A Bunk Bed, a Banana Tree and a Dog: Personal Letters and Recollections Unfold Decades of a Family’s Growing Faith in God While Missionaries in a Developing Country

By Mary-Ellen Stroup

Never intended for anyone’s eyes except parents, these letters are now compiled by the author for her adult children to read and relive the life they loved growing up in Zaire, Africa (Democratic Republic of Congo). Stored by her mother-in-law in old film boxes for three decades, they serve as a record of daily life in a family learning to survive and thrive and do ministry in a developing country. Daily water and electricity and regular mail became luxuries to celebrate in prayer and praise. Often considered by others to be a unique life, in reading you may encounter the unique, but guaranteed are also some boring details that were not omitted in the copying process so the children would understand what life involved for their parents. Whether unique, boring or difficult, these were deemed a privilege by the author and her husband who regard themselves as simply obedient to a call to that life out of their deep love for Jesus, their Lord and Savior who loved them and gave his life for them.

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: Mar 16, 2021
• ISBN: 9781664219113

Mary-Ellen Stroup

Wife, mother and grandmother, Mary-Ellen loves each place and the people where the Lord led her and  her husband. Whether it was the business world, pastoral ministry in three states from the Midwest to New England, or being a French teacher or the international missionary life of 20 years, God has taught her that his plans and purposes are treasures beyond value, blessings to anticipate and surprises to enjoy. Not retired but “refired” you will find her welcoming guests, facilitating Bible study, playing violin, volunteering in state prisons, serving on mission trips, loving seven grandchildren, and happy on beach walks with husband, Bill.

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Copyright © 2021 Mary-Ellen Stroup.

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This book is a work of non-fiction. Unless otherwise noted, the author and the publisher make no explicit guarantees as to the accuracy of the information contained in this book and in some cases, names of people and places have been altered to protect their privacy.

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"Scripture taken from the NEW AMERICAN STANDARD BIBLE®, Copyright © 1960,1962,1963,1968,1971,1972,1973,1975,1977,1995 by The Lockman Foundation. Used by permission. www.Lockman.org"

Scripture quotations taken from The Holy Bible, New International Version® NIV®

Copyright © 1973 1978 1984 2011 by Biblica, Inc. TM. Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.

ISBN: 978-1-6642-1910-6 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-6642-1912-0 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-6642-1911-3 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2021900407

WestBow Press rev. date: 3/16/2021

To my dearly loved Mom, Gladys Evelyn Stroup, for seeing value in keeping these letters for so many years, and for the innumerable helps throughout years of our international ministry for which you are now receiving eternity’s rewards.

To my Lord, for giving Mom the gifts of perspective and administration that help us now to pass on this account, imperfect and incomplete as it is, so that lessons you taught us, can be remembered and teaching us and our family today.

To you my dearly beloved children—Janna, Billy, David and Laura—for making life in the journey on all three continents we lived, so sweet and special, loving and fun. Of course, your being in our lives required us to pack and carry what seemed like millions of boxes and bags of your stuff on planes and cars and trucks and trains and get passed through douane! Now I know just saying that each of you is remembering the luggage, backpacks, and boxes you carried and counted through eight countries in our travels. God gave me the greatest children. Dad and I cannot imagine this journey without you. We will forever praise the Lord for your presence in our lives.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Faithful partners in prayer as I worked on this project are also dear friends whose prayers uphold our family beginning with our first days of ministry in Zaire. These sisters of my heart and I have become the Princess Friends: Princess Summer, Nancy Toni Irish; Princess Fall, Lynn Hall, and Princess Winter, Mardy Robinson. Your Princess Spring thanks you for the lovingkindness that crowns each of your words of interest and encouragement.

For the wisdom, many do’s and don’ts advice, and hours of her life given to counsel in emails and to do a comprehensive edit, grateful thanks to my friend, Ann Boyle, who accomplished her dream to write the novel she envisioned since her youth—all experience she generously passed on to me. Your questions returned on the edit pushed me to write more reflections than I planned, thought necessary or possible. Seeing your perspective was an invaluable contribution to make this more complete. I appreciate your sense of pace, honesty and thoroughness, A.B.

The love of my life, Bill, gave me hours of time to listen, read, suggest, resolve computer quirks and join in at least a million readings and edits to the point of exasperation some days (for both of us). At such times I remembered you wanted this to be completed because of your love for me, for our family and for our Savior. Your faith led me in obedience to go where Yahweh wanted. Without it there would not have been these letters and the life that helped us see God’s hand in a bunk bed, a banana tree and a dog. Thank you, my Prince. Our life has been and will continue to be rich and fun beyond my wildest imagination.

image1MaryEllenMapofZaire.jpg

Map of Zaire

CONTENTS

Acknowledgements

September 1979 to December 1979

January 1980 to April 1980

May 1980 to December 1980

January 1981 to September 1982

September 1982 to April 1983

April 1983 to December 1983

January 1984 to December 1984

January 1985 to December 1985

January 1986 to July 1987

July 1987 to December 1987

January 1988 to December 1988

January 1989 to December 1989

January 1990 to December 1990

January 1991 to December 1991

January 1992 to July 1992

August 1992 to December 1993

January 1994 to December 1994

January 1995 to December 1995

January 1996 to October 1996

Epilogue

Footnotes

Be very careful never to forget what you have seen the Lord do for you. Do not let these things escape from your mind as long as you live! And be sure to pass them on to your children and grandchildren.

