Mavuradonha
30th December, 1954
Dear Mom,
The men went over to our new station on Tuesday (this is Thursday) which is 45 miles from here and near Mt. Darwin. Russ Jackson also came there as they had some business in regard to laying out the sites for foundations of buildings. The Jacksons have a telephone, as their house used to belong to the government who had it installed and it was never taken out. So it was how I got the message about Pa’s homegoing. Orla called Russ and Russ told the men here and when they got home last night Warren broke the news to me. They only knew that dad had passed on. They didn’t know the date or when the cablegram came or nothing. Anyway, if I get the post this week-end, I’ll probably know. I have it figured that it was after the 23rd.
Well, amid my tears there is joy, too, in knowing that Pa is with the Lord and he has entered into joy unknown to us. How hard it must be for missionaries to have their loved ones leave this world who are unsaved. I know that the Lord is sustaining you and has done so through these recent days. I’m sure that in your sorrow you also have peace. We sorrow not as those who have no hope.
I imagine everyone was home but Jim and me. It helps me know, too, that you aren’t alone but that you have lots of “kids” besides myself to be with you. As to your future, that too you can trust the Lord to work out for you, even if you can’t figure it out now. He can arrange it for you.
The natives around heard about as soon as the men got home that my father had died, so in no time the teacher came up and came in the house and told me he was sorry to hear the news and then he prayed. A bit later the teachers’ wives and the evangelist came. They sat on my floor quietly and later the evangelist prayed. Mary and Marie and Muriel stayed until about ten o’clock, so I appreciated that. At such times, the custom of the natives is to come and sit with you, not saying anything.
I am anxious to hear concerning the details. I haven’t heard anything but what Grace wrote on the 8th. I want to know what his condition was like the last weeks. I’m sure someone has written.
The Everswicks received a cablegram also saying that her brother’s ten-year-old boy died suddenly of a short illness of the brain called syphilitis1cephalitis (I don’t know if that is right or not). It was a shock to them as he and Lynn are the same age and had been so close while they were home.
I’ll write when post goes out again and perhaps by that time I’ll know some details. I’m wondering who conducted the service, all of those things. I must be patient until the letters come. It would be nice for you to get away for a bit. Don’t you think? I’ll write a bit to Jim today. I must close now and may the Lord bless you in a very special way during these days of aloneness. I’m so glad Pa wasn’t bedridden for a long time.
Love to all of you,
Eunice
2 thoughts on “December 30, 1954”
As Auntie Eunice mentioned, I was present that night. I remember late in the day hearing that the post had come and so we went up to Auntie Eunice’s house where it was being sorted out of the post bag. As she looked through her letters, she tore open the letter from home and read that her father had died almost a month earlier. I remember thinking that it was so hard to know that he had been dead for a whole month and she didn’t even know it.
My mother, Mary, promised her we would come to be with her after getting our lamp lit because it was getting dark. We went home and lit our Colman lamp and walked back up the hill in the dark to her place. As we sat with her in her living room the Africans began to arrive. They would stand outside the door and say “Go, go, go,” the traditional request to enter the room. Then they would say, “We heard your father died.” And they would sit down with us. Soon the chairs were full and people were sitting all over the floor—mostly in silence. Occasionally someone would pray or break into song. The teachers at the school came along with the evangelist. The teacher who prayed was probably Teacher Tiago, a prince of a man who loved Jesus dearly.
This practice when dealing with death by the Shona people is called, “Ku bata maoka” which literally means “to hold hands” with those who mourn. It is a beautiful tradition which, in the hands of African Christians becomes deeply meaningful to those who have lost someone they love. As Auntie Eunice writes, my mother and I were there with her until 10pm that night. I was 13 years old. It was a night I never forgot.
Muriel, thank you once again for sharing your insights and experience with us, and for filling in more of the picture of that night. Such a beautiful practice, one that seems rooted in compassion and wisdom.