Mi Compenero Bakan!

Hey Everyone!
Today I wanted to share the true story of my companion, Elder Martin. He is the Spañard who I live with. He has a great conversion story and it is one that I wish he would share more often with our investigators. But I want to be able to remember it, so I will write it in this email.
Elder Martin was nine years old when he discovered the church. The missionaries were knocking his street and he didnt know who they were. He ran and sked his mom what two white kids were doing in Spain. His mother just shrugged and sadi she had no idea who they were. When they got to their door, Elder Martin´s mom abruptly rejected them. They left, but Rafael (Elder Martin) looked curiously out the window as they walked onward.
Weeks later, Rafael was tying his soccer shoes, getting ready to play another game. He liked it now. In fact, he loved it. Its almost hard to imagine back to the time when he was introduced to the game. When he was seven years old, there were tryouts for a junior little league. Rafael wasnt too interested; Soccer wasnt too interesting, just kicking a dumb ball around. But his father, eyes glistening with the vicariousness that all fathers get during sports tryouts, decided otherwise. "You are going to play Soccer," He said gruffly. "But I dont want to!" defied Rafael. His father, not to be talked back to, grabbed him by his hair, and dragged him to the soccer field to sign him up. Through the years, Rafael has grown to love the game, despite his brutal introduction to it. As he got ready to go out onto the field, the two missionaries came up to him again, this time with a different approach. "Hey, do you want to play soccer with us?" Rafael thought for a second. "Sure!"
They played all day and when the missionaries had to leave, they exchanged numbers. They began teaching Rafael in the spare room of the house becasue his mom and dad didnt want to listen to them. He went to church, the only one in Sevia, every week without fail. One time when it was raining, his father detested his plead to go to church, saying that he would get sick. Instead of obeying his paternal father, he obeyed his Heavenly Father and while his father wasnt looking, stiffed the pesos he needed for the metro ride to the church ten miles away. It was raining hard, but it didnt matter. That day, he was committed to be baptized at the beginning of February. He was so happy that the rain felt like drops of sunshine pouring onto his face. When he got home, his father was waiting for him. He hit the poor boy until he saw blood. He did not want a disobedient son.
Despite the obstacles and trials that Rafeal had to overcome to come to Christ, good always finds a way. On February ninth, Rafael Martin was baptized a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. He was happy. His Father was also happy. The one in heaven, watching. The only people in attendance were the missionaries, the bishop, and a couple members in the ward that he knew: Less than ten, including himself. His Mother told him that she was busy. He didnt even ask his father.
I dont know the whole story of how Elder Martin got to be Elder Martin. He overcame challenges that I will never face and became a valient servent of the Lord. I know that he endured many more encounters with his abusive father that to this day does not support him being a member of the church. He refused to spend even one cent towards his mission fund. But somehow the good finds a way through. A week before he left on his mission, Elder Martin had his first baprism; his mother. She is now first counselor in the Primary and loves sending her missionary letters.
I dont know everything about the story, but the important thing is the name he now bears. I am so grateful for this church and the changes it makes in peoples lives. Im thankful for you all and all the blessings I have recieved from being out here in chile.
I love you guys!
Con Amor,
Elder Westover