—Deuteronomy 4:9

Winter 2016

Dear Children,

Divine wisdom gave these words to Israel. God knew when his people entered the land he was giving them, they would be consumed with the day-to-day demands of living and would forget the way he had brought them to that place. They would not remember his blessings and the powerful deeds and the grace he showered upon them to keep his covenant to make them his people and accomplish his purpose for them so that the nations would see he is LORD. Those lessons were given to sustain them in their days and keep them faithful. But they were also given for our instruction today. We need that recorded history. The Israelites had to pass it down. They were commanded to repeat it to their children for as long as you live or it would escape from [their] mindsand be lost. It is notable that the Lord’s actions were not simply to be remembered and taught once, while they were new, but for as long as you live!

The biblical record of Israel’s history reveals the saddest of facts: that the generation after Joshua did not know God and the amazing deeds he performed so that they and the nations around them would know that he, Yahweh, is God. There was failure to pass on the story to next generations.

In a spirit of obedience to God’s words in Deuteronomy 4:9 I have prepared this document from our letters written from Zaire over the years we spent there. It is a record of life and lessons for the eyes of my children and grandchildren. It is the journal I never kept. It has become a way to pass a bit of family history on to my children and grandchildren. In doing so I am blessed to recall the days and events described that had begun to fade or even disappear from my memory.

I must say I did just what God knew his people would do. I became caught up in life and let things escape from [my] mind. When we reestablished ourselves in our country after living in Africa, learning how to live in the USA again and find a new purpose and a new career filled my days. I began to forget many of the lessons I had learned. I have spoken of only a few of them to you my children and grandchildren. As I look back from the perspective of this twenty-first century, our life there, which began in 1979, seems like something that occurred to someone else in another time.

Preserving this letter collection is my way of practicing Deuteronomy 4:9. I know of no better way to bring my family into that time than to share these letters. Here’s a warning to my children: many are going to be filled with mundane business details. For your dad and me, they were part and parcel of keeping life going as best we could. These details will not be interesting to anyone, including me! And certainly, these letters were never meant to be read by anyone but the addressees—your grandparents, our parents. If I had thought I would be doing this one day, I might have tried to write better! But in sharing these letters, I must believe you, our children, will gain new insights into yourselves. You are now the ages we were at the time of writing! All the business stuff that entered a letter could have been eliminated, but I left it as written to give you a sense of what we did to create a family life and ministry that would make life more pleasant for all of us and glorify God in the process as we learned a new culture, used new languages, and lived to accept with grace (most of the time) some daily hardships that were not part of life in the USA, but soon became the norm.

From the first note I wrote home my heart’s desire was to bring your grandparents into our life. They and we were feeling the distance. I wanted each of them to be as informed and as much a part of our life as they could. I did not want our life to be foreign to them. I promised not to hide anything that was difficult and asked them to do the same. So, the letters flowed.

I owe a debt of love to Grandma, my mother-in-law, Gladys Evelyn Stroup, who saved the hundreds of air grams and other letters we sent to the States. She had told me several times, I have your letters. It was not until after her death in 2002 that I really discovered how many of our letters she had, when I found them in metal film boxes in her home. I was in grad school at the time, and a professor challenged us to write about what we knew. I thought of those letters and decided to do something with them, someday.

In 2007 when Grandpa Stroup died and the many details of closing his home were complete, I took home the boxes of letters and placed them on a shelf with plans to look at them someday. A few years later they were moved again with our household and put on a new shelf.

In the winter of 2011, I heard a challenge that went something like this: What is it the Lord wants you to do that is uniquely yours to do? The letters came to mind. My someday had arrived. I started to enter the letters into a computer file. Then I hit a snag. I finished the last letter, but it concluded with the end of only our first year in Zaire; decades of letters were not there. With regrets that it could not be complete, I stopped there.

In the spring of 2015, I found the second box of letters. It contained many more years of letters. With gratitude and joy, I praised the Lord for hours. Commitments kept me from restarting, but eventually I resumed in 2016.

Here is a word about the process. Tempting as it was, rather than read the letters first, I decided to pull them out one by one and enter them into my computer without first reading. They were saved in chronological order. While typing I immediately began to remember long-forgotten experiences. Some days I became either emotionally wrought or exhilarated. Each letter took its toll. And nightly my dreams were set in Zaire and sometimes brought disturbing and restless sleep in Swahili. I learned to limit my typing times!

Built into the process was the decision that Dad and I would keep the project a secret from you, our children. The longer it has taken, the more tempting it has been to tell you! But we wanted it to be complete, so we layered our eagerness with patience, as we eventually both worked on the letters to bring them into a fitting presentation for you. It is part of our legacy to you. We believe you should have this. It is a large part of your history growing up and a necessary addition to your understanding events you experienced as children. We are eager for the questions these letters will generate and the conversations that will follow.

You will soon see that a section of the 1980s is missing. As I write now, I plan to compose a summary of those years for all of us, but it will miss the on-the-spot reporting of events as they happened. It makes me regret that I did not develop the good habit of journaling. I count these letters as just that. We will ask Grandma when we see her in glory what happened to her careful collecting! Nonetheless, we have a treasure in the others.

The writing begins with a postcard, but the journey began decades before. As youths both Dad and I made committments to serve the Lord and pursue the path he chose. Having given his heart to the Lord at the tender age of four, when Dad was twelve he dedicated his life beside a campfire with the resolve that even though he did not like heat, he would be willing to serve the Lord in Africa. As an older teenager he fine-tuned that service to include teaching in a Bible school or college.

For me the journey began at the age of nine during a week of summer camp when it was explained to me that Jesus died on the cross for my sin. I prayed to thank him and asked him to forgive my sins. Jesus became my Savior. In Bible college, I recall being sure that if I were a missionary it would be the worst life I could choose. In time faith grew the conviction that to know the Lord’s will and obey it would be the best and only choice I wanted for my life, even if that meant being a missionary overseas.

