Today was the end of our trip to the Galilee. We went to Ceasarea Maritima and the aqueducts, but more importantly we stopped by Haifa. On a touristic note, Haifa is a pretty boring city. There isn't much to see apart from the headquarters of the Baha'i faith, interestingly enough. But for the Latter-Day Saints, Haifa has important and interesting history. The first converts of the church in Israel along with the first missionaries who died of disease are buried in a German cemetery in Haifa.
Before leaving for Jerusalem, Gus told me the story of his great-great uncle who came and served as a missionary. John Clark, son of Ezra T. Clark, was called to serve in the middle east at the age of 23 while he was a student at BYU. Elder Clark first traveled to Turkey, and then made his way down to Haifa, Palestine after learning that there was a group of German Christians who had settled there. He died a year later while serving in Haifa.
After arriving in Jerusalem, I told some fellow students this story at dinner one day and described it as a story my grandfather told me so that I wouldn't have to tell the other story of meeting Gus. Lo and behold, the girl sitting next to me, Eden Lance, was a descendant of the Clarks and emotionally exclaimed that we were related. Not wanting to ruin the moment or seem like a liar, I quietly agreed that we were cousins. On a figurative measure I wasn't to far off; I do indeed feel apart of the Clark family in a tiny way. For the longest time I kept up my secret, but a few weeks after Gus's passing I decided I should tell Eden. She took it better than I thought, and the thought persisted as a joke. We continued until Thursday when Eden addressed all of the students at the center about her ancestor John Clark and I listened to the story as another student. I couldn't help feeling a connection, although not completely overwhelming. I know eternal ties will link me to not only my family, but my friends as well.
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