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Lessons 8
Mary Slessor
"I want the job," I said to the Sunday School
superintendent. He peered down at me over his
wire-rimmed glasses. "You're quite small, Mary, and
I'm not sure--" "I'm fourteen!" I said. "I can read
and write, and I know my Bible stories, too. I can teach them."
The superintendent cleared his throat. "I know you mean well, Mary, but
the street children run wild here. The gangs of boys are rough and they
don't want us teaching here on Queen Street. You could get hurt!" "I can do it," I answered.
"Besides, I think God wants me to teach. I'm not afraid."
I tried desperately to sound as brave as my brother Robert. The superintendent stroked his
moustache, staring at my red hair. "Well, I guess you can give it a try. Can you start this
Friday night?" "Yes!" I exclaimed. "Thank you!"
Dreams of Calabar, Africa
I ran to Mother, who was standing outside the front door of the church. "Mother!" I shouted.
"I can have the job!" "You'll be a wonderful teacher, Mary," Mother said. "Just be careful.
The gangs are mean to outsiders.""I know," I answered. "It's a little dangerous. But it's not
as bad as Calabar!" Mother laughed. "No, not as bad as Calabar!"
As we walked home, I felt as though my heart would burst! Mother used to tell Robert and
me about a place called Calabar in Africa. Calabar was the worst spot on earth--with
headhunters, witchcraft, and deadly sicknesses. I was too young to go to the worst spot on
earth, but at least I could be a missionary on Queen Street, the worst spot in Dundee,
Scotland.
"Robert would be proud of you, Mary," Mother said, smiling. A tear came to my eye. "Robert
was always brave." My older brother, Robert, was with Jesus now. When we were small,
Robert's eyes would grow as wide as tea saucers whenever Mother read missionary stories.
Sometimes he'd say, "When I grow up, Mary, I am going to be a missionary. And I'm going to
take you with me."
After Robert became sick and died, I felt doubly sad. Not only had I lost my big brother, I
had also lost the dream of serving in missions with him. I think that
Robert would have become a great missionary, maybe even as great as
David Livingstone.
Mud Balls on Queen Street
Friday came quickly. I walked down to Queen Street with my Bible in
hand, eager to share God's word with the street kids.
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