The journey became more defined ten years into marriage. With degrees, business and pastorate experience, seven moves in three states and two children, we were restless, with a sense there was something else we should be doing; we began seeking to know the Lord’s will more clearly. In 1978 when we were expecting David, we participated in a week of mission conference at our church on Cape Cod. Our lifelines to that point emerged to match the needs of the Church in Zaire, Africa. Diverse career experiences that seemed not to align with previous goals, desires and educational pursuits, immediately blended to let us see the plan our Creator had designed for us. We were headed to Zaire. The decision was only the beginning and perhaps the easiest step. Following it meant months of preparation until we were ready to depart in September 1979.

Before you read and journey back to the beginning of the letters, here are two items of explanation. First, the heart of this document is a collection of letters. As such it represents informal writing, not formal. In formulating this book, I have chosen to preserve the informal original conversational flavor of the letters with the exception that I did use paragraphing which had been abandoned in many of the letters when we chose to get more writing space by not making paragraphs. I also retained contractions, ordinal and cardinal numbers rather than number words and left the methods for emphasis such as quotation marks, underlining, some italics etc., as is common when writing letters.

Second, after the close of many letters I have written commentary, presented in a different font. Some are details that were not included in the letters because of space or time. Some are memories of the lessons or events that I cherish in my heart and want you to know.

Now read on.

I love you more than I can express, Mom

September 21, 1979

Hello! It’s 26 hours and 5 meals since we have seen you! We had a 45 minute fuel-stop in Athens. Plane arrangements have been great. Had a baby bed for David last night (across the Atlantic Ocean) and a hammock tonight. Meals are more than enough for David, too. We enjoyed the Belgian pastries with our meals. Free Pampers in ladies’ room at airport in Brussels—great! Our French vocabulary has increased already. I had my first culture shock trying to find out what baby food I was allowed in airport cafeteria as stamped on food voucher (that we were entitled to). I got a shish kabob and potatoes, pastry and milk. A room was not included in ticket (required extra money), so we enjoyed the Sabena lounge—private and comfortable. Kids enjoyed their goodies in bags and we all got a 2 ½ hour nap (napped on floor easily, as we had then two nights of little sleep). People look like USA until they talk. Janna and Billy are traveling like veterans—love the plane food on trays, pillows, etc., know when to use seatbelts. Marj has been assisting with the children. Have enjoyed learning from her—says we will have 85-90 degree days! Did not think it would be that hot. Note printed upside down under address space: Arrived and crossed border easily—Praise Him! Have lovely house! Letter coming.

This note was written on a Sabena post card and mailed from Nairobi to Thelma Draper, who was your MomMom and whom we called Mother in the letters. Once we were settled aboard waiting for departure these minutes may have been the first ones I had to record some memories. It expresses the basic positive highlights of the trip to what seemed our halfway point. Yet there were moments of discomfort preceeding this that would need some reflection to understand. One came at our departure through customs from Belgium where agents reacted with consternation at the many carry-ons we put on the check-in area, which had been allowed exiting the US. We did not understand French then and felt attacked as they immediately began to limit our number of items, although we tried to clarify that there were five of us. In Europe at the time, bags were strictly limited, no matter what had been allowed on a passenger’s previous flight. In time years of traveling taught us to expect anything and, in Africa especially, it was common to have agents question your bags and rifle through the contents of your locked bags. This was one of the customs that we would learn to accept and, like it or not, be patient, act undisturbed. On our first trip due to the language barrier and not a little to fatigue, it was upsettling.

Another discomfort followed shortly. The memory remains with me still, my feelings on the walkway as I boarded the plane that would take us to Africa, seeing we were surrounded not only by strangers, but by foreigners: those airline clerks, the many robed and turbaned travelers, many skin shades, strong and new scents, hearing numerous languages, all sounding like babbling. With each step I thought, Here we go to another world. Funny isn’t it, that I considered them the foreigners? Who did I think I was? Wasn’t I a foreigner there? Yes, I felt my foreignness and it was most uncomfortable. I was surrounded with the reality of our decision to obey and go.

I would never have expected it, and could not have known it then, but God would take away that uncomfortable feeling of foreignness and replace it with a new normal. At some point living in our new country, we realized it was the only place we wanted to be. It became the place we were the most comfortable. It became home.

People wearing different clothes, their scents and using a unique body language, speaking multiple languages in one conversation—usually interspersed in one sentence—well, it became our world. Yes, it was another world, but one where we fit very well. We believe God gave us a gift for living in a crosscultural setting. It did not happen within a few days, or even a few weeks. Rather it occurred gradually over months. We lived a day at a time, walking step by step into our new life, just as we had walked step by step onto that plane, tentative if depending on ourselves yet confident in God’s leading.

Wednesday, September 26, 1979—five days into arrival #1

Dear Mother, Mom and Dad—and others!

Where do we begin to tell you of all we have experienced thus far—sights, sounds, and smells that will forever after cause us never to be the same? First, I’m sending a postcard written on the plane, so hope it arrives with this. There has been no MAF¹ or other plane out so we have not been able to send mail. We hope that we can get our mail out on a plane to Nairobi tomorrow. The Lord’s watch care of us has amazed us and our colleagues. Upon leaving Brussels, we were forced to put all hand luggage in the hold. Really gave us an argument in French!² Quickly I grabbed out of David’s bag what I’d need for the next twelve hours. Then we boarded, not locking our luggage because of the rush and being thankful not to be charged excess baggage for those pieces (5).

