MICRONESIA
Our Sabbath I
Miracle 1
10
couldn’t have asked for a better way to spend my first Sabbath morning as a volunteer teacher on the island of Yap. Sarah, a friend and fellow volunteer at the Yap Seventh-day Adventist School, wanted to visit a little church where she had occasionally worshipped the previous school year. “It’s unlike any church that you’ve ever seen in the United States,” she explained, whetting my appetite for cultural adventure. “It’s a tiny one-room tin house tucked away in a jungle village.” When she asked Nallely, our fourth grade teacher, and me whether we wanted to join her, we jumped at the opportunity. Early Sabbath morning, Sarah, Nallely, and I eagerly climbed into the little green car that had been made available for volunteers and were soon bumping along the road, dodging potholes and chatting happily. It wasn’t long before the wide, paved road turned into a narrow, dirt one. Surrounded by lush, towering vegetation, we drove leisurely through small villages dotted with tin homes. The fresh morning air smelled of wood smoke and breakfast. Children chased each other, laughing, in the dewsoaked grass. And chickens, seemingly unconcerned for their lives, pecked in the dirt mere inches from our tires. Sometimes we caught glimpses of the shimmering ocean through the trees. It was a perfect morning . . . except for one thing. We couldn’t find the church. We drove along the long, winding road once. Then twice. Were we in the wrong area? That seemed unlikely. Not only had Sarah visited the church before, she had asked someone for detailed directions the night before in case memory failed her. Finally, after we had driven the same stretch of road three times, we decided to give up our search and move on to plan B. Sarah drove a few more minutes and then turned into a driveway and got out of the car. Nallely and I followed her, curiously, as she walked
