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Around the World in 88 Years -E Book - Arthur Burt

Around the World in 88 Years -E Book - Arthur Burt

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It’s easy for a missionary to go to <strong>the</strong>se places and kick up a st<strong>in</strong>k,denounce everyth<strong>in</strong>g... and leave <strong>the</strong> poor people who are <strong>the</strong>reall <strong>the</strong> time to reap <strong>the</strong> persecution, bitterness and hatred whichcame from people like me.But I do see persecution differently. I read <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong> Word, “…allthat will live godly <strong>in</strong> Christ Jesus shall suffer persecution.” (IITim 3:12) So it’s <strong>the</strong>re! And if you’re not be<strong>in</strong>g persecuted <strong>in</strong>some measure, you come under <strong>the</strong> next th<strong>in</strong>g where Jesus says,“Woe unto you, when all men shall speak well of you!” (Luke6:26) It’s not an acceptable th<strong>in</strong>g with God to be popular with<strong>the</strong> world.The rubbish dump <strong>in</strong> GuatemalaIn all <strong>the</strong> places I have been, I have never been so grieved overpoverty as I was <strong>in</strong> Guatemala when I visited a vast rubbish dump,a mile <strong>in</strong> diameter, <strong>in</strong> an area called The Place of No Hope. Hundredsof people live <strong>in</strong> t<strong>in</strong>y makeshift huts <strong>the</strong>re, where <strong>the</strong>y pullwhatever <strong>the</strong>y could f<strong>in</strong>d to use, and even to eat, off <strong>the</strong> tip of<strong>the</strong> rubbish. The tip is strewn with corpses of animals, and somehave said it even conta<strong>in</strong>s a few human corpses.They have no water supply and no toilets <strong>the</strong>re. Sewers run open,level with <strong>the</strong> surface of <strong>the</strong> ground, and little children play <strong>in</strong> itwith <strong>the</strong>ir f<strong>in</strong>gers, mak<strong>in</strong>g mud pies and islands as <strong>the</strong> ur<strong>in</strong>e-filledsewer water runs on its way. The stench of it all made me wish Icould stop breath<strong>in</strong>g.We took <strong>the</strong> people big cans of soup, and children brought pa<strong>in</strong>tt<strong>in</strong>s from <strong>the</strong> dump to get <strong>the</strong>m filled. When <strong>the</strong> pastor and Ireturned to his house, which conta<strong>in</strong>ed only six beds and a shelf,I was sorrowfully moved see<strong>in</strong>g that pa<strong>the</strong>tic little house of God,an old cracked tambour<strong>in</strong>e — all <strong>the</strong> music <strong>the</strong>y had, and <strong>the</strong>children wait<strong>in</strong>g with big sh<strong>in</strong><strong>in</strong>g eyes. I don’t weep easily, but Idid weep. I gave away everyth<strong>in</strong>g I had with me — my money,my purse, my scissors, my knife. If I had given <strong>the</strong> pastor a Cadillac,he couldn’t have been more thrilled than when I parted with mypen knife.Everyth<strong>in</strong>g is gray and colorless <strong>the</strong>re. I vowed that on my nexttrip, I would take as many Christmas cards, birthday cards, whatever,to <strong>the</strong> children, so <strong>the</strong>y might have a little color <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir211

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