We then had our stop in Athens, then Bujumbura, Burundi, then Kigali, Rwanda, then boarded a Piper for Cyangugu, Rwanda, where we were met by Jim Neil who drove us across border to Bukavu.

At Bujumbura we got off plane and waited 50 minutes or so. Our first steps on African soil, so we paused and photographed the children by the plane, the mountains, etc. In Bukavu, our friends paled as we casually said we’d taken pix there. Here only a month ago, missionaries were made to leave that area!! And previously, Jim Neil had had a camera taken away because he took pix in Burundi.³ Whew! Our traveling companion was ahead of us and didn’t see us do it, but the Lord protected us.

Later in Kigali when we finally got our bags and hand luggage, our hand luggage had been opened, zippers were still opened! Our address book was taken—HELP! Please pass the word—we are without any friends’ or families’ or churches’ addresses, other than what we can remember! A few other items taken, too! ⁴

On the Piper (to Cyangugu, Rwanda), Janna and Billy and I were air sick due to no sleep, heat and bumps. That was only forty minutes.

At the border of Rwanda and Zaire (Cyangugu), no difficulties at Rwanda and at Zaire (Bukavu) we had only two papers for Bill to sign and one for me. Recently folks have had twenty-five. No bribe was attempted. A Free Methodist fellow was told only days before it would cost around $1000 a person to bring folks in, so we were prepared for the worst! That the Lord wants us here is so evident.

We have eaten most of our meals with Neils. But yesterday and today have begun to eat at home—breakfast and lunch. Marilyn had purchased some supplies for us and today her son Marc helped us at the boucherie (meat shop). We have been sleeping at home and have gotten into our schedule immediately—all of us! Praise the Lord. We are abnormal—it’s supposed to take a week or so.

Our home—wow—it’s beautiful. Belgian style, all tiled floors, huge living- dining area, African made sofas (2), 25x14 foot fireplace and stone bookshelves, two double patio doors off living room and one double door off dining room; view of Lake Kivu and the mountains (in Rwanda) from these rooms and the study and our bedroom. Off dining-living rooms is a tiled patio, then the yard slopes down to road. Two 6 foot poinsettias trees in yard (fenced). Bamboo trees off to one side—2 banana trees on one side of house – crocus and many other flowers. We are in dry season and I’m told it is ugly here now, but I see purple trees and brilliant salmon colored flowers, etc.

Large sort of double kitchen, electric stove, which shocked Bill badly until he and Jim properly grounded it. Teeny weeny electric refrigerator, which will be replaced when regular one is fixed. (Bill hopes to do it.) 500 zaires has already been spent (equals more than a couple hundred dollars).

Janna and Billy and David have large rooms. Janna has a sink, desk, dresser, a chair and bookcase bed in hers. Billy and David have a bunk bed, trundle bed, dresser, crib (borrowed for a while) and chest closet⁵ and night stand (large room!). A small bathroom is next to that room—toilet and sink.⁶ A very large bathroom next to that. Bathtub amuses kids. It’s about 6 feet long and when we sit in it its sides come as high as our neck, so it’s HUGE for them! It has ceramic tile finished sides to floor. Large storage closet there with double sliding doors. Hot water in bath, but not in kitchen.

Our room is 12x14: queen size bed, one small bureau, one large with doors to lock for keeping money, etc., large closet with shelves. Actually we have more storage space than we could ever use now. Oh, in dining room is mahogany furniture, 8 foot buffet, hutch and twelve or so cane seat chairs. (a massive table accommodates all the chairs) Belgian style African made furniture is massive and is still in all the homes, because it couldn’t be carried away in the revolution.

There is a storage room beside the kitchen when we keep our barrels for flour, rice, etc. On the negative side, water has been off all day every day we’ve been here. It’s a job collecting water at night, boiling and then putting (it) through the filter (for) our drinking water.

We’ve had dozens of 6 inch cockroaches in bathrooms our first night. Came up from sewers through the pipes. But plugging up holes and stoppers in tub and sinks has kept them away. We do have the geckos—house lizards—to the kids delight and my amazement. The Lord has given me a peace I know is not my own. I am not a bit bothered to be brushing my teeth and have one shoot down the wall or eye me as I sit in the tub.

The children are absolutely enthralled with life here: the banana tree in our yard (we have eaten some), our lizards, iguanas outdoors, our zamu and zamu hut (night guard and where he sleeps outside. Yes, we have a real hut beside the house), learning Swahili, our day boy, Mugomoka, and zamu, Cheeza, and our watch dog, Honda.

There are bars on all windows and doors and double locks on doors and chests! The iron bars are ornamental, a bit, but a necessity.

Will give you more details about our help: I am the madame (muh dah’me) and Bill is Bwana. Imagine! This house has not had a woman in it for several years. Dirty. (The missionary on furlough is a widower as of last term and kids are grown; a 20 year old lives in town. In an attic here in house are his goods, stored till after furlough.) The day boy was hired a few months ago and has no experience with our mission, so I get to try him out – oh, dear. He is invaluable, I am finding out. He knows Swahili of course and some French and (I) am discovering or rather resurrecting my high school French. He comes at 7:30 and leaves 3:30. The night guard comes at 4:00 P.M. and leaves about 7:00 A.M.

