A Christian man was visiting, Africa and he went with a missionary friend to some native villages. As they visited each mud hut the first questions always were: “From where has Bwana come?” and “Why has he come so far?”
“Tell them,” said the missionary, “and I will translate what you say.” So he gladly told them he had come from England to bring them a message from God who loved them. He told them much more, but his earnest words meant little to them, and the women turned to their never-ending work of pounding meal, and the children laughed and the men made a sort of hopeless grunt and settled down to watch the women work.
They went from hut to hut, but every time were met with the same. response. Together the two friends started off along the native path through the forest, and soon came to another clearing and collection of mud. huts. While the missionary talked with some standing around, his friend turned to look into a hut near him. To his great surprise it was clean, and a boy of about fourteen years, dressed in English clothes, was sitting on a log reading a Bible.
Unthinkingly the man spoke to him in English, and to his surprise the boy came to the door saying, “Good afternoon, sir.”
“So you can speak English! Where did you learn it?”
“At the Mission School, sir.”
“And do you know my Lord Jesus as your Saviour?”
“Oh yes, He came to live in my heart in April last year, and I have been baptized with my new name, John I want to love and serve my Lord like John did—he was a friend of Jesus.”
“Tell me, how did you receive the Bible which you have?”
“At school I used to listen to it read, and I longed to have one myself. I worked hard to save some pennies, and when I had saved fifty, news came that God’s Words had arrived from England. I hurried to the school and the missionary let me have this for my fifty pennies, and I love to read it whenever I can.”
“Yes, I saw you reading God’s Word when I looked into your hut—why were you reading this afternoon?”
“Sir, I have finished all the work I do for my mother who working down the valley. I got the wood and the water, and the mealies are cooking. I have no sister, so I help my mother—isn’t that what a Christian boy should do?”
“Yes, indeed. Tell me, were these people my friend is talking to saying good words?”
“No, no, they were had words, very had words, sir, so I opened my Bible to read. Where clean water flows all is clean—so I read God’s words, then my eyes and my heart keep clean.”
“God bless you, my dear boy. Here in your heathen village I have learned many lessons today. Tell me, do your people listen to you when you speak to them about the Bible?”
“No, Bwana, they say, ‘We will hear God’s words, not yours, you are not a man.’ I then read to them many pages and they stand under our village tree and listen, the men, the women and the children. Sometimes they say, ‘Hark, the Big Chief God is talking in our language, let all listen.’ It is very hard to live here, sir. I sometimes wish I could go back to the Mission Station, but I think Jesus wants me to stay with my mother like John did. No one loves my Saviour here, not even my mother, but they know Jesus lives in my heart.”
It made Bwana very happy to meet this dear young lad who is trying to live to please his Saviour in far-away Africa. And how happy it would make us if every boy and girl who knows the Lord Jesus as his or her own personal Saviour would follow this lad’s example. He was reading his Bible to keep himself-from the evil ways of the men of the village, as well as reading it to the others, and speaking of the Lord Jesus to them whenever he could.
ML 07/16/1950