Sister Heywood

Natalie in the Iowa Iowa City Mission

Your First P-Day Call from the Provo MTC, July 21, 2026

July 21, 2026 · Provo MTC / Herriman (home)

This was your first real P-day call home, about two hours and forty minutes on a Tuesday (your P-days ran Tuesdays that first week and go back to Mondays once you're in the field). You reported in person the Wednesday before, July 15, so this was your first six days. Mom and I were home; about forty-five minutes in I had to duck into a work meeting, so I muted myself and stayed on the line and dropped back in when I could. Most of the call is you and Mom, and Bryson called in from his car near the end. I've filled in the parts I missed from the recording.

MTC arrival and the first days blurring together

You caught us up on your first week. You got there Wednesday and said you wanted to go home, thinking of it like a hotel you had to figure out. You walked into your room to three girls staring at you, but you already knew them; they were your district. You set up phones. You said every day felt a week long, so much that Wednesday felt like a month ago and you'd have to use your calendar to remember it. Wednesday ended with a devotional, dinner, and bed.

You said you've been tired every single day, even though you now get more sleep than you did the whole school year. You described five alarms going off at the same time in the mornings.

Thursday: classes, teachers, and the temple appointment Friday

Thursday you had two classes and a branch meeting you thought you skipped. There's personal study at night and a window from 10:00 to 10:30 for journaling before bed. You said you like your teachers because you'd already met them during online MTC.

Friday you had a morning class and lunch, then an endowment session at the Payson Temple, which you said was really cool. You fell asleep in the session, not just your head down but sprawled in the chair, and said you felt zero guilt about it. You said you love the temple, and in your email you called it heaven on earth.

The emotional resilience workshop

After the temple there was an emotional resilience workshop. You thought it was horrible and dumb because, unlike a devotional, you had to get up and talk to people and make friends. You said you wanted to shoot yourself and asked why you were talking to people, then said it turned out fine.

At the workshop you met a sister you called Sister Croft, from Enterprise. You said your grandma is from Enterprise and lives there, and that Grandma had written about this girl in her email to you the week before, so finding her felt like a small miracle. You added that Grandma's email that day told you Grandpa got a colonoscopy, and you decided you were not going to respond to that one. I laughed and joked about telling all my grandkids about my medical procedures. You said Grandma got one response out of you last week and won't get another until the last three weeks of your mission.

Learning to teach the lessons, and the first practice failures

You said you'd started doing lesson role-plays where you have to teach, and that you sound stupid doing it. You said you did badly in every practice and sounded, in your words, like you had some form of a mental disability. At one point the teacher arranged three companionships so she could pair off and practice with you directly, which you said made you feel like an idiot, though you admitted you needed the practice and the help.

The Helping Others appointment Saturday, and it clicking

Saturday brought the first Helping Others appointment, a teaching role-play with someone acting as an investigator, as real as it gets at the MTC. You and your companion had about an hour to prep and were scared. Two of the elders, Elder Simmons and Elder Ellsworth, whom you called the most normal ones, found you and talked to you for about thirty minutes; you said you said goodbye to them three times and they wouldn't leave. You said that when you got into teaching the lesson it finally clicked and you did really well. You framed it as needing to prove to yourself that you could do it.

Afterward you had to rate how you did and gave yourselves moderate ratings. The teacher's review matched or came in slightly lower. You said you didn't care because you just needed to do well for yourself so you'd know you can do this.

Sending your weekly email, and the chat setup

You asked whether your email had sent to Mom; she confirmed it had. You said you did a "send later" on Sunday so it would go out later, and joked about working around the rules. You said you wrote the email in your phone's notes on Saturday and kept adding to it.

I said I'd made a new Google chat with my name on it and invited you to a meeting, but you couldn't see it yet. That turned into a running logistics thread all call.

The ants in the snack box

This was the story you kept coming back to. On Saturday you went to eat cheese (Cheez-Its, per your email) from a box on the floor and saw something black moving inside. It was an ant, and there were more, in the plastic lining, between the bag and the box, and crawling on the outside. You got one onto a tissue and took it out, then decided that if there was one there were more; you lifted the bag and found them crawling inside and outside it and on your desk. You threw the box away and were sad because it was your one snack.

