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In Congo, we were introduced to foods, such as insects, that I thought we could not handle.

My initial fears melted, and we thanked Jehovah for sending us to serve in Africa. That allowed us to see the diversity and beauty of the people. In time, we were privileged to make branch visits to some 13 other African countries. On it were the words “Blossom where you’re planted.” After meeting the brothers, conducting Bible studies, and experiencing the delight of being missionaries, we had newfound joy. One of the first things Lesli put up in our room was a card that she kept since leaving Canada. The branch office was an oasis of greenery and serenity. How do we know that we can’t do it and enjoy it unless we try?” So after 16 years in Estonia, we flew to Kinshasa, Congo. The next day when I told Lesli, we reasoned: “Jehovah is inviting us to go to Africa. Instead, I was the one who didn’t sleep, praying about my concerns regarding Africa. Initially, I didn’t mention it to Lesli because I knew she wouldn’t sleep that night. I was stunned, especially because I needed to reply by the next day. One evening in 2008, back in Estonia, I got a phone call from world headquarters asking if we would accept an assignment in Congo. Besides, I was afraid that we might be sent to a country in Africa that was affected by disease and war. It seemed that missionaries were special people, and I did not feel qualified. I had thought about Gilead School but had no desire to be a foreign missionary. Our circuit assignments were joyful and many, from British Columbia to Newfoundland. We drove to a lovely spot by a river, spread out a tablecloth, and had one of our most enjoyable days together. Were those words from Jehovah encouraging me to consider my wife’s emotional needs? After praying, I said to Lesli, “Let’s go,” which delighted her. As I sat at my desk, my conscience started to bother me. However, I explained to Lesli that I had talks to prepare and couldn’t go. There was no one there, just a picnic basket with a tablecloth, fruit, cheese, baguettes, a bottle of wine, glasses, and an anonymous note that read, “Take your wife on a picnic.” It was a beautiful, sunny day. Early one Monday morning, the doorbell rang. So how could we manage in the circuit work? Nevertheless, she said, “If Jehovah invites us to do something, should we not try to do it?” We accepted the assignment and enjoyed the traveling work for 17 years.Ĭircuit life was busy, and I didn’t always have enough time for Lesli. However, Lesli had been in a couple of car accidents and had difficulty sleeping. I felt quite young and inadequate, but the words of Jeremiah 1:7, 8 encouraged me. After a few years, I was surprised to be invited to serve as a circuit overseer at the age of 28. Lesli and I were assigned to serve in a French-language congregation in Quebec. However, some life-changing surprises awaited me. They encouraged me to take up pioneering, which I did in September 1966. Seeing how happy they were moved me to reevaluate my goals. There I met Ray Norman, his sister Lesli, and other pioneers. Finally, my Bible-trained conscience moved me to make changes. But I worked evenings thus, I regularly missed meetings and I associated with those who had no love for God. I found work at a local radio station as a disc jockey, a job I loved. I thought that if I became a pioneer, I would never make enough money to realize my dream of flying and seeing the world. Their strong love for Jehovah has strengthened me throughout my life.Īfter graduating from high school, I became somewhat distracted. That moved me to dedicate my life to Jehovah in 1956 at the age of ten.

Mom and Pop instilled in me a love for God. And each week we studied The Watchtower as a family. Almost every Saturday, even after working all night as a nickel smelter in Sudbury, Ontario, my father took me and my younger sister, Sylvia, in service. My parents’ English was limited, but they took the truth seriously. The seed of truth grew, and both my mother and my father quickly progressed to baptism. She was so touched by what she learned that she started to cry. One day, Jehovah’s Witnesses read Revelation 21:3, 4 to my mother. We were extremely poor, but at least we had eggs for breakfast. Our first home, near Ottawa, Canada, was a whitewashed corner of a chicken coop. It was then that they were preparing to move to Canada. My parents left Estonia during World War II and went to Germany, where I was born.