It’s another gloomy day.

The sisters have been attending Pioneer School, H for the second time now and J the first. They’ve been studying diligently for the past month but it’s starting to wear them down.

How did I do this previously, they wonder. It has been a while since either of them has had to study.

After all, H graduated from college 3 years ago and J withdrew from her studies 2 years ago.

But still they grit their teeth, armed with an arsenal of glittery and colorful pens, cute animal post-its, and computers playing soothing music.

The Korean congregation my family attends has been assigned lunch duty for the first three days.

Day one the menu was 비빔밥 and my mother spent the morning getting the 고사리 나물 ready.

Day two was by a different service group and they made 2 kinds of curry.

Day three and the sisters are making 콩나물 밥 and 부추전 and my mother has spent all of yesterday afternoon and this morning frying the little Korean pancakes.

The smell of fried dough and vegetables permeate the whole house, the sizzling sounds of the oil crackles through the walls.

It’s familiar and comforting and I have a little tasting.

The crunch of the golden crust followed by the soft Korean chives and onions and a hint of ocean brininess from the squid melds together on my palate.

They’re delicious, I tell her.

My mother smiles. She’s proud. She knows they’re good, the entire hall has said she makes them the best.

I am envious of my sisters as they get to enjoy both the wonderful foods lovingly prepared for by the sisters as well as the spiritual upbuilding by Brother J, the cute Korean CO who can’t even finish a joke he’s laughing too hard.

At his own joke.

It’s endearing and the Korean circuit loves him, loves his humble and sweet wife. They’re sad to see them go.

I’m saddened as well, they’ve stayed during the C/O visits before and were the most gracious of guests.

I’ve started reading the new convention releases, and appreciate once more how Jehovah brings his organization together.