You said the carpet's color and pattern are a perfect camouflage for the ants, so you spent the next hour staring at the floor stomping on them, and called it the worst experience of your life. You moved all your luggage and anything touching the floor up onto the desk and closet, which you said are at least two feet taller than you, because you decided none of your things, and not even you, would touch the floor again. You said you still sometimes walk on top of your stuff to avoid the floor. You repeated that you started storing your food up high so the ants couldn't reach it.

The district: introductions by screen share

You shared your screen to show the faces of District 07-F and describe each person. You said there are thirteen people total, seven sisters and six elders, with two elder companionships and, among the sisters, one trio and two duos.

The trio: Sister Cyder, Sister Barbara, and the sister you call "Sister-in-law," your favorite of the trio, who's from Riverton. You said the two of you discovered you'd kissed the same boy, whom you named as Hadley Heseltine, and that she'd been describing an "evil ex" who turned out to be him. I joked the name sounded like a Harry Potter character.

Sister Bench and Sister Christiansen, a year older, are the other duo: you said Sister Bench is like a bodybuilder and Sister Christiansen is really sweet, named Elsa, and looks the part. Later you said Sister Bench had been a cheerleader and had left church for a while, and that her personality reminds you of Kaitlynn.

Your own companion is Sister Dillingham, whom you call Sister Dilly and kept calling your favorite person and the love of your life. The running joke all call was that the two of you are "getting married," have planned the wedding, and will go to the mission president to be put back together if you're split up.

The elders: Elder Nutelli, the other one from your district going to Iowa; Elder Larsen, whom you find very funny, said you think is autistic, and said just yells things (you told his snowman/snowwoman joke). Elder Bernoski, a wholesome, spiritual kid from Wisconsin whom you also called weird: he's writing an eight-book series he plans to write over his lifetime about a fictional anime girlfriend named Mabel, and he has drawings of her, including one in a wedding dress that he said will stay his lock screen until he finds a real "Mabel." Elder Jensen, from Idaho, whom you said is in love with Sister Dillingham, which you keep teasing her about. And Elder Ellsworth and Elder Simmons, "the normal ones": Ellsworth is 5'10", oblivious, and comes to conversations late, always asking what's funny; Simmons is really tall.

The residence hall and the pantsing

You said your room is with the trio, and described the sisters repeatedly pantsing each other the night before, saying you got pantsed roughly fifteen times, pantsed others, and "self-pantsed" several more, all with garments on. You said the garments are so sheer there's nothing left to hide. You said you've been having fun and the district keeps telling you you're funny, which you agreed with. You came back to this later, saying one of the sisters pantsed you four times in one day and again when you were heading out to brush your teeth at eleven, and noted the rule against walking around in your underwear even though everyone has the same garments.

Service, laundry, deodorant, and shoes

Your service that day was vacuuming half the fourth floor while another sister did the other half; you said a Spanish woman had explained how to vacuum. You'd started laundry twenty minutes earlier and said you don't know how to do laundry: you bought a box of orange Tide "pods" that turned out to be powder, and, seeing no dispenser, sprinkled it on top of the clothes because it felt right, guessing from movies. I confirmed that was fine and, later, that washing everything on cold together was the right call. You noted you paid about a dollar a package for detergent and bought two so you could do two loads.

You said your deodorant exploded and shattered on Saturday when you tried to put it on, so you pieced it back together like a puzzle and smashed it in. Then you bought new deodorant; the women's ones smelled, in your words, like an old woman, so you bought a men's one and now smell like a man, which you keep finding funny.

You said your Mary Jane shoes give you blisters on the backs of your heels, so Band-Aids have been a lifesaver, and that the shower situation is gross so you shower barefoot and check daily for foot fungus. You started a shopping list of foot powder and flip-flops to buy in Iowa.

