My wife and I participated in a missionary trip to Mufulira Zambia in July. We have so many take- aways from trip that I barely know where to start. We presented to our small group at church for over a half-hour and had to shorten our stories. They laughed and teased us by saying something to the effect that it was a shame we did not enjoy ourselves. Do I tell the story of Destiny, a Zambian man who led our worship experiences each day. What a heart for God he had. Do I tell the story of Gabriel, a local social worker, who did so much good work for the missionary team. He was a marvelous and passionate translator and teacher for us wherever we went. His heart shined when he translated one of our team members sermon. Do I tell the story of Sydney who drove us safely to places we never dreamed we would be and could have never found by ourselves. Do I tell the story of his gracious wife who made us all African style shirts? Do I tell the story of the board members of Murundu Hospital of Hope and how we were fed a wonderful meal at Dr. Chupundu’s home?
My goodness how many people were there–over 30 I believe. He was a very gracious host. Do I tell the story of the hard working and gracious ladies that cooked, cleaned, washed clothes and ministered to the team’s personal needs? Do I tell the story of a young bright young man named James who made us all laugh and cry and who my wife and I call our Zambian son. Lord do I tell the story of how the Chaney’s molded a team of people together, planned for months to host us, and led Bible studies that we did not want to stop. Do I tell the story of Leah, the Chaney’s daughter, who was youngest member of our team and worked so very hard. Lord do I tell the story of Lina, one of the missionaries with the Chaney’s that I know helped in so many different ways. What a sweet and quiet spirit she had. Lord do I tell the story of Ben another young missionary who I just wanted to follow and learn from. He had such a heart for the Zambians in the villages and the people in the villages had such a heart for him. Do I tell the story of how Rachel taught us to love on children? Lord how do I tell the story of how gracious the Zambian people are? Lord what story do I tell?
I want to tell the story of a little Zambian boy I will call Moe from the village I visited twice. I would estimate he was seven or eight. He just enjoyed walking around and holding my hand. He also enjoyed sitting on my shoulders. He sat on my lap. He did not talk a lot. We just enjoyed one another’s presence. I can still see his face and his deep brown eyes smiling at me.
I tell the story of the little boy whose name I never knew. This little boy had a treasure that nobody else had. He guarded that treasure. He clung to it. I did not see anyone try to take it from him though. It was a toy in a place where toys don’t exist. What was the precious treasure toy he possessed? It was a bicycle rim with a few spokes missing. It was a gold nugget to the young man. Lord what can I do for these people, these children?
~Walter (and Deb) Peck