This man, Mugomoka, has been a day boy before and has been taught well. If I don’t give him work to do, he begins scrubbing floors or dusting. We have a ringer washer with a broken wringer (Bill hopes to fix that!) So today he washed and dried and ironed clothes (sheets, too), helped me de-bug a 45 kilo sack of flour (never have I seen such bugs). Three siftings did not do the trick, so I put one of those knee high nylons you gave me at airport, Mother, onto the bottom of the sifter and got bugs out that way. Mugomoka said, Mzuri! (good) He has helped me wrangle (haggle?) for vegetables at the door (nine people yesterday and three egg ladies and a beggar). He gets the price down and helps me figure the money. I check out his deals with missionary friends and he is doing well. The vegetable people carry huge baskets on their heads.

A week ago I would never have guessed I could be using Swahili and French and be scrubbing my potatoes with maji and sabuni (water and soap)!

We have school with kids in the morning. Bill at Press. Swahili at home here with Jim Neil for 2-3 hours in the afternoons for three months or so. Bill is learning vocabulary well. I’m getting a household vocabulary.

We are well, happy; will continue a second form. Ending notes: Neighbors are Free Methodist missionaries: daughter, 7, son, 9, and baby 1 year. Woman a pediatric nurse!! Our 1st package came! Use the Goma BP address for packages. All amazed about package mailed in May. Told us we’d get it next September!

Love you dearly, Mary-Ellen and Bill

Walking into the home we were given for this year brought a sense of relief on several levels. The obvious one is that we were finally at our destination that would be home for this season. Then also because we saw that we were provided a place where we could be comfortable and in not so unfamiliar surroundings indoors. We would adjust to any unusual or more European additions. As in many European homes, the toilet is separated from the bathroom, which contains a bidet and tub or shower. A WC exists as a practical measure so that if someone is bathing in the tub, another person can still have the toilet available to him.

Did we know that we were on a learning curve of great importance? Observing that people in other countries have different perspectives about how to make life work gave us broader, interesting perspectives. We began to see differences as simply that, and not as odd or strange (which is a common reaction to differences). We considered some of these perspectives as quite unique and more than being interesting, they made great sense. In adopting some, our lives were enriched.

If we had not been obedient to God’s call to pack up our household and say goodbye to loved ones, we would have missed out on the lessons in faith God had for us to discover. 2 Thessalonians 5:24 became my first-hand experience: He who calls you is Faithful, who will also do it.

I cannot help relating the many, many times I have seen that my husband had a faith like Abraham’s, the one who believed and followed God to move out to a land he did not know. God would reveal the way to Abraham and would bless his obedience beyond Abraham’s imagining. Genesis 12:1-3.

A few days after my marriage to Bill, we were putting faith to practice, leaving on our journey of more than 1400 miles, moving away from family, friends and all that was familiar. In a private moment standing in my bedroom with Mother as we hugged one last time, amidst tears she looked up at me and said, If I did not know how much he loved you and how much faith he has, I could not let you go. She repeated almost the same words a decade later as we prepared to go to Zaire.

The preceding letter includes a description of the home we were given to use as ours this first stay in Zaire. The impact of those moments can best be appreciated if I relate a discussion and a struggle that took place the summer before our departure from the States.

As parents we sought ways to prepare our three children for the changes it would bring to our lives and to begin to see what it meant to walk by faith. Janna was 6, Billy 4 and David 9 months old. One time of preparing came spontaneously during a breakfast table conversation.

Using the box of cereal as an example of differences, I explained that we most likely would not have Cheerios in stores in Bukavu. There were bananas on the table and I guess I wanted to be positive and said, In Zaire we will have lots of bananas. And we will see how they grow because banana trees grow in that country. I do not recall any reaction but they were sweet, compliant children and probably said, Okay.

Billy had something else on his mind and asked if he could have a bunk bed there. He had been thrilled to get a twin bed in our home that he called his giant’s bed. I did not know he might like a bunk bed. I explained we would be living for the year in someone else’s house and using their furniture, but if he wanted a bunk bed someday that seemed like a good idea and we could get him one.

Well, next he or Janna asked, Can we have a dog? We did not have one of those either, so I was surprised. I presented an adult perspective as I posed the question for them that went something like, Would it be kind to get a dog and have to leave it when we return to our country? I know other missionaries have dogs and we can enjoy theirs, and another time get a dog of our own.

Upon entering our Bukavu home on day one, we saw God provided the bunk bed for Billy, the dog left in our care and not only banana trees which we could see growing somewhere, but banana trees right there on the property! Three items discussed with the children, and two that they specifically requested, were provided for us! (I must note that, at a later time, we would be able to buy a box of Cheerios, albeit for the exorbitant price of about twelve dollars!)

When we awoke on the day after our arrival, the stalk of bananas was no longer on the tree and we guessed it had been stolen. However, we discovered that one of the house workers had cut it down and hung it in a shed in the yard for it to ripen. We had no idea the stalk needed to be separated from the tree to allow ripening, nor did we know the stalk was ready. Only once the stalk was cut down would the skin change from deep green to the yellow of which we are so familiar. Further, we learned that it takes a year for a stalk of bananas to develop on a tree, but one just happened to be ready upon our arrival! Amazing.

I had not asked the Lord to provide these things specifically for us in response to my young children’s questions. I wish I had. But seeing them on day one of our arrival in Zaire taught me anew that I had a heavenly Father who cared deeply for my children’s needs. He showed me that He would supply even these little ones’ simple desires and we could put our trust in Him. He was there and He would supply all that we needed in this new place.

This was a significant moment for me. It transported me back to a struggle that occurred a few months earlier. I had been sitting in our den in Cape Cod Massachusetts reading Philippians. I had begun to have doubts about our decision to go to Zaire, thinking of the difference a career in Zaire would make in the lives of our children, and I feared what those differences might mean to their development. After all, they would not be able to participate in band activities, sports, and youth groups as Bill and I had in school; they would not see snow; they would not know their grandparents . . . these and other negative ideas had repeatedly disturbed my day. I had taken a few quiet minutes to sit and read Scripture to settle my mind and pray.

