Don’t Take My Life!

Story & Photo Credit: Karen Weaver

Anita cried out in despair in her Kamano Kafe language, “Don’t take my life! Don’t take my life!”

She had just fed her children breakfast and sent them off to school. The sun had peeked over the mountains in the Eastern Highlands and it was time for her to go to her garden. Instead she was desperately searching through her house; sadly, the thing she wanted was nowhere to be found.

Several hours later, Anita’s young children returned home from school. She met them in the doorway and asked, “Do any of you know what happened to my Audibible?” She was referring to the small solar-powered device that played the Scriptures in her heart language. Her son confessed, “I took it school with me this morning.”

His mother swiftly scolded him, “That’s my life! You go to school. You are learning to read and write. I can’t! This is the only way I have to hear God’s book. This Audibible is my life!”

Together Anita and her children listened to the life-giving words around their cooking fire that evening. The next morning she again took it to the garden to charge in the sunshine and to play the Kamano Kafe Scriptures while she planted and weeded and harvested. The food she grew was life for their bodies, and the words she listened to were life for their souls.

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