MTC money

You explained the MTC card reloads every Wednesday; there's $12 at first, it carries over if unspent, and since you only spent about $4 early you have around $20 now. You weren't sure whether the balance disappears when you leave.

The food

You said the food's been gross, maybe two good meals, and compared it to FSY food but worse. The only things you've liked are rice and meat or pork and rice. You said the chicken cordon bleu tasted "mysterious" the first day and you won't eat mystery meat; the chocolate milk is, in your words, a lie and tastes watered down; and the desserts are dangerous enough that you could gain thirty pounds from them alone. You said you almost ate a salad, which you hate, and it was all kale. You drink a lot of water and some red cream soda, which you said makes you think of me.

Humility, and sleep

You said being at the MTC has been a trial and that you've learned many times you need to be humble, that it's humbling. You described your sleep: you fell asleep around eleven though lights-out is 10:30, woke at 8:20, and skip breakfast to feel awake all day, sometimes just having cereal like Fruit Loops.

The email BCC problem, and my Google Doc fix

A long logistics stretch: you couldn't figure out how to BCC your whole mission email list on the new phone. You had the list saved as a contact group but couldn't select it into the BCC field, and the contacts app and Chrome weren't cooperating. I walked you through options and remembered that Kaitlynn had pasted her whole list into a Google Doc and copied it into the BCC each time. I offered to log in as you, set it up, and save it so you wouldn't have to go to the computer lab. You mentioned you'd added Jerry Acton to your list. Eventually I got the "week two" draft's BCC populated for you, which startled you mid-call; you said you'd send it after we finished talking, once you added a couple more things.

Home news

You asked what was happening at home. Mom told you Alexa went to work and would babysit for McKay that week. You mentioned seeing Ruth, home from her mission, and weren't sure where she'd served. You asked whether Bryson has a girlfriend yet and heard he was talking to different people. You mentioned plucking and dyeing your eyebrows, probably Saturday, so everyone got to see your black eyebrows. You greeted Mason and said you'd read his letter, which you found in your shoe.

Temple Monday: sealings at Mount Timpanogos

You described going to the temple again Monday for sealings, specifically children to parents, which you said was really cool and made you understand how sealing works. There were two proxy mother-and-father pairs helping and instructing you. You joked that they didn't make the proxy parents kiss and that if you were officiating you'd have said "you may now kiss" even if it was fake.

You explained that for Friday's endowment at Payson you were set "free and wild," while Monday's sealings at Mount Timpanogos had the proxy parents guiding you. You noted Mount Timpanogos opens Mondays for missionaries now that the Provo Temple is closed, with staggered times, and that the bus ride back was hot and sweaty. You said Payson is beautiful, asked whether it was the one with the apple trees, and said you'd once thought driving past that you could get married there.

I step into a work meeting

About forty-five minutes in I told you I had to go to a meeting, that I'd mute you but stay on the line. From there I was in my work meeting and only dropped back into our conversation here and there, so the rest of this is mostly you and Mom, reconstructed from the recording.

Sister Dillingham's clinic visit

You told us that during a 1:30 class, about an hour in, Sister Dillingham had been feeling nauseous, so you took her to the MTC medical clinic in the middle of class. A doctor took her to the back, gave her a checkup and a pill to dissolve under her tongue, and said he'd be back in a few minutes; per what she told you, forty-five minutes passed, then another forty-five after the doctor was pulled away for an emergency, so she eventually told the front desk she was leaving. While you waited, you read the last lesson in Preach My Gospel and memorized the missionary purpose, which you recited. You said getting out of class was exciting but that you couldn't go buy food at the MTC store one floor below because you couldn't be without your companion, even though she was in the back; you joked about asking an office worker to be your companion so you could go downstairs.

Sister Stinky, and the sound machine

You told the story behind the nickname "Sister Stinky": the first night you took off your shoes, the Mary Janes, and your feet smelled so bad that the sisters called you Sister Stinky. You said it was your feet, your socks, everything, so you showered and washed your feet. That fed back into your foot-powder-and-flip-flops shopping list.

