knew that Derli could still be in danger. Alex knew where he was. I tried to talk myself out of it, telling myself that it was against the mission rules. I tried to ignore my feelings, but I couldn't. I had to take a step into the darkness; because I did not know what the Lord wanted me to do exactly.
    In the cold night, we winded our way through the dangerous city and back to the hospital. Arriving safely at the hospital, they let us in to give Derli a blessing. As we laid our hands on his head, I felt a love inject itself into my blood. I felt a love for this terribly lost son of God, as we gave him a blessing of health and protection. We asked the doctors to protect him in case Alex came to finish the job.

    My life has been like walking into the fog. I never can see that far in front of me, but looking back it is clear where I took wrong and right turns. I followed the spirit not knowing beforehand what I should do (1 Ne. 4:6). I broke the mission rules to do the Lord's will, although hard for me to do at the time. The Lord is always testing us and what is most important is that we follow his spirit. That we take those small whisperings and plant them to see what fruit will come from them. Planting one of these seeds is like moving a farm gate at the hinge. Small may be the movement at the hinge, but at the end it changes everything. “By small and simple things are great things brought to past.” When you obey that still small voice your whole life is changed. I was refined in the refiner's fire, and my potential is forming me into something precious before God, something fruitful.

  The reason Brett's mission and most missions have a curfew is for the safety of the missionaries. Several times on Brett's mission he encountered men with knives with the intent to rob him. I was thankful for his size. This experience of his touched me because he put his own safety at risk walking the streets at night because his love for others was more important than his own safety. I prayed a lot for his safety while he served his 2 year mission. I am thankful he was kept safe and that he listened to the promptings of the spirit. I am thankful for Brett's example and for his great compassion.