Walk to paradise

My first week going to church in Laie, I was surprised as I walked in the doors of the church to see open sky up above. The church was open to whatever the sky passed down, from wind to rain. How did the carpet survive bordering such exposure to nature? When we walked into the chapel, the sameness hit. Just like any other LDS chapel I'd ever sat in, there were choir seats in the front, a wooden pulpit, a high, pitched roof. The people were coming in as close to starting time as possible, finding their set pews. We were in trouble. We didn't know whose bench we were probably comandeering. The men in front all had white shirts. But their skin was brown, a deep, rich, brown in varying tones of light and dark. The backs of the heads in the congregation around us were mostly black. Mostly.
In contrast, we sat on the bench with our three red-headed children and our pale skin, waiting for the meeting to begin. Testimony Sunday would be a good thermoter for what type of ward this was. Granted, you never knew what you would get, and talks could be random, political, incoherent, or, in the best of wards, instensely spiritual and uplifting.