VI
HAVE NOT I SENT THEE?
THE S.S. Pan America on a brilliant morning docked off Brazil’s beautiful shoreline where the lush green palm trees lifted fronds against an azure sky. The boat travel must be changed to that of a small plane, which swooped and circled over the jungle of Cuiaba. This was an old mining town built on the banks of a river where at one time gold had weighted the riverbed. The vast Brazilian jungle formed a dense and luscious green curtain around the other three sides. From the airstrip they bounced over the cobblestones in an antiquated taxi through the quaint old-world city to the South American Indian Mission home, where they were to enter language study. Millie, who had prepared herself for the worst, found her fears soon dispelled. The South American Indian Mission home was an unbelievable surprise. It was a “home” in every sense of the word, with an older missionary couple there to take a personal and loving interest in each younger worker. It was an old-style house: large, bright, and airy. Beautiful
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