In Philippians, I came to Paul’s bold declaration in chapter 3:7 Whatever things were gain to me, these I have counted as loss for Christ. Yet indeed I also count all things loss for the excellence of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord . . . I started crying and then had to stop reading at the next part, for whom I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish.

I thought, Lord, the good school experiences Bill and I had are our part of the ‘whatever things were gain’ and the children and our hopes for them are too. I don’t think I can count them as loss and rubbish. He seemed to ask me to remember how the children came into my life. I remembered in a flash that not many years before when we were told not to expect to have our own biological children. Janna had come into our heart and life through adoption at only five days old. Twenty-two months later, Billy had been a surprise and welcomed pregnancy. Then, even though we thought it would not happen again, less than three years later, we were surprised again with David.

Okay, Lord, I thought, You have put these children into my hands. You knew before they were born how and where they would be raised. It was me who did not know it would be in Africa! I do count them as ‘gain to me,’ I cherish them because they are blessings from you. Surely, you do not see them as rubbish, but, as important as they are to me, I know that I must consider even them not as important as what I need to do to know you better. If it comes to that—if I start to consider them more important than my relationship with you—I want you to erase that from my thinking. Change my perception that it is my role to plan their lives. Help me not to keep them in my closed hands, but rather open my hands and offer them completely into your care, and wisdom and plans.

Leaving my concerns for the children with the Lord we dedicated our days to preparation for the ministry in Zaire. Many people joined us in prayer for specific aspects of the journey to Zaire and, in particular, in prayer for the children. I credit those prayers for what we discovered waiting for us in our new place. As I took my first walk through our new home, seeing the Father’s clear provision for the children in light of their innocent questions at breakfast that day, my heart was comforted beyond expression. For this child of faith, these were not coincidences. God had made these simple concerns of my children the object of his attention. Any lingering fears for what lay ahead in this year dissolved, because of a bunk bed, a banana tree, and a dog.

Friday, October 5, 1979 #2

Dear Mom and Dad and Mother, 63911.png Happy Birthday, Mother! 63913.png

This is our second letter to you. I wrote on Wednesday. September 26th, but a plane did not take it until the 1st of October ( 63917.png ). I’ll try to write every week, but getting letters out is difficult right now.

We are in an intensive Swahili study. Jim Neil is teaching us here at home two to four hours Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, Friday and then we are to study no less than two hours, preferably three to four. Our first exam is Monday. We are making good progress. The language is all phonetic. All the verbs have a ku or ki and usually an a or e ending and then a pronoun prefix followed by a tense prefix and then the verb. So the words get long. Tulijifunza is we learned or we studied. Then all the nouns belong to eight classes each with a set of prefixes for the singular and plural forms. It goes on and on!

A lot of study. Our final is for Bill to preach at our church and me to give a devotional at the ladies’ Bible study.

Had an interesting week. Really feel like we’ve had our welcome to Africa: Billy had a chigger in toe on Monday. Janna and Billy went downtown with our Free Methodist neighbors and came home itching. Must have sat on a chair where an African had sat. They were flea-bitten. I had a chigger—2 in same spot on toe today. And we hired a 15 year old girl to be a baby-sitter. Then had to fire her on Thursday because she stole one of my two bottles of Charlie that I brought over and a bottle of deodorant and had pocketed a mirror which we found on her. (Billy did!) It’s a long story to relate in the future. She was a great help, but we were suspicious because she would wander in and out of our rooms and open cupboards. Felt so disappointed. It was a help to have her care for David so I could teach Janna and Billy and study in mornings. Then during David’s naps, she prepared vegetables, washed toys (everything gets so dirty), or did other odd jobs. The last two days she came, she washed David’s diapers first thing in the morning. Neighbors’ sitter must have hinted that she do that as it is one of his jobs. Well, we hope to get a girl from the church. I really can’t keep ahead of the food preparation and teaching, studying. Mugomoka is busy doing dishes, clothes, ironing and house cleaning.

Haven’t told you about the house boys.⁷ They arrive 7:30 and work until 3:30. Ours is so great! If he is ironing, he finishes even if he has to stay until 4:00. Then he may ask to go home early an hour or so once in a while and we certainly don’t mind. He got involved in the drama of our thief and came to write us a note saying he saw her opening our cupboards. He helps me deal with the beggars and vegetable people. Once came and told me to beware of the ivory salesmen: They usually case a home in daylight and return at night to make a hoist.

By the way, we do not have water all day long. On Sunday it came on about 3 P.M. and that’s the first time we’ve had it that early. Tonight it didn’t come on until 9 P.M. and it goes off by 6 A.M. This house has a 100 gal storage tank in the yard next to a dilapidated utility sink. So we have the zamu keep that filled and before he leaves on some mornings he is supposed to fill the washer with hot water for that day’s laundry. As soon as water comes on we fill several plastic jugs to keep in the kitchen so we can keep our water filter operating for our drinking water. Then we fill the sinks so we can all wash our hands during the day. And we fill the bathtub for emergencies, like flushing the toilet when we can’t take the odor! Or we use that for rinsing a dirty diaper! Or washing dirt-black feet, etc. So life here, has some—in the middle of that Bill asked me to check his toe and sure enough he had a chigger, too! You must be careful to remove the critter and all of the egg sack or else it multiplies. Ours were sore, but we’re told they get itchy. Well as I was writing … life here has its (unique) difficulties. Time for bed.

