Welcome to our series You're Not Alone, in which Allen Sonter, for many years a missionary educator in the islands of the South Pacific, tell stories that help us to know that God is always watching over us wherever we are.
This episode is entitled When Semisi Changed His Mind. If you listen to the last episode, you'll remember how, through a series of remarkable events, the ship that was supposed to be travelling from Pangai Via Tofua to Nukolofa in the Kingdom of Tonga, ended up taking me to the islands of Hafeva and Namuka.
You will recall that I was visiting primary schools on various islands, conducting entrance examinations for Bueller College, the main 7th day Adventist secondary school in the Kingdom. And in the afternoon of the day I told you about, in the last episode, we were on our way to the island of half [unk]ever on that small government ship. The breeze was pleasant as the ship throbbed its way over the swells that set it rolling more than was comfortable.
I used the word throbbed to describe the way that ship moved, because it was driven by an engine that felt as though it was throbbing right through my body and shaking me apart. Still, at least I was going where I wanted to go, and where, quite evidently, God also wanted me to go. So I was not about to complain of the means of transport.
A few days earlier I had telegrammed the headmaster of the primary school on the island of Halfeava, telling him that I was planning to visit the island to administer the Bueller entrance examinations and inviting him to arrange for the children at his school to sit the tests. I had indicated that I expected to be there in the morning or early afternoon of the day that I was now going to be there. The only difference was that I would now arrive quite late in the afternoon, just before sunset.
As we neared the island, I looked at the sun so low in the sky and hoped that the later time would not pose a problem. Of course, everyone who lives on those islands knows that times are only tentative. One could ever be sure about the times ships will arrive or depart, or whether they will even come or not.
As our story last week showed, ships plans change without notice, so nobody's surprised when a ship comes late or simply doesn't turn up at all. Huffeva is just a small, flat coral atoll that at some time in the past was overlaid by a thick layer of good soil blown out by some volcano not too far away. It's quite fertile and supports quite a large village.
It's surrounded by reefs, so ships can approach and anchor on only one side of the island. As we eased through the reef to the anchorage, the sun hung just above the western horizon. The anchor chain ran out.
Noisily, the propeller churned the water in reverse and our ship came to a stop 100 meters or so offshore. Within a few minutes, the dinghy had been lowered. My helper, Stephen and I were rowed ashore.
A walk of several hundred meters brought us to an open area just outside the village, and I made inquiries to find Semisi, the school headmaster. Before long, a dignified gentleman approached us from the direction of the village and introduced himself as Semisi. The headmaster enjoyed a quite respected status on the island, and I was anxious to enlist his cooperation in arranging for the examination.
We exchanged a few words of friendly greeting and then I got down to business. So, missy, I'm sorry, we've arrived later than the telegram said we would, but you know how it is with these ships, I began. The ship is due to leave about three in the morning, so I'm wondering whether you could arrange to have the grade six children come over to the school for the exam.
Semisy looked at me as if to assess my determination. Well, you said that you would be here earlier today. I was expecting you this morning.
It's really too late to call the children now, he mumbled rather apologetically. It'll be dark soon, and the children will be needing to get some rest. I think the best thing for you to do will be to leave the examination papers with me and then I'll administer the exam tomorrow and send the completed papers to you by the next ship for marking.
Now this posed something of a problem. For a start, the tests I was using were especially designed to assess the general ability of the children, and they had to be administered under standard conditions. That's why I was making the trip myself in the first place.
A second problem was that it was a matter of some importance to local headmasters to have as many as possible of their children pass the secondary entrance examinations. Headmasters of schools achieving high pass rates attained considerable prestige in the community. So if Sam Misik could administer the tests himself, it would provide him the opportunity to ensure that his pupils were in no way disadvantaged.
To put the matter as politely as possible, samisi thought that he was in a strong bargaining position, as indeed he was looking at from a purely human point of view. I tried to reason with him, but samisi, I began, these tests are special ones. They have to be timed very carefully, and the exact wording of instructions is very important.
If the children have any questions, the one administering the tests has to know which questions may be answered and how and which questions the children should figure out for themselves as part of the general ability test. So I can't just leave the test with you to administer? It will be a pity if your children don't have an opportunity to try out for Bueller College when I'm here already and it's just a matter of calling them to come but Samiti could not be persuaded. Perhaps he hoped that I would eventually accept his suggestion or perhaps he just wasn't used to having his decisions questioned.
Whatever the reason, Samiti was determined there would be no tests that evening. He beckoned toward the school buildings which stood across the open area on the opposite side from the village. We can go and wait in the schoolhouse until it's time to go back to the ship, he said.
At least that will be a bit more comfortable for you than standing here. He turned to lead the way to the school. The path to the school ran up the side of the open area for perhaps 50 meters then formed a T junction where it met the path from the village to the school.
At the T junction, the path to the right led to the village and the path to the left led to the school. As we began to walk up the path towards the junction Samisi led the way and Stephen and I followed. I recall quite clearly looking at the back of Semeshi's head and saying to the Lord lord, you've done some wonderful things to get us here today and I'm sure you want me to give the children these tests.
Please get into the head of this man in front of me and impress him to change his mind, if that's your will. We walked up the path in silence as I wondered what the Lord would do. When we reached the junction, Semisi turned around and said you go ahead over to the schoolhouse while I go to the village and get a light and call the children.
Yes, it took God just those few minutes while we were walking up that path to change Samisi's mind. And that's not the end of the story. It didn't take Samisi long to round up the 15 or so children from his class six and before long we saw the light approaching the schoolhouse as Samisi led his band of enthusiastic hopefuls toward their date with destiny.
Samishi seemed to be in good spirits. His former reserve had vanished and he had become quite jovial. The light was hung from the roof and the children sat on the long benches that passed for school desks.
Instructions were issued and at the signal to begin heads were bent over the papers in deep concentration. There were several tests in the battery but before long they were over and I set about marking them with the keys I had with me. I told the children that if they'd liked to wait a little while they could learn the results.
That evening, after reading the names of those who qualified for entry to Bueller College I asked them to remain a moment so I could tell them something about the college. At the conclusion, I asked would you put up your hands if you would really like to come to Bueller College? Next year. Most hands went up and I particularly noted a bright little fellow in the back bench waving his hand energetically.
A big smile brightened Samishi's face. See that boy down there? He beamed, pointing to the little fellow at the back. That's my son.
So the day ended most successfully, with everyone happy and a job well done. I was not alone. God was there to work things out.
Listening, friend, wherever you are right now, you are not alone. Why suffer anxiety, worry and fear that can only do you harm? Take your problems to God in prayer and you will find that the God who loves you is right there with you.
You've been listening to our series You're Not Alone stories told by Allen Sonter that help us to know that God is always watching over us, wherever we are. If you have any comments or questions, send an email to
[email protected] or give us a call within Australia on zero two four nine seven, three three four five.
Six. May God bless you and remember you are not alone. You have been listening to a production of Three ABN Australia australia Radio.
