One Face in a Million Book 1: Mu Shangaaniana. William Bond

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One Face in a Million Book 1: Mu Shangaaniana - William Bond


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to school or made similar arrangements for them when they arrived in LM and were heading for home.

      If a car from the mission station was not available, one had to travel by train between LM and Xinivani. Then, one took a bus to a location where one could take a ferry across the Limpopo River to Xai Xai. There, one had to take another train to Manjacaze, and from there, one traveled to Tavani by car. A trip to LM, of course, was just the reverse. Even if one made all the connections, the trip could take all day. The trip by car also took a long time, but it was the preferred way to travel—if a car was available.

      It seemed that Christine could not think about school without thinking of the rumors that Sara had started, and she wondered how she could cope with the gossip and the name-calling that she so disliked. Of course, any thoughts of school also brought Jim to mind. It was so easy to think about him, and to entertain certain fantasies. Could he ever care about her as much as she cared about him?

      Jim was so incredibly handsome! She loved his eyes, his face, and his masculine physique. What would it be like to be held in his arms and kissed? She wondered. She knew that she would love to run her fingers through his hair and let her hands feel the strength of his arms and shoulders. For a few moments, she closed her eyes and indulged in a pleasant daydream. If he had been at her side with his arm around her, she just might have turned to him and impulsively given him a kiss. Would she have dared to do that? And how might he have reacted? Would he have liked her attention? Would he have returned her kiss with a passionate one? Might he take her hand and lead her into the house where other things could happen? The thoughts of some intimacy with him filled her with desire. She felt flushed, but her fanning seemed to do little good. Sadly, Jim was not with her. In reality, she was home for the holidays, and she was quite alone.

      She had expected to be looking forward to Christmas, but her anticipation had not yet arrived. She imagined that Christmas must be more exciting in homes where there were two parents and more children or other relatives. It seemed reasonable to think that a larger family would make for a merrier Christmas. She had no father or siblings, and sometimes, her loneliness and self-pity had caused her to feel depressed, but of course, there was no one to blame. Mother would focus on their blessings and would usually find a way to dissipate the things that caused Christine to feel blue. Despite her mother’s own loneliness, her unwavering faith and her positive attitude would come into play, and they were sure to have a good Christmas.

      Although Mother had colleagues and a good relationship with the local people, and Christine had had some childhood friends and an association with many students at school, the two of them really only had each other. After Christine had gone off to school in Swaziland, weekly letters and occasional holidays together had been the things which had kept them in a close relationship. Although Christine was seldom lonely at school, she often thought about home. She could well imagine that her mother was incredibly lonely, at times. It was certainly not easy to be a widow with lots of responsibilities, but Mother was not one to complain, and it appeared that she was carrying on quite well.

      Over the years, writing and receiving letters had been a great help to both of them. They usually sent each other one letter a week, but Christine could recall many times when she had received two letters in one week from her mother. Despite the distance between them and their prolonged periods of separation, Mother had proven herself to be a faithful correspondent, a loving, supportive parent, and a real friend. She had given a lot of love, understanding, and unconditional acceptance. Underlying everything was constant evidence of her values and beliefs which had grown out of her strong Christian faith. She had practiced what she believed, and she had continually tried to help Christine grow in her faith. Mother knew the Bible very well, and she frequently imparted bits of scripture when she thought it would be appropriate and helpful. She had endeavored to teach her much about the Lord and how important it is to try to seek his will and follow it. She was aware of some of the things that troubled her daughter, and she had acknowledged that we live in a world where many things are not within our control. She knew, for example, how much Christine would like to have had a father and siblings, and she was aware of the problems that Christine and Sara had had at school. She always tried to give helpful advice, but she was quick to acknowledge that, sometimes, one just has to live with the circumstances that have been given.

      As Christine slowly rocked in the swing, she looked forward to evening. It would be getting cooler by then, and she was beginning to get hungry. She was also anxious for Mother to get home because they would visit and reminisce, and that was usually a lot of fun. She had begun thinking about Jim again and was wondering if she should tell her mother about him, when suddenly, she became aware of agitated chickens that were cackling behind the house. At first, she thought that Joao, Mother’s Shangaan cook and handyman, had gone into the poultry enclosure to get a chicken for dinner, but then, she recalled that he had already killed one earlier in the day. When the commotion did not abate, she rose from the swing and walked around the house to see why the chickens had become so disturbed.

      When she got to the back of the house, she saw Joao near the chicken pen with an ax in his hand. Obviously, the commotion had also drawn his attention, and he had come out of the kitchen to see what was the matter.

      “What’s wrong?” Christine asked, as she approached Joao. “Not sure,” he replied. “Maybe snake is looking for eggs.”

      Suddenly, Joao spotted a lengthy serpent as it slithered away from the pen toward Christine.

      “Run!” he exclaimed, realizing that the situation was suddenly becoming dangerous. Christine had always hated snakes, and she wasted no time getting to the kitchen door.

      The snake, sensing danger, turned and began to quickly slither away in another direction. Joao went after it with his ax held high, and moments later, he let out a shout as he wielded the ax with force to the ground. His aim had been skillful, and the slithering menace had been divided in two.

      “That’s as far as he goes!” Joao announced triumphantly.

      Christine was amazed that he had bravely gone after the snake, and she was surprised that he had been able to kill the serpent with one swift swing of the ax. Joao returned the ax to the chopping block and used another tool to dispose of the snake. When he returned to the kitchen, Christine praised his good deed.

      “Ha nphumu,” he replied in Shangaan, indicating that it had been nothing.

      They entered the kitchen where dinner preparations were underway. The aroma of a baking chicken gave an indication that dinner ought to be good. Joao had been cutting up some vegetables, and it appeared that he was also planning to cook some rice, as well. More than likely, they would have bananas, too. They were plentiful, inexpensive, and Mother said that they were nutritious, but that hadn’t caused Christine to like them. More than likely, their evening meal would include fried bananas! They were the worst, but she would probably eat some and say nothing. She knew that one should not upset the cook—whether it was Mother, Joao, or someone else. At school, the students often complained about the food they were served, but Christine seldom joined in the complaining. She liked everything that her mother made, but at school, she usually ate what was served although she omitted some things and kept certain portions quite small.

      Although they grew certain vegetables in their garden and raised chickens for both their eggs and their meat, most of their food was locally produced and could be purchased at the market in nearby Manjacaze which was only about five miles from Tavani. In Manjacaze, one could also get various tin goods and certain imported items. Christine liked canned fruits and juices, and she had always loved certain kinds of candy which Mother allowed her to have as an occasional treat. Christine didn’t have candy very often, but Mother knew of her sweet tooth, and she usually had some pies or cookies on hand during the times when she was at home. Baked goods were Mother’s specialty, and Joao didn’t do things of that sort. He did much of the cooking, however, and he did all the outside chores so that Mother would have more time to devote to her numerous responsibilities.

      Christine told Joao that the chicken smelled delicious and that she was getting hungry.

      To assuage her hunger, she took a couple of cookies from a tin box and then poured some pineapple juice from a container into a glass. She offered some cookies


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