Mandie Collection, The by Lois Gladys Leppard

Author:Lois Gladys Leppard
Language: eng
Format: azw3, mobi, epub
ISBN: 9781441260147
Publisher: Bethany House Publishers
Published: 1794-07-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHEROKEE KINSPEOPLE

As Mandie and Riley O’Neal approached Uncle Wirt and Aunt Saphronia in the doorway, neither of the old people said a word.They just glanced from Mandie to the missionary and back again.

“Uncle Wirt, Aunt Saphronia, this is Mr. O’Neal,” Mandie began. “He gave me a ride to your house.”

The missionary extended his hand, but Uncle Wirt did not take it. He just stared at the young man.

“He’s a missionary, Mr. Wirt,” Mandie explained. “He tells stories from the Big Book like the minister in your church does. Brother O’Neal is one of God’s preachers.”

Uncle Wirt and Aunt Saphronia exchanged glances, then looked the missionary over.

“Where from?” Uncle Wirt asked.

“Way up north in Boston,” Riley O’Neal answered. “A long, long way from here.”

“Why you come see Cherokees?” the old Indian asked.

Mandie quickly spoke for the missionary. “He wants to build a school for the Cherokee people, Uncle Wirt,” she explained.

“School? Cherokees go to school,” Uncle Wirt argued.

“We understand there are a lot of Cherokees who don’t attend school because it’s too far away,” Riley O’Neal said. “We want to help them learn to read and write and do arithmetic—and also learn God’s Word.”

“Cherokees not have books to read,” the old Indian replied. “Not need learn write. No pen. No paper. No money to count.”

“But we plan to make things better for your people,” the missionary argued. “We will give you books and pens and paper and also Bibles.” He smiled broadly. “And with an education and religion the Cherokees will become richer, better people.”

Mandie held her breath. Uncle Wirt would take that as an insult. She knew he considered the Cherokees the best people in the world.

Uncle Wirt stood silent for a moment. Then he stepped aside and motioned to the missionary. “Come. My house welcome preacher. We talk.”

“Thank you, sir,” the missionary replied, as he stepped inside the big log cabin. “I’m honored.” He took off his black hat and held it in his hand.

Snowball jumped down, and Mandie turned to embrace her great-aunt, a tiny woman with a million wrinkles. Snowball raced over to the pan of scraps on the hearth that the elderly couple put out for their own cats. The white kitten ate hungrily.

Aunt Saphronia silently smiled at Mandie and took her by the hand to the long table where the two men already sat across from each other. The pleasant aroma from good Cherokee cooking lingered in the air. Mandie and her great-aunt seated themselves at the other end of the table and listened.

“Your school good for all Cherokees?” Uncle Wirt asked.

“I promise you, sir, we will have the best-qualified teachers and the most modern books,” he told the Indian proudly, “and we’ll prepare the Cherokees to make a better living. They will learn the ways of the white man and find out how to do business with him.”

“White man not want to do business with Cherokee,” the old Indian protested. “White man not always right.”

“You’re correct, sir,” the missionary continued. “The white man is not always right.

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