You described a sister's sound machine with a fan setting that tricks your brain into feeling cooler even though it's just static, and said your cooling blanket has been the best thing you invested in: you're not waking up hot or cold, and once you fall asleep you're out like a log until the alarms.

Sunday sacrament meeting

You said Sunday's sacrament meeting was in a big classroom with the branch, multiple districts together, which was different but cool. You said you've always felt self-conscious about how you take the sacrament, unsure whether to grab the bread first and then eat or eat first and then grab, and called it the dumbest thing to feel self-conscious about.

Choir practice, and quitting it

You said you and Sister Dillingham went to choir practice to see if it would be good and that you never wanted to die more in your life. You said the director reminded you exactly of "Miss Thorp," same haircut and build. You were singing a pioneer song because it was Pioneer Day that week, and you spent the time making fun of the music, including the director insisting on the pronunciation "en-sign" a certain way. You and Sister Dillingham decided your companionship is never going to choir again. Mom and you went back and forth about whether you should try it once more; you said you'd rather sing by yourself in front of everyone, and that the song's about pioneers and you think that's dumb, but you might try it next week.

The district meeting, the "on time" goal, and Sister Lagerri

You described an early district meeting overseen by an older branch-missionary couple, Elder and Sister Lagerri. When the group was setting a goal and no one spoke, you broke the silence by suggesting "being on time," which you said wasn't really the goal you wanted; everyone laughed because Elder Simmons and Elder Ellsworth had been late the first day and had to do pushups.

On Sunday, Sister Lagerri pulled you aside, said she wanted you to know that she sees you and that you're not overlooked, referencing your comment in the district meeting, and told you not to let people dismiss your ideas because your ideas are important. You said she was very sweet and you gave her a hug, though privately you were laughing because the "on time" idea had just been you breaking the ice. You noted she'd confided in you earlier about having felt overlooked and not dated when she was young.

You also described Brother Lagerri, whose face is permanently scrunched because he was born without an ear and has had many reconstructive surgeries, so he talks a little out of the side of his mouth. You recounted the couple speaking in sacrament meeting, where he mentioned one of their kids seeing a picture of a young Sister Lagerri and saying "Mom, you used to be cute," which you thought was a rough thing to say about your wife.

Learning to teach, and making weaknesses strengths

This was your most sustained thread. You said the hard part right now is learning how to teach the lessons, because you've been "a missionary" your whole life and don't have a problem being holy all the time, but you have to relearn how to teach the gospel and put your thoughts into words. You said you've been taught the gospel your whole life, don't even remember being taught it, and now have to figure out how to explain it correctly to someone who doesn't have it, which threw you off during mission prep too. You said you need to teach by the Spirit, which means having the foundational knowledge in place so the Spirit has something to pull from, so you're paying attention in class and doubling up to catch up.

You connected it to Ether 12:27, that God gives us weaknesses so he can make them strengths. You said that if you hadn't struggled so badly Thursday, Friday, and Saturday feeling dumb, the good lesson wouldn't have meant as much, and that God has been making you humble. You repeated the line you also used in your email: as long as you try your best, he'll fill in the rest, and then you'll be unstoppable.

You also framed your situation against Bryson's. You said Bryson had gone to mission prep every Sunday from age fourteen and knew all the lesson material, but had a hard time at the MTC because of his attitude and felt his life was over; everything he'd placed value in was gone and he had to relearn who he is. You said you're grateful you already worked through figuring out who you are before your mission, so you can focus on the lessons rather than a personal crisis.

You said going home when it gets hard isn't an option: there are about seventy people on your email list, and coming home would mean explaining to them that you got scared and it was hard, which you won't do.

Getting dropped off, and not crying since

You described being dropped off: waiting in a line and starting to cry because you think about things and cry, then telling yourself you're not dead, you'll see these people again, and this is your life, and then being fine. You said you don't think you've cried since, except a little on Sunday during a district meeting where people shared testimonies and Sister Dillingham made you cry, and a little at one of my letters. You said you keep telling yourself "this is my life."

