So first a little Mormon culture trivia for you: when young people serve as missionaries they have a special unique vocabulary that utilizes the metaphor of genealogy. When you enter the country as a missionary, you are "born" in that city. I was born in Pécs, for example. Your first companion in the mission field is thus known as your "mother" or "father." Thus I was born in Pécs to Sister Gillespie. Some missionaries trace such "genealogies" and make a big deal out of them. I am one of those people.
I trained twice on my mission. My first daughter was Sister Welge in Szeged; my second, Sister Beech in Debrecen. My first greenie and I had kind of a rough transfer. I won't go into to detail except to say that it was all my fault. My second greenie had it made because I had learned my lesson with the first (Welge was my first pancake, if you will), and we were the best of friends. Sister Beech went home because of a medical condition after only three transfers (just a few months) so she was barren, as it were. Right before I went home, Sister Welge and I went on splits and had a long heart-to-heart in which I apologized profusely for the mistakes I had made, we made up and became friends. Hooray! No more estrangement!
Despite all that, and because of many other contributing factors, I sometimes wonder if my mission did anyone any good. I had a couple baptisms, but last I heard they are inactive. I worked with a lot of members but I don't know if much came of it. And I had one child on medical leave and one that hated me (until recently). I wasn't sure if it had been much of a success.
Not true! I just talked to greenie #1 (remember, we're friends now) and we had a great little chat. I found out that she opened Békéscsaba, one of the new cities I would have killed to open, annnnnd her daughter, my granddaughter, was also an amazing missionary and opened Kaposvár, the other city I wanted to open.
And thus, my mission was a success. I do rejoice in my posterity.