First, an early call at 6 a.m. on a Tuesday with Kenneth
saying he’d stop by around 10 if that was okay. Not every African is courteous
enough to call ahead and even to arrive on the stroke of the hour. It’s not
rudeness on the part of others so much as slippery priorities. Like they want
to pin you down to wait for them just in case they can make it. Their
intentions are good but they are easily distracted.
Kenneth shows up on the dot, and he and Jim exchange their
usual ritual of Black Pope and White Pope dialogue. They’ve known each other so
long that Jim can’t even remember the origin but thinks Kenneth may have
started it. They both enjoy the implied respect for each other and normally
spend an hour or two reminiscing about characters and events in their shared
history. Jim remembers Kenneth’s first wife very well and says she was an
excellent pastor’s wife. She had been killed in a bus accident.
Within a short time Kenneth is talking about a lady named Virginia. He met her
while attending a family funeral in his home area of Zeimba in northeast Zimbabwe. They
first met casually at a store while he shopped for the family. After a very
satisfactory conversation with an exchange of personal information, Kenneth was
intrigued enough to make inquiries in the area. Hearing nothing but good
reports, he is pursuing the relationship by inviting her to come to Gweru,
located in central Zimbabwe,
for a visit to meet his congregation and get a glimpse of what his life is all
about. He promises to bring her to us so we can meet her.
Steps to marriage are orchestrated by tribal tradition, and
if Kenneth is to marry Virginia
he will soon be making arrangements with her family for lobola {bride price]. They will also do something new that’s
becoming necessary in modern Africa: a visit
to New Start, a clinic where you are checked for HIV/AIDS. Romance quickly
turns practical for our Black Africans.
Second, later in the week but also in the morning, we hear a
hoot at the gate and here’s Harry come to visit. These impromptu unannounced
visits can be great fun, and it’s good to have them happening again. It’s a
sign that there’s time enough not to need every minute or half hour scheduled.
Of course, you take a chance that people might not be at home or that they
might have other visitors. We would see Harry in town from time to time but he
hadn’t been by the house for awhile. His first wife died fairly young of a
heart attack, and Harry had wanted Jim to take part in the funeral but we were
in South Africa
at the time.
Soon Harry is telling us all about Patty, and I’m trying to
piece together the story as he talks. He is speaking English but Afriakaans is
his first language, and I have trouble with the rhythm and slur of his words. I
love to hear what he has to say because he is so wonderfully eccentric with a simple
and generous code of faith. He is the epitome of the White African, dressed
casually in a printed short-sleeve shirt, shorts and long socks. He probably
has a helmet or hat somewhere, but I don’t recall him ever wearing one. He is a
farmer and a miner of precious stones and covers the country in his work but
misses no opportunity to pray for the sick and to speak of a God who blesses
those who bless others.
Another reason why I struggle to keep up is that Harry and
Jim are talking about people I haven’t come to know yet. Although I do remember
when Ralph, Patty’s first husband, died not much more than a year ago. Ralph’s
death left Penny alone on their farm, and Harry’s sympathy for the new widow
soon grew into love as he helped her sort out the many post-death
responsibilities. These included arranging a proper graveside memorial
headstone, which Harry undertook with a magnanimous thoughtfulness.
Harry puts me in mind of the legendary knight on a white
horse rushing to the rescue not of a young maiden but of a fifty-something
widow. He’s helped her in hundreds of ways with no strings attached but now
he’s found himself deeply in love. Does she love him, too? If not, he says it’s
time for him to bow out. She says she loves him, but she has these three grown
daughters who are skeptical of Harry’s motives. On Saturday they will all be
together for the first time—Harry, Patty and the daughters. Will we pray for
this momentous meeting? Yes, we will.
Just the other day in town, I was jaywalking [an irritating
and annoying challenge for drivers but a practice not yet to a level of the
First World Pedestrian Crossings] when a horn hooted. I looked up just in time
to see Harry drive by with such a contented look on his face. He wasn’t alone;
I’m sure the lady beside him is his beloved Patty.
So, different routes but the same end; two weddings coming
up before year’s end.
*Names are false but stories are real.
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