You told a related story: the day we dropped you off, in the van, people were grumpy, crying, and whining, and you asked if they wanted to know who the best person in the world is, then answered "Natalie," and told a story. You said everyone got quiet and cheered up, and named Mason being weird about his trip as one of the things people had been upset about.

Bryson calls in

Near the end, Bryson called in from his car on the way to the gym, and the connection was patchy. He asked about your district, and you re-explained it to him: thirteen people, seven sisters and six elders, two elder companionships (one normal, one tall), the trio and two duos, and your companion Sister Dillingham, "Sister Dilly," whom you've decided to marry. Bryson noted you'd "finally broken the Dilly barrier." You repeated the pantsing and mooning stories to him.

Sugar Daddy candy, dental streak, and lunch

Mom was eating a Sugar Daddy candy on a stick, which you called her comfort stick and teased her about ("why are you eating it today"). I came in to make lunch. You reported you're still on a streak of not losing teeth and that the dentist had scared you about gingivitis, but your gums look pink and fine.

Laundry, dresses, and hair

You said your socks had been at the bottom of the bag and smelled rancid; Mom told you to wash socks right-side-out so the outside grime comes off, and to wash on cold when you're paying for laundry. You talked about missing wearing jeans and feeling free, said you're a "dress girl" now and like it, and worked out that you'll wear a dress on departure but probably pants to the airport. You mentioned you're keeping a white dress of Kaitlynn's, joking that she'll never get it back and won't even know it's missing.

On your hair, you said you have grown-out bangs, not current bangs, and are conflicted about cutting them. I told you to pick whatever hairstyle takes the least daily work, because you won't have time in the field and you'll get rained on and lose the effort. You agreed and said you'll probably stick with curtain bangs and face framing because it needs no maintenance.

Alexa's teen plans, and the Nerds cluster scare

You asked about Alexa. You heard the group of five was planning to meet at the mall the next day, with someone named Ashland driving, then go to a friend's house to play games, eat snacks, and watch a show. You said you're excited for her and that it's fun to be a teenager, then noted it's weird that you're an adult now.

You told a story on yourself: you ate a whole package of Nerds clusters, five at a time, then read the label and miscalculated the calories by multiplying by the serving size wrong, briefly thinking you'd eaten 16,000 calories before realizing it was about 500.

Packages, the MTC store, and a broken necklace

You said your necklace broke on the second day; the clasp connection broke, so you rigged the loose claw to both sides to make it work and will fix it later. You and Mom discussed sending things to the mission home: you could send your shoes ahead, and asked for more fabric Band-Aids because the ones in your first-aid kit aren't fabric and won't protect your ankles from your shoes. You weighed whether to mail items to the mission home versus packing them.

People met around the MTC: Presley and Ethan

You mentioned two people-met moments. A girl you called Presley, whom you'd only seen across the lunchroom, called out your name as you walked past a table, so you went over and hugged her and talked briefly; she's going somewhere to speak a language. And Ethan, whom you referred to as Elder Beeridge, is only allowed to speak French, so your outdoor exchange was mostly him speaking French and you using the little French you remember; you found it funny.

Fitted sheets, the discount pillow, and the notes from home

You said you put a fitted sheet on your bed and hoped Mom was proud, noting it was tight around the edges instead of having elastic corners. You said the MTC pillow is uncomfortable and its tag literally reads "Discount Pillow Factory," which made you laugh; I joked that's probably where the ants came from.

You said you found notes in your suitcase from the family, one from each of us, and had put them in a pile; you found Mason's in your shoe that day, and mentioned notes from Bryson and me.

The gym, and the size of the MTC

You said you haven't gone to the gym yet because the first visit requires a thirty-minute orientation or run you haven't done, and any free time you'd rather use to try to nap. You said there are about 1,800 people in the MTC and everything is staggered, so it's rarely fully full except maybe for a devotional.

Reflection: your life keeps moving, so change the present you

You came back to a reflection you credited partly to talking with Bryson the night before you left. You said everyone tells you it'll be cool to see who you become on your mission, but you won't see the change because there's no montage; you live every day and keep moving forward, and it just becomes your life. You said you liked that because your life isn't stopping and you have to choose what to make of it: you can hate it and not care, or use every opportunity to become the tool God wants you to be so you can help people come closer to God.

