I landed just shy of 8am at Heathrow yesterday, after having served a mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints for two years. I walked out of the contemporarily furnished terminal with three suitcases, a grey H&M suit, polished Eccos, and a white shirt with a collar as wide as the mississippi. One might have thought I was a business man, until he saw the gaping grandeur of an orange bag stuffed with my bedding sticking out the side of my luggage cart.
Therafter followed one of the many well-loved ‘mormon moments’ - as a group of anxious Americans hollered at me from the 4 o’clock direction. Without the slightest hesitancy, and as everyone around stared smiling, Dad, Mom, Neal, Owen, and Grant ran over to greet me for the first time in two years. At that point, I realized that my family truly does mean the world (and it’s big) to me. I glanced around as we were talking to the onlookers - and noticed that they were smiling, too. It most likely reminded them of their families, and their friends. There was a lot of love shared by a simple hug and chat - and everyone at Heathrow that day felt it.