Lack of Love

The following is a read aloud story for March 2004, especially thinking of Awana Clubs, homeschoolers, Sunday school classes, DVBS, mission conferences, or just for fun. Print them out. Collect them. E-mail them to others. Use them. God bless! This month I tell the sad story of an outcast Culina girl who deeply experienced a lack of love. Imagine a whole nation of people who have absolutely no word in their language for LOVE. I was the missionary who rescued the little girl from death by drowning. If you are missing any of the previous 14 stories, and would like to have them, just send us an e-mail and we will send them to you. I will send two stories a day to not overload your computer!

The old story teller, Douemi (Dough-way-MEE)
(missionary/ culturn observer among the Culina Madirra for many years
Serving with New Tribes Mission, Sanford, FL

Mehi (meh-EE) and Rohi (Row-EE) sat together on a giant ironwood stump in the middle of the lake. The tree had been cut many, many years before and its hard wood had provided boards and house supports. Now, during the flood season, the stump was almost covered, but, not quite…and the twins, about ten-years-old, were perched high and dry throwing their fish lines into the lake. Mehi was very troubled and finally just blurted out to his look-alike brother: “Rohi, did you hear the old ones talking last night around the fire?”
“No, I heard nothing,” Rohi laughed, “except old Grandmother snoring!”
“I wish I had been able to sleep!” Mehi said with a sad sigh, “They were talking about the old days”. His foot was banging the stump nervously as it obviously was hard for him to go on with the conversation. “Rohi, did you know that just a few Rainy Seasons past…ai, this is bad…this is REAL bad…did you know that twins were thrown in the river at birth? Thrown to the piranas and alligators! You and I, Brother, would have been fish food! Just fish food!! How could the People be so cruel? How could our mother ever have done that to us? Could she have done that to us, Rohi? WOULD she have ever done that to us?” His speech had ended and both boys sat on the stump lost in deep thought.
What the boys could not possibly comprehend was that their language had no word for “love” in it. There was a lack of love. It has always been impossible for a Madirra (Maw-dee-HUH) to say. “I love you” to anyone. Missing. Gone. Not there. They are basically a very self-centered, uncaring society, and often extremely cruel to one another. No compassion. No love. But, then, the white long-legs came to live with them. They taught Father God’s Word and they talked about something called “amor”, that meant you treated people nice and with respect and didn’t hurt them. The Madirra were learning “love” by example and teaching.
Screams! Calls of distress! The twins were startled back to reality by someone calling for help. Aiiii! Aiiii! They looked out in the lake and saw Maraco (Maw-raw-COE) in his canoe beating something, or someone, over the head with his paddle. Immediately they knew who it was! Uarro! (Wah-HOE).
Yes, Uarro was out in the lake and her uncle, Maraco, was trying to drown her. Uarro had been abandoned by her mother when she was a baby and her grandmother did not want her. Her uncles and her aunt had agreed to raise her as a servant. She carried water and got firewood and took care of the children. They had always treated her like a slave. Abused and misused and sometimes tortured for laughs she was often hurt just for the fun of it. Poor Uarro!
WHACK! The paddle hit Uarro on the head as she came up for air. She was snorting and crying and pleading with her uncle to not hit her. He laughed and shouted ugly things at her as he pushed her down under the water with the paddle. He waited for her to come up for air and then would try to push her under before she could catch a good breath of air.
Suddenly the missionary, the white long-legs, raced down to the edge of the lake and shouted, “MARACO! PONI!! (Poe-NEE) Stop! Let her breathe! Leave her alone!” Maraco turned and paddled back to the other side still muttering curses at his wretched niece. Uarro gasped for air and was crying and managed somehow to swim to the missionary who helped her up out of the water. Then she just sat and sobbed. Poor little Uarro. “Come, Uarro, to our house. You’ll be safe there.” She followed the long white-legs to his house and was given food and comfort. Eventually she had to go back to her village and her wicked family, but for some time she just enjoyed being surrounded by this strange new thing…what was it? A happy, new sensation called LOVE.
Mehi again turned the philosopher, “Rohi, the white long-legs have done it again! Can it be that Father God wants us to be nice one to another and treat each other good? My eyes are hatching! (I’m beginning to understand) and I think it is BICA (Bee-CAW)! Good! His twin agreed and the boys continued their fishing from the stump.
A lack of love! Isn’t it sad to have no word for love in your language? To not be able to express love to someone because it doesn’t even exist in your vocabulary? When the Apostle Paul wrote the first chapter of the book of Romans he talked about people just like the Madirra, “They didn’t realize there was a God, and they glorified Him not as God, neither were thankful; but became cruel in their imaginations, and their foolish heart was darkened”. Love is light. Love is God. Do you try really hard to love others? Do you try to help those who are being teased and tormented by others? Do your long-legs take you to the side of someone in desparate need? Jesus’ legs did!!