Wednesday, October 10, 1979—Had a busy week-end and much studying for that exam. I was behind. Bill got 103 in written and 98 in oral. I had 98 written and 86 oral. Have much to tell you. Want to tell you about the kids, the town, food, church, our new sitter, hired Sunday at church, etc., but first have a few items of business, then will write and if I run out of space, I’ll continue on a new air form. If not before, I know these will go out to Nairobi next week with Marilyn.

Dad, if you receive a letter from American Express with a new card in it, will you send us the card? We’d like it for the return trip in case we do stop off somewhere. Then, we may have given you less money than we thought and told you. I found a card and that cash still in it in my purse. I thought I’d gotten all the envelopes emptied. Also, we found our address book!!! It was in Bill’s backgammon game. A few other items are gone though. We are working on a prayer letter to go to headquarters next week via Nairobi, so we hope you have it by early November, Mom. Then we know we must get right at a Christmas one! Another thing, Dad, is that Bill did not mention to you if you would do our income tax- just a short form. He’s having the three places he worked send a W-2 form to you. (from A. Systems, Camera business and Printing shop and then a final statement from our church.)

We appreciate all your help. We wonder if you ever got the payment of money due us for the care sale. Due to be sent out 9/22 and will be interested to know how those are being kept up. When we know the best way to do it, we will be sending exposed film to you to have developed and to keep for us. I finished the prints I had in camera at airport. We’re told everyone sends it to states. At the end of my roll (prints) are 2 pictures of our home and one of our view and women on a road who were walking in front of the house – a common view.

Well, I think that is the business. (Oh, of course develop film out of our account, natch.)

We have had tiring and discouraging days. No water from Saturday to Tuesday made for some careful planning as we did not know when we would see it again. It returned from 12 midnight to 1:30 A.M. Wednesday morning. Bill heard it in the toilets, got up and filled everything and zamu filled storage tank (one of his nightly jobs).

Then, Janna and Billy and Bill and I have hundreds of bites on us. Can’t find any bed bugs, but we have sprayed mattresses and rooms. Billy is especially bumpy. Wonder if he got into some poison vegetation, or else we are flea-bitten. Maybe have a few mosquito bites thrown in!

On Saturday we discovered some of the dog’s food in Mugomoka’s bag as he left for home (a lot!) He readily admitted he was taking it for his dog (or family, we wondered?) We buy a cheap grade of rice and add soja (soy) flour to make dog food – one of his jobs. Well, our neighbor saw him leave on other occasions with his purse bulging. Hating to fire him, Bill told him to return on Monday and we’d decide over Sunday what to do. He is an excellent worker, keeps busy all day, does well everything that he does, is organized—oh, you should see his ironing! Our wash is clean and looks like it came from a (PROFESSIONAL) laundry. So, knowing that after four years, Marilyn’s boy takes all week to finish the laundry and still can’t iron, I did not want the job of training someone who may or may not know how to run a ringer machine, boil water or use soap, etc., etc. We like this man’s attitude in that he admitted to stealing even when that means he lost face and he is so good at his work, which to us must count as something. We decided to keep him after a stiff talking to (thru Jim Neil).

Our new sitter is a Christian young fella (20?) with a ten-month old or so child. Bahati (good luck) is his name. He knows a little English and is so-o talkative. Is keeping an eye on Janna and Billy as well as caring for David. He’s smart and watches how Mugomoka works, helps him and prepares vegetables under my direction. (Oh, we had to laugh: Monday while talking to Mugomoka, he said he stole because the devil made him do it!) We hope things go well with this new fella.

(We)Left home three weeks ago but seems like months ago! We feel a bit isolated already. So crazy that we can’t mail a letter! Have heard only a little World Series news from our neighbor who has a short wave and gets Voice of America. Our CB is only for around town.

Miss you all so. Love, Mary-Ellen

As this letter begins, it is obvious that my head was in language. It was not easy to spend hours studying Swahili, learn so much, be courageous to speak it, then find yourself stumbling along to put it to use. Yet, ultimately we discovered it truly brought many other benefits to our lives beyond the main objective of survival and communicating with the people we were called to minister beside. Eventually, it led me to teach for several years in Bukavu Christian School, and also to teach the women at the Bible School, and later, women at the Seminary in Bunia. Time spent learning Swahili in those early days of ministry made it easier to learn French when we attended the Sorbonne University in Paris. Linguists attest that language acquisition trains the brain to rethink, develop new synapses, enables one to learn additional languages, plus it leads to better understanding of your first language. All giant blessings hidden in our first wobbly, baby steps of language acquisition.

This taste of language necessary for survival in daily life would lead to a life-long love of teaching language, particularly French. Those experiences brought about a position in a high school in New Jersey. That teaching career supplied support for the family while Bill started a business and waited for it to provide income. Teaching French also led me to fulfill a life-time goal of attending graduate school. This was all part of the Lord’s plan that we could not see at the time. I think we were faithful to our studies and curious to see if we really could learn to speak another language. If we felt early frustrations and embarrassment, it was worth it when French and Swahili began to fill our heads and fall off our tongues easily. And native speakers could understand! The ability to learn languages was another yet untapped gift this journey had brought to the surface in us.

How interesting it is to me in retrospect that some veteran missionary women hoped I would choose to do ministry with the women. I had never done women’s ministry until our time living on Cape Cod and even that I had tried to avoid. When our Bible Study leader had to leave our group, she had actually assigned me as leader. I had tried to object but eventually had agreed and led the ladies for several months. The ladies who were in that study have remained my good friends since then. I now know that the Cape Cod group experience was another kind preparation for what the Lord had in store for me in Zaire.

