He had also gathered an assortment
of water bottles. He was always amazed when one of the guests left behind a
half full bottle of water. How could someone leave water behind? He had come to
realize that in this magical place water wasn’t precious like it was back home,
but he didn’t want to see anything wasted. He brought all of the bottles he
found into his home for safe keeping and in case the water supply from Rueben
ran out.
Now he had one more item to add to
his growing collection of possessions. He squatted on the floor beneath the
torch and admired his gift from John. The bright colors, the life-like drawings
of people and animals, the mysterious marks. The marks that he now knew were words,
words which he had to learn how to read.
He gently turned the pages. They
were cool and smooth under his rough fingers. In the dim light of the room he
could barely make out the pictures, but he already knew what they all looked
like. What was this story, he wondered, and would he ever be able to read the
words that told the story? Would he someday be able to read that story to
Jan-hey?
Outside of a Maasai home, when I
was in Kenya for the first time in 2006.
|
You’ve just read
another one of the discarded scenes from “Where the Sky Meets the Sand”. Every
time I read through all those deleted files, I’m amazed that I wrote that much
and then was willing to let it go. I had written 31 chapters before I decided
that nearly half of it had to be cut from the novel. Interesting that several
of the scenes revolve around a book, the book the missionary John gave to the
lost boy, the book which told the life of Jesus in the boy’s language.
If you haven’t read “Where the Sky Meets the Sand” yet, it’s available on line at Amazon.com and Barnes and Noble.
If you live in north-central Wisconsin, you can purchase the book at one of the
sales I’ll be at in the coming week.
Also, I value your feedback, so
don’t forget to post a review of the book as well as letting me know what you
thought. Much thanks in advance.
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