I Just Couldn't Believe It

Today a white man and his wife came to my house. I looked and looked to see how tall he was. I couldn't look that much! And then he stretched his legs out on the floor, and there was no room left to put the food! Well, I just couldn't believe it!

And did you see that WHITE hair? Does he put something on it to make it that funny color? Why would he do that? I just couldn't believe it.

My Grandpa is short and has very BLACK hair. He rides a bus to go to work. That white man says he can ride a horse... and then, he said he had never eaten green rice before. Well, I just couldn't believe it.

I could believe a l-i-t-t-l-e of what that white man said, but when he told me he had 26 grandchildren, well, I JUST COULDN'T BELIEVE IT!

A Light in the Darkness

Lot 439 Sungai Plan Bintulu

This is the home of the grandfather and the two little girls that we told you we have been trying to find. We went to see them Saturday. We were met by the mother...and brought inside....

The grandmother was also there.

And a little boy that we didn't know about. Everything. Everything. was dark and damp. There was one small window through which a bit of light came. There is no use describing the interior. It is impossible.

There out of the grayness came Rosalin and Lin...the little girls we have been so concerned about. One cannot conceive of their life here. Where do they get their smiles? THEY were the "light that shone in the darkness"

We brought them these dresses for them to wear on Sunday. I had them kneel in the little shaft of sunlight that came into the room. This is the most beautiful sight I have seen in Bintulu. They were thrilled. Unbelieving. I was overjoyed. Here in the darkness were these two little lights. In the midst of absolute gray, and black, they were the only thing of color or cheer.

We had brought a couple of coloring books and some crayons and gave them to the little boy. He couldn't believe it.

They changed back into their clothes to save the new ones for Sunday... could you not just hug them and take them home to love?

They waved goodbye from the door and the gate was pad locked closed. We found out after that their father is a drunkard. What can I do, I can't bear to think of their life here. It is the most desperate situation we have seen.

Sunday came and there they were, so happy in their clean outfits. I was bursting with joy for them. I watched over them like a jealous mother hen, seeing if the other children would include them. They always sit close together and older one is so protective of her little sister. The man is their grandfather. How can I leave them not knowing who will be aware of them? While we are in Miri, we return to Bintulu every 6-8 weeks and we will stop to check on them. My two bright lights in the darkness.

This is the closest we have come to truly knowing...."Inasmuch as you have done it unto the least of these ....."

Their Souls are Precious

Yesterday, we had two experiences that are difficult to communicate the impact of. The first is with these two little girls. I met them first at my cake baking class. They stuck very close together. They attached themselves to me, and were so happy and tried to help me pronounce iban words.

I next saw them weeks later at church with an old toothless man. They sat by me and were poorly dressed and not very clean; but again, happy, smiling, sweet.

I didn't see them again for a long time until one evening, we saw the oldest one with the old man selling greens along the street from house to house. The little girl was extremely shabbily dressed and dirty... But, when they saw us, broke into broad smiles.

We determined to find them. Last night, we found their house.

How do you cope with the breaking of your heart over their situation? They are different than so many, in that they truly don't have anything. A few greens may fetch a few cents each day.

We will buy them each some clothes for church and have the R.S. Pres give them to them. I will add a little heart pillow for each.

These last pictures are of "Jerry." He first walked into the Church a week ago. He stood by the piano and listened. I tried to find out about him; but he seemed very uncertain
and confused. Dad saw him a few days later. Again he had found his way into the Church. Dad tried to talk to him through another Iban girl, but found out little. He was intrigued with Dad's tie, so Dad took it off and put it around his neck. He tried to give Dad his cap in exchange, but Dad couldn't bear to take it. He walked out very happy.

He returned the following night, his new tie tied and hanging loosely and long over his tee shirt. Proudly he pointed to it and smiled broadly. Then he indicated that he did not have a white shirt. Dad got into the closet and pulled out the smallest size: a Large. No matter, he immediately put it on and Dad and the Elders tied the tie. (yes, the tie is a beauty, from Utah Woolen Mills...)

The look on his face when he first saw Dad will
never be forgotten: A Friend! I know him! He knows me!

Dad fussed over him; and made him feel important. He walked out of the Church and down the street. Where was he going? Where did he live? Who did he know? Did anyone care about him? Who will check on him?

We have prayed that we might be instruments in the Lord's hands. Among all the things that we have tried to do; perhaps these two little, little things have been among the most important: Seeing someone, "unseen".

"Behold, their souls are precious; and many of them are our brethren...." Alma 31:35