You extended it: you've spent your whole life waiting for milestones, like graduating or turning eighteen, expecting them to change everything, and they didn't. So if you keep waiting for a future version of yourself to be amazing, you have to change the present version, which means working now, and you said you hate that realization but know it's true. You said you're grateful you accepted the mission ahead of time, deciding you were willing to do it and understanding what it means, rather than doing the mission without thinking about what it costs. I said, dropping back in, that you thought about what it means for yourself and then decided, which not everyone does. You said you've seen many little miracles and blessings and know God has been with you the whole time. When Mom complimented your wisdom, you joked that some call you an owl and Mom called you a "hooty."

My counsel on hard companions

Dropping back in, I gave you some counsel about future companions you'll struggle with: the challenging part is learning to love them, changing your heart from "I wish I was dead too" to "I love you and I'm proud of how hard you're trying," or even "I love you despite this, even if you're not trying." You agreed, noting you already see it in the district dynamic, feeling like an older sibling and sometimes wondering why someone did something, and said it's a daily learning experience with much more to come.

MTC layout, and the cafeteria

You gave a tour of the buildings by description: the residence buildings (nine of them), the classroom building (T4, the biggest, with the classrooms), T3 (devotional rooms and, upstairs, the lesson rooms), a gym/recreation building, a "male" office building, and the cafeteria as its own building. You said the cafeteria has three places to get food: the main one called Cafe West, an aloha-plate station, and a "Choice Foods" made-with-you station, and that lines get long feeding 1,800 people, so you eat when you're hungry rather than at an assigned time.

Uncle Mike and Aunt Kari's visit

You asked whether we did the Sunday-night mission devotional; Mom said no, because Uncle Mike and Aunt Kari came by the house during that time. You said you didn't do the Sunday-night devotional either.

The flight to Iowa and the hotel with Sister Dillingham

You said you fly to Iowa the following Wednesday, July 29, expect flight information Friday, and that you and Sister Dillingham will stay in a hotel the first night because you don't get your field companions until the Thursday. You were glad you'll still be with her that first night, and joked that you told her to be scared of the hotel room. You guessed it would be a Motel 6-level place and that there might be another companionship sharing.

Setting up the family chat and photo album

I set up the communication channels. I created a Google chat space I named "Latalo and Mamma and Papa," posted in it, and made a Google Doc with all your email addresses so you can click it and copy the list into the BCC, the same way we talk with Kaitlynn. You eventually joined the space. I suggested you also make a shared photo album; you said you already created one in Google Albums with a name you wanted to keep as a surprise for your email, which you later told us you called "Bob Cobb the Mission," admitting it doesn't make sense while you're in Provo but you thought it was funny.

Email cadence

We worked out the rhythm of letters. I said we know you can only respond on Mondays or your P-day and aren't expecting responses; it's just nice to write. You said you like getting emails throughout the week but don't want me offended if you don't respond, because you read them when they come but can't reply until Monday or Tuesday, by which point your in-the-moment reaction is gone. You proposed taking a picture of your reaction as you read and sending it later so we still get your genuine response. You said my emails make you laugh, singling out that I never know what to put in the subject line, and mentioned the "Whoa Black Betty" one took you a second to get.

Sister-in-law's boyfriend, and my closing counsel

You relayed that your districtmate "Sister-in-law" has a boyfriend who got set apart as a missionary three weeks before she did, bound for England, and who she said still wants to hug him at the airport even though he's set apart, joking that "Jesus won't kill me." You thought it was funny.

I closed with counsel that your life moves forward, that any time we make mistakes our life still moves forward, and that he's going to love us in our imperfections. You said thanks, that's nice. You said you think you can call until six, so you'd go do laundry, get lunch, and talk to us a little later. We said "I love you," and I said goodbye.

Cleanup Notes

Carried forward from the cleaned canonical at Sources/02_processed/transcripts/2026-07-21_transcript_natalie-mtc-first-call.md: