VESSELS OF HONOR / by Ruth Samarin
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The Scattered Manioc
E ditor ’ s N ote : We continue in this issue of the King’s Business, with a series of articles on missions for young people. They are printed by permission of the Brethren Missionary Herald. Ruth Custer Samarin and her husband are graduates of BIOLA. They are laboring in Africa under the Brethren Missionary organization. thrust her hand into the muggy hJr water to see if the soaking manioc was soft. It fell apart at her touch. She gathered the soaking roots into a basket and then put it on her head. She would not dry her manioc here at the river. There was a large flat rock up by the village where all the women gathered to dry their roots and to pound it into flour. Sara was pleased when she saw that nearly a dozen girls her age were working at the rock. She called out a cheery greeting and they answered in a chorus of “ eeees.” Sara spread her manioc in the warm sun and then squatted it to help chase the goats away from the precious food and to talk with her friends. They talked of many things till the sun was low in the sky. Then they gathered their work into their baskets and headed for home. One of the older girls brushed past Sara on the trail. She passed carelessly by, and before Sara knew what was happening, the girl had knocked the basket from her head. Sara took one look at two days’ work scattered in the dust and she turned with tearful anger on the older girl. “Why don’t you be more careful?” Sara cried. An angry response came from the mouth of the older girl. The girls shouted a t each other with mounting fury. Suddenly the older girl stopped and with disdain said: “How dare you talk to me that way, you child. I’m your superior because I’ve taken Nganza (a heathen cere- mony performed by girls as they reach their teens) and you haven’t. You’re still a baby!” The other girls giggled at this, and then they jointed in the taunting: “You’re still a baby; you’re still a baby!” iC * a r a
“ Stop!” came another voice. The girls turned to see Nambona, the vil lage pastor’s wife. The older woman took the tearful Sara by the arm and gently led her to the village. In the hut of the pastor Sara sobbed out her story. But Nambona was firm. “ Sara, you were wrong too. You should never have lost your temper. As to thé Nganza ceremony, you are right. Don’t be ashamed because you have not taken part. You have done the Christian thing. The man you are to marry is a Christian; he would not want you to take part in it either.” Sara nodded in agreement. It was a hard thing to bear the jeerings of her friends, but she had known before she became a Christian that that was part of a Christian’s life. She was sorry she’d lost her temper. The girl and the woman sat in silence for a long time while outside the pastors’ hut a man was intently pounding drums to entertain him self. Someone else sang a tune to its rhythm while stirring her pot of cook ing beer. No, they thought, it’s not easy to be a Christian, but it is good. God was with them, and it was the best road. Sara rose and went out to find her basket. She would soak other roots tomorrow. Their family might be two days without food, but Sara was sur prised to find no anger in her heart. Christian girl, your problems are certainly not much different in this respect from Sara’s. In our modern American culture, a girl that does not dance is “ different,” and often must stand alone. Don’t let it get you down. Expect it, face it sensibly, and realize that it is part of a life, much freer, and happier than your unsaved friends. But many Christian girls who disdain dancing will take part in the more serious offense of “necking.” Guard yourself as Sara did against any practice that is not honoring to your Christian testimony. Re-read II Timothy 2:20-22 together. Determine again to be a “ vessel of honor” in the house of the Lord.
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