Beauty Rising (30 page)

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Authors: Mark W. Sasse

BOOK: Beauty Rising
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“So happy to see you, Mr. Martin.”

“What is going on here? I don’t understand.”

“Everyone is so happy to see you. Pastor Nong sent word to neighboring villages telling them about the miracle of Martin. The new son of Pastor Nong who brought word about his precious daughter. Everyone wanted to come and see you for themselves.”

I stood overwhelmed and embarrassed. If my face could have gotten redder, it would have. A sweet old woman came up and placed a bouquet of Phuong flowers into my hand.

“This is for you she said,” Long translated. “This is My Phuong’s grandmother. She says now you her grandson.”

Another group of people approached me.

“This is My Phuong’s uncle and aunt. They wanted to thank you.”

And another group approached.

I had done nothing to deserve their praise and adoration. I had only followed my heart. Actually, I followed my selfish desires, and I followed my love for My Phuong. Perhaps I had done this all for me. I didn’t deserve this treatment, but I wanted it with all my heart.

“When you were missing this morning, everyone thinks you left and aren’t coming back. Everyone very afraid and sad. But now it is like a homecoming,” Long said with a huge smile on his face.

Pastor Nong needled his way through the crowd towards me and tried to get everyone to settle down so he could say something.

“Martin,” Long translated for me. “You are always welcome here in our village. This is your home, and we are your family. Even if you have to leave us, I know you will come back. Our village is poor, and our school is not so good. Our children cannot compete for better jobs and better lives like those who live in the cities. We need teachers here. Our children need to learn English. Martin, would you stay with us, live with us, and teach our children English?”

Me a teacher? I barely graduated from high school.

“But tell them that I’m not a teacher. I don’t know how to teach.”

I laughed at their suggestion as Long translated back to them. I didn’t know the first thing about teaching English.

“They said it is no problem. You are native speaker. If native speaker speak, children learn.”

“But how can I stay? I only have a tourist visa, and I . . .”

The absurdity of their offer kept running through my head.

“Pastor Nong says that God provided a way. Since he released from prison, and since his wife die in prison, he has good contact, good contact that help. No worry. You want to stay, you stay.”

I stood there looking at their eager faces not knowing if I truly believed what the next chapter of my life would be.

“But Pastor Nong says if you have to go, it’s okay. But you are always welcome here.”

And then I realized what I wanted to do.

“But I have no place to go. I have no one to be with, except you.”

Long translated it back to the jubilant faces.

“So you will stay?”

“I would be honored to stay.”

He translated my decision, and then I heard from varying voices both young and old a single phrase repeated over and over again.

“What are they saying?” I asked.

“May God bless you! May God bless you! May God bless you!”

Over and over the phrase reverberated across the village.

A small girl jumped up into my arms and put her head on my shoulder. My Phuong’s grandmother took me by the hand and started walking me to Pastor Nong’s longhouse. The crowd pressed in on me from every side, but I paid no attention to my wallet, which was still sitting in the back right pocket of my jeans. I had found my way home.

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