Wednesday, October 10, 1979 #3

Dear Mother, Mom & Dad,

I will just continue on a little more today. I know you have noticed that I am not paragraphing, because I know I can write more, but I’m hoping it is not too rambling.

A bit about Bukavu: the town is very run down. Buildings are in disrepair, streets have pot-holes that would shame PA after a hard winter! It was once beautiful as evidenced by some of the nice homes that have been kept up, and large schools, not run down, etc. Pre-revolution days did not allow Africans in town. Now of course things are in their charge. There are stores for most everything but prices are amazing because of being imported—Bill saw a pint of Worchestershire sauce for 24,50 zaires (close to ten dollars). He got one in Rwanda yesterday for about half that, a little better, but still terrible. It will last all year! It is a very hilly city. Our view of the lake would make it seem that the lake is only a matter of yards across the road and below us, but there are many levels of hills and houses below and roads, too. This has been called Africa’s Switzerland.

It was dry season when we arrived. Rain began a few days last week. Immediately our grass became greener and flowers bloomed around the patio. For six months it will rain two or three times a day for 10 or 15 minutes at a time. (Usually right after the wash is hung outdoors!) We are told it is a cyclical rain, so once it gets established, we’ll know what time to expect the mvua! (Yes, rain is a new vocabulary word.)

The land and country are beautiful. Want you to see our yard: about 6 banana trees, a large and full avocado tree. One tree near front is blooming and reminds me of gardenias (?) There are the poinsettias I have mentioned, daisies, four o’clocks, roses and bushes of I-don’t-know-whats lining our walk—they’re ready to bloom. A crocus-like flower fills a planter that lines the patio. And Wandering Jew appears to be a ground-cover. Time for dinner. One thing about the stores: they have one or two items of a kind and if it is out, it is coming next week, but that can mean never, too. Also the items are beat and labels are yellowed like they’ve been around for years or are well-travelled.

Friday, October 12—It’s a beautiful sunny morning. Must be in high 80’s. Bill is at the Press for the morning. He is trying to repair gears on a paper cutter. The Press is 1½ miles from here so he frequently walks and/or Jim Neil picks him up in transit. Bill has only been working there a couple days a week in mornings because of our concentration on Swahili now. (Jim’s orders) Sunday night Bill preached at our missionary fellowship (all US missionaries—independent, Free Methodist, Brethren and us Bapt. 30-40 folks. The children have a class, too.) Jim said not to preach now until after language study. Bill has been asked to be song leader for those Sunday evening services. We meet at a home where there is a lovely grand piano.

About our African church: It is called Panzi⁸ 1 because it’s in the Panzi section of town. A simple cement or plaster construction with wooden benches, a raised platform with pulpit and benches where the elders sit during the entire service. There’s a song leader, a service leader and a pastor and an assistant and a choir. The church seats about 400. Would you believe there is a split pending here? Just can’t seem to get away from church problems! There is a daughter church in the country (bush) Panzi II church which has 200 or so people meeting under a shelter. So there is a building program. A pastor is accused of stealing some of the money and doing a few other foolish things, so he is supposed to be resigning. The assistant pastor preached Sunday and the church was quite full. A Sunday School meets at 7:30, taught by elders presently and not very good. There could easily be 100 children off the streets who’d come in.

If my Swahili comes along I may help organize it and teach in it. Jim would like Bill to head up the construction of the Panzi II church and see that built sometime in 1980. Also hopes he and Bill and Africans can put a new roof on the Press and rebuild a wall at the Panzi I church to keep back the hill near it, so building and lot are not covered by a mudslide during rainy season.

Our first Sunday at Panzi I was so moving. Oh! the sound of those African voices as they sing and harmonize accompanied by drum and rattles. The first hymn we sang with them—Jesus Keep Me Near the Cross in Swahili (they have some hymnals). It was so beautiful! Meant a lot to us because of the Cross theme. Beneath the Cross of Jesus is a hymn that has carried us here. And Am I a Soldier of the Cross? moved us to hear the Lord’s call at our mission conference. So it was a significant moment to first sing that one hymn in Swahili. Couldn’t keep back the tears. We were all surrounded by the children who wanted to shake hands and gawk at Janna and Billy. Of course they posed when I whipped out a camera. They are dirty and shabby but I love their smiles and hope to teach them. They love puppets and I have a few of your crocheted ones, Mom, plus an African one. It is at this Panzi I church where Bill will preach for his Swahili final.

It is clouding over now for a rain. Janna is in bed with an upset stomach, no fever, so I’m having her rest.

Wednesday—These letters will go to Nairobi tomorrow with Marilyn. By now you have our first letter I hope. We got our first mail on Sunday. It was a letter from Lloyds in Osterville, mailed September 25th. Neils get the mail and sort it on Sunday. They brought it right over since it was our first. Janna was sick from last Thursday to Saturday with upset stomach. We all have had a day or so of not feeling our best. We suspected an ear infection in David and were put in touch with a pediatric missionary nurse from US who runs dispensaries all over the Kivu here. She lives a few streets away and brought us a 10 day supply of ampicillin. It was free; given to her in US. So feel at ease some, as we do, to know help is available. We will be flying 200 miles north to Rwanguba for our annual field conference November 11-14, if gas is available. At that time we will try to get more ampicillin from our hospital there. We are looking forward to the conference. The Director of CBFMS⁹ will be here for it and also the African Field Secretary with whom we’ve corresponded for so long. He will be staying in our home when the two men come to Bukavu after the main conference.

Now, to tell you about our food:

First we were impressed by all that is available, but