Because of the rain during the night the forecast did not look promising and we were not sure that the assignment could be fulfilled. We would not know until our arrival- three hours later- if things would come to pass. We drove towards Kingman where we would join up on the old, yet famous, Route 66 while listening to Christmas music.
After 60 miles on the famous Route, we turned off onto Indian Road 18 and headed towards Havasu Canyon which is the southwest corner of the Grand Canyon. On that road it became heavily wooded with Juniper trees and soon snow was covering the roadway, a rare treat for us in Arizona. Soon however, we began to go down in elevation leaving the snow and our trail behind.
We arrived at the Hualapai Hilltop Trailhead at our designated time, 9:45a.m. The sun was shining and the skies were clear, a promising forecast for the four of us. We parked and got out of the car. The weather was chilly and crisp. People were already there lining up for their turn. Derrick put our names on the list. We took pictures and wandered around as we were admiring our view. No one was really speaking and it was rather quiet until we could finally hear the sound we had been anticipating- blades whipping the air- helicopter blades to be exact.
We turned around and immediately out of the canyon came the helicopter and landed within seconds of it's appearance. The helicopter had a system that seemed efficient and organized. A man would appear from the shed, open the door to the helicopter and let people unload, while he unloaded their gear. Then, a gesture towards the awaiting crowd to quickly come forward to reload the helicopter, soon shutting the door and the helicopter quickly ascending into the canyon.
Seeing the nosedive into the canyon with such immediacy and quickness made my stomach twist a little in knots with apprehension. The girls and Derrick were only more excited by the thrilling ride soon to be taken by us.
You see, the only way to get to the Havasupai Village down below is either by helicopter, mules or backpacking 8 miles down. The people that live there use the helicopter all the time to take down their groceries, Christmas presents, and feed for their horses.
After waiting for an eternity it seems, it was finally our turn. We boarded the helicopter, buckled up and before we could even prepare for takeoff we were off the cliff with land only appearing hundreds of feet below. The view was breathtaking. None of us spoke because we were all looking out our own windows and viewing the earth below.
Soon, pictures were taken and the village appeared all quaint and untouched. It was hard to believe that people lived here. It was a step back in time, one that Derrick and myself have always longed for. We landed in the town square, unloaded and put our names on the list so we would have the chance to return later that day.
I asked for directions from an older lady who was sitting on a stone bench listening to her modern day ipod. We traversed on a red dirt path that was mostly muddy due to the overnight rain. We passed people on horses and dogs ran along. The leaves were changing color and falling to the ground. I enjoyed their smell and the crunch under my feet.
We walked along the path trying to take it all in. Smoke was coming from chimneys, people were hanging laundry and chopping wood. Kids were playing in the trees and riding their horses without saddles. It was picturesque and captivating.
After a 15 minute walk, we came upon a small, white church. It was our final destination and where we would fulfill Derrick's assignment. The church was immaculate. It was so white and the porch was spotless. We tried to wipe the mud off our shoes on the lawn before entering trying to hurry because we were very late. They, the ward members, realize that timing is not an exact science and usually wait for their visitors to arrive.
When we entered, the room had 5 other people there, 2 visitors and 3 ward members, a family. We quietly sat on the back row and listened to the first speaker. Once he finished, the man in front of us turned around and asked us why we had come. Derrick mentioned that he was the assigned High Council speaker and we had all prepared talks.
The MyMy started by introducing herself and mentioning her pet goldfish. The LuLu spoke next, followed by me and then Derrick. The man then asked if the girls would sing for them, in which we did. Brother Rogers spoke next. His sweet and humble testimony touched my heart so deeply. I am crying right now as I write because I was so touched by his faith and example to his family. I led the closing song and then gave the closing prayer.
This little church really has only 1 active family that come faithfully every week. They set up the chairs and maintain the church. In fact, the church is in their front yard.
Brother Rogers joined the church 30 years before as a young boy when sister missionaries were placed in their area. The church grew and at one time there was a large congregation. For some reason, church services were stopped in 1985 and many of the members went inactive and have stayed inactive.
We admired their faith and diligence. They meet weekly and never know if anyone will show. I wondered if I would do that. I know that there are faithful and diligent members all over the world doing that each week and admire their strength. I hope I would have been like that too if placed in that situation.
The Rogers family were so thankful that we had made the trek. We were so grateful and humbled by them. After visiting for 30 minutes we wished everyone a Merry Christmas and started the trek back to the town-square for our helicopter ride back into civilization. We really wished we could have stayed longer. The LuLu got to sit up front on the way back which was exciting for her.
Once at the top, we stopped to eat our sandwiches and then headed home. We drove back through the beautiful snow realizing that this might be the only time we see snow this season and stopped to play in it though inadequately dressed. The girls made snow angels, a snowman and had a snowball fight with dad.
We arrived home after dark. It had been a long day, but one that we will never forget. My thoughts have returned several times to that village and the Rogers family. They have been in our prayers too. We are hoping to backpack and camp along the falls sometime this year and look forward to another assignment in that cute, little church with a lot of heart, next year.
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