K9 Mantrailing

 

Gallup looking so professional, though keeping her feminity obvious with her pink harness.  

2020 was a strange year, and there were so many losses, so many things that stopped or have been put on hold.  I love one new thing that came into our family.  Here's the story of how I "just happened" to meet a girl in the park, wearing a K9 Mantrailing T-Shirt.  

Tim and I took the Cousins for a hike one Saturday morning back in June, I think.  I saw Lauren, as I later came to know her with her man-trailing t-shirt, and it made me laugh, because it does sound a bit desperate for a man.  I asked questions, and she invited Gallup and I to a training session to check it out.

I was so excited!  One of my dreams since childhood was to train a dog for a blind person.  I like the idea of useful, working dogs.  The training sessions meet on Saturday morning which is perfect because Paul sequesters himself Saturday mornings so he wouldn't miss me if I took off for a few hours.  

Those Saturday training sessions are wonderful!  Turns out, Gallup has the number one talent for being a man-trailer:  DRIVE!  She LOVES finding things!  and people particularly.  So she has learned to sniff out people, with me in hot pursuit, dragging along ungracefully behind.  

Another fun thing, three of the cousins have joined me in this.  They are hiders and helpers and enjoyers of the whole Saturday morning outings.  We have tacked shakes onto the end once, and explored parts of towns where we rarely go, and just love our outings, except for eating dog hair.  Gallup is a shedder for sure.   

When she's not being an amazing sniffer dog, Gallup retains her other hobbies, particularly chasing Karoo the cat that lives downstairs.  

If I say, "Where's the Kitty?"  She runs to our bedroom window, as shown, and scans the yard tensely, hoping for a glimpse of Karoo.  I think it's too cute!  

 

Gallup's "classmate" Titan looks so pleased after a successful find of whoever was hiding.  His owner, Bruce, has been mentoring us.  Nathanael's face gives a clue on how much we enjoy these outings.   Daniel and Connie are bringing up the rear.  

Daniel, Connie, and Nathanael in their K9 Mantrailing shirts.  (Getting our shirts was a big deal to all of us.  😏)

A big perk of all this training has been a new friendship with Lauren.  She's a Christ follower too!  She goes to church where the pastor is our kids' former beloved youth group leader, Martin, so the girl talk in the middle of the dog talk is sweet.  😊  We didn't add too many new friends in 2020, but Lauren and her husband Bruce are keepers.  (She wasn't really desperate for a man, she had already caught hers.  :-)

Another of Gallup's passions is this particular frisbee.  She loves to lie down in the water and "sizzle" when it's hot.  She looks so pleased with herself.  I call her Halo-Head when she wears her frisbee.  Unfortunately, we have sunk 2 of them in the water so she doesn't have one right now.  

So I'm besotted with this dog, but who wouldn't be?  She loves me back, even to the smell of my socks!  Is that true love or what?  

I have high hopes that she will be a great asset to society and rescue missing people and give me a great story for a blog post.  😊

I want to have drive too, to find people who are lost in their sins, and need to come to their Creator.  I'd love to help find them.  

 

Tale of a Girl---And a Boy by guest writer Sonia (CLOUGH!!!) Einfeldt

 

Tale of a Girl… and a Boy (the true story of Mellba and Lee)

 

There was, growing up in the far-western New York village of Mayville, a small girl with the big name of Mellba Johanna Christina Erickson. Her parents were both second-generation Americans, but Swedish, as well as English, was spoken in the home. Her dad, Anton, was not a learned man, but was known around the town as “Tony the Tinker”. He could fix pots and other broken things. He painted the little statue in the village park fountain. He did odd jobs here and there. Mellba grew up in the Lutheran church in town, but her family were not believers. 

 

As a teen, Mellba was invited to the Baptist church, where she heard new and wonderful things about the Lord Jesus. She responded to the Lord’s call to salvation, and when she graduated from high school, she applied to Philadelphia School of Bible (PSOB) for further training. She was going to be a missionary! She was outgoing and loved people and fit in well with her classmates. 

 

Upon graduation from PSOB, she applied to a Baptist mission and was accepted. Her support? Her Baptist church in Mayville had said, “We’ll do what we can.” Her outfit? Her father made her a couple of metal trunks to hold her earthly belongings including a bicycle donated by the Baptist church. 

 

Meanwhile… Lee Einfeldt, a farm boy, had grown up just outside the western NY village of Randolph, NY. Lee was a quiet boy and remembers when someone kept asking him questions one day, he replied, “I dunno. Ask Lynnie (his brother). He likes to talk!” Each school day Lee and Lynn would hitch up a team of horses and ride into school in the village, park the team in the barn of the Baptist parsonage and walk the extra block from Church Street to School Street. And each weekend, the family would come into town together to worship at the First Baptist Church of Randolph, NY. After high school he and his brother Lynn enrolled in Houghton College and his supportive parents moved with their sons to a farm outside Rushford, NY, near Houghton. The family became active members of First Baptist Church of Rushford. Lynn studied business and didn’t enter the ministry until his retirement from IBM, but Lee was focused on missions. He was accepted as a missionary candidate… headed for French Equatorial Africa. 

 

On Mellba's final weekend in Mayville before leaving for France, her home church in Mayville was holding a Missionary Conference featuring returning and prospective missionaries.  Fully aware that she was to be a featured speaker that Saturday evening, she could not resist the "call" of the town fire-whistle. Both of her older brothers were firemen, and her natural adventurous instincts compelled her to jump on her bike and pedal across the back streets to share in the town excitement. This route took her past the First Baptist's parsonage, and a quick glance  afforded her a glimpse of a set of broad shoulders silhouetted in the front window. "Must be the guy who's wanting to go to Africa that I've heard about," she thought as she sped on by. They were formally introduced that evening, and learned that they were headed to the same field…with the same mission. They met the following morning in her family’s kitchen. (It's not known which of the ladies from the "Mellba Missionary Society" from her church made that arrangement, 😉)  Years later she told her daughter that as she stood behind him serving coffee that morning, she  thought, "Who would ever marry a guy with a nose like that?"  As for Lee, he was being polite; he never did develop a taste for coffee!  Mellba left for France the following morning, for language study.  The year was 1936. She spent the required year learning French at the Alliance Française before boarding a ship for Cameroon. Once there, she was to go inland to French Equatorial Africa. In those days, one method of transport was  by “push-push”, a seat on a frame with one wheel at the bottom and poles for young African men to push and steer from either end. She made it inland to the country she had been called to serve and which became her home for many years. Mellba plunged herself into learning Sango, the local trade language, and beginning her life work.

 

 Meanwhile, Lee, a man of few words, but with strength of body and character, finished his last year at Houghton College, then a year after Mellba had sailed for France, he also boarded a ship for French language school in Paris. His support? His sending church in Rushford promised to supply $35 a month!  

            Lee’s and Mellba’s first meeting was significant enough for the two to correspond the year she was in France and he was finishing his last year at Houghton, and they continued their correspondence during her 1st year learning Sango in French Equatorial Africa, and he learning French in Paris.

 

In 1938, having completed the French language requirements, Lee boarded a ship for his place of service – French Equatorial Africa.  All 1st year Sango studies were conducted at Ft. Crampel (now Kaga Bandoro), so after her own Sango studies, Mellba was transferred to Ft. Archambault (now Sarh) about the time Lee arrived in Crampel. The letters continued, and it seems Lee & Mellba weren't the only ones interested in this growing love story.  The older missionaries arranged that he not spend the entire year at Crampel, but was transferred early to Ft. Archambault for further studies.  Mellba was a great help to Lee as he learned the Sango language. With her experience of a year’s head-start on the language, she was able to tutor him on moonlight walks near the mango trees. Soon, he asked Mellba if she would be his wife. She said YES! 

 

One problem was that, according to the French law that governed French Equatorial Africa at that time, a woman desiring to wed before the age of 25 had to have her parents’ written permission! Problem: her parents were far away in the U.S. and mail across the Atlantic was slow in those days. Years later, when their daughter Shirley as an adult was looking at the permission paper that had been submitted, her eyes grew wide and she said, “The permission – that is MOM’s handwriting!” Her dad, Lee, smiled his wry smile and gave a slight nod. Mellba had signed in place of her parents and submitted the paperwork! The authorities granted permission to be married. 

 

June 5, 1939 was their wedding day. They had to first fulfill the requirement of the government ceremony with the Sous-Préfet (local official) presiding. After that, Rev. and Mrs. Lee Einfeldt welcomed friends at a church ceremony and a little reception afterward. 

 

Lee and Mellba embarked on their honeymoon in the African wild. One of the nights of their honeymoon, there was a lion prowling around their bungalow. Lee had to protect his bride and shot the lion dead! 

 

Life was not easy in those first years of marriage. Before they could get back to the States for their first furlough, Mellba received word via telegram that both her parents had died, so, after she left for France, she never saw them again. She also developed infection sacs in the gums under all her teeth. ALL her teeth had to be pulled and she had to wait a full 11 months before her mail-order dentures arrived from France! She lost weight down to 90 pounds! 

 

In 1943 during World War 2, as they headed back to the States for their first furlough, Lee and Mellba had to make a stop in Nigeria at a mission hospital, for Mellba to give birth to their firstborn son, Richard Lee. Later they boarded a troop ship with a naval escort across the Atlantic Ocean, hoping not to be bombed by the Axis forces. On the ship, Lee and Mellba had to be separated, Lee on the “men’s side” of the ship and Mellba and baby Richie on the “women’s side”. They would meet daily at the staircase where there was an opening for them to at least see each other and talk. 

 

Once back in Africa, almost 4 years later, Shirley Joan was added to their family, and 6 years after Shirley’s birth, their “late lamb”, René Allynn (the middle name a combination of his 2 uncles, Uncle Al and Uncle Lynn), completed their family, being born just in time for the annual missionary conference. Lee and Mellba served the Lord in various towns of Chad and the Central African Republic (after French Equatorial Africa was broken up into separate countries). Their main responsibilities included teaching in a Bible school to train national church leaders and encouraging already-established local churches. Lee also served on the language committee that helped revise the Bible which had been translated into the Sango language. Mellba served as a proofreader for the revised translation. 

 

They continued a fulfilling ministry in the Central African Republic until 1970 when health problems made their move back to the U.S. a necessity. For several more years they continued translation and proofreading work in the U.S. for the Sango language committee until they “retired” from missions and became the pastor and wife back in Lee’s hometown and home church of Randolph, NY for 10 more years. Lee was heard to remark, “I never changed jobs at age 63 before!” 

 

After Lee retired from the pastorate, Mellba suffered a massive stroke. After a month in the hospital, she was moved to a nursing facility, but it was poorly managed. One day Lee came home quite agitated after visiting Mellba. He told his youngest son, René (on furlough from Africa in Randolph, NY at the time) that he had decided he would bring Mellba home to care for her. This was a massive undertaking and although René and his wife tried to show him all the reasons that would be a difficult task, he was determined. When they offered to stay home from Africa to help him, he vehemently refused… so for the next 6 years, Lee cared for Mellba, bathed her, fed her, turned her several times a day, so that she never had a bedsore. He showed the community of Randolph what the godly love of a boy for a girl could look like, following the example of Christ loving His church and giving Himself for her. 

 

-- by Sonia Einfeldt, daughter-in-law of Lee and Mellba

(I truly had the best second set of parents ever!) 

Sonia recently borrowed my book Love Letters from Africa by my friend Virginia (Young!) Ross, who went to Heaven in February  at the age of 100 years, 105 days.  I put Virginia's testimony on my blog back in 2010, and it was so fun as someone googled her, and Virginia was surprised and delighted to hear that she was "googleable"  

Sonia was telling me similarities between Virginia's story and her in-laws story also as missionaries in Africa, so I asked her to write it down for me. She went the second mile and put a picture in too.  

Sonia and I met in 2016 at a ladies conference and became friends.  We were so surprised when we learned we have the same maiden name!  Amazing!  But we haven't figured out if we're related.  We also both did time at Bob Jones in Greenville, SC, so we have a lot to talk about when we're together.  She and her husband Rene are missionaries in Kimberley, South Africa right now, