Wednesday, April 4, 2012
This week in the Hands Village, it's been really quiet. Slowly, people are making their way towards Zambia in preparation for a huge gathering called "Celebrations" that takes place in just a few weeks. One by one, the rooms around here have emptied out and I'm not going to lie, it's getting a little quiet. A few days ago, a nice family (again, one girl...two boys....seriously, what is going on!) has come to visit some friends who live here. They went to Africa School of Missions (just across the road) some years ago and have come to spend some time off here catching up with friends. I was talking to the boys about this family and we were talking about how nice their kids are. I asked my boys if they had asked the kids where they were living and why. The boys knew that although they are South African, they have come from Mozambique but didn't know why they lived there or what their parents did there. So, I explained that they are missionaries there. Easton got very quiet and his eyes just got bigger and bigger as I went on to explain that they worked as translators for a tribe far in the bush in Mozambique. They've been living there for five years, learning the language which, to this point, has only been verbal, and writing it down phonetically. Easton's fork was halfway to his mouth and not moving. I was amazed at how interested he was...but told him that the parents have now completed writing out the whole New Testament for this tribe, in their own language. At this point, Aidan is looking at Easton as well. He's completely spellbound. I asked him if he was ok. Suddenly, he shook his head and said, "What did you say they did?" I repeated, "They're missionaries in Mozambique?" and he dropped his fork in relief and said, "OOOOOH! I thought you said they were MERCENARIES! I thought this wasn't going to end well!!"