Today has been a day of meetings and paperwork. While talking with our staff is fun, the paperwork isn't so much. The good thing about staying at the missionary guest home, however, is that not only do interesting people with interesting ministries come through the door, but they're people with stories.
I've found myself in the last two days hearing about an event in someone's life being alluded at the dinner table. I've started piping up, saying, "Tell me the story!" What rich experiences and adventures people have had! It seems this place would be a writer's paradise.
Just tonight I ate dinner with an 80-year-old woman everyone refers to as "Grandma." She's lived all her life in PNG. (I don't know where she originated from...possibly New Zealand.) She raised her family here, buried her husband here, and she lives far out in the bush somewhere. It seems she broke her hip, had to go to Australia, and now she's returning (with her daughter and a walker) back to the bush. They mentioned at dinner (in an off-hand manner) that to get home involves a flight and at least a 4-hour canoe (motor boat) ride. !!! I can't imagine!
After listening to our hostess interact with people around the table, I asked her what she was like as a little girl in school...for instance, did she like to chatter? She laughed and said, "Can you tell?" Then her husband started to say something and they both laughed and paused. So, I said, "Tell the story!" It seems her teacher was so exasperated with her chattering that he told her to "shut-up." This was back in the day that teachers just did not say things like that. So, our friend went to the open window and yelled out at the passers-by, "My teacher just said, 'shut-up!'" She got in trouble. (Dan, who was a bit of a prankster, himself, really liked that story!)
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