I was so hungry. I was new to the Navajo Indian reservation. I had no training what to do or how to survive. I just knew I was hungry- always hungry. God, I said as I looked up where I hoped He was looking down on me. I want something to eat I repeated. I waited; I didn’t know what to do. Then I felt a thought come to me. “Go” the thought was stronger. Go to a family on the mesa. But I don’t want to I answered back. That will take me an hour and the gas tank is almost empty. “GO” I heard again. Now I wasn’t only hungry I was angry. I grabbed the keys and spun the tires in the dust. Over the trails I bounced. At last I found their hogon home. The sheep were still in the corral and horses tied nearby. I could smell the traditional fry bread before I entered the home. About ten or twelve people were getting ready to sit on the dirt floor to eat. I stood there waiting for their body language that would invite me to join them. It didn’t happen. I turned to leave, tears in my eyes. I was so disappointed and wanted to tell God what I thought. I turned the key ready to leave when an Indian boy shouted “wait” In about thirty seconds he handed me a large round fry bread with salt sprinkled on top. I thanked him in the Navajo language. I bounced along the trail for home and thanked God for again blessing me. I also said I was sorry for being ugly when He was trying to teach me to trust Him. And yes, He even made it possible for me to fill the gas tank.
One winter morning I was invited to eat with a family. They wanted to treat me to a favorite breakfast. It was called blue marbles. It was blue corn meal mixed with juniper ashes. Small corn balls floated in a gravy of blue mush. I learned this is a healthy meal and good for the body, and is full of calcium. Another favorite meal is sheep blood mixed with oatmeal and string beans then slowly simmered tied up in the sheep stomach. In a couple hours its ready to enjoy.
We always ate with our fingers. A rag was passed around to wipe fingers and chins. Toddlers were fed the chewed food from the parents and grandparents. I remember when a spoon first appeared among the people. What fun for us all to use it and share.
This spring I start my fifty-sixth year on the Navajo Reservation. God has been so good to me in many different ways, the list is long and memorable.
My daughter has been with me six wonderful years. The people love her. She isn’t like me. She’s sweet and quiet. She does all the driving, lifting, hauling and loading. She hands out Gospel tracts and other easy reading material. She’s kind, she’s soft, she’s tough, she’s a complete package. She’s also a good listener when the Navajo people need a listening ear.
We will soon start the summer lunch program. Our native adults help with the distribution and getting people together. Years ago, they fed me. Please help us with “Food for Families” this summer. Go with us in spirit and prayer- we really really need your help.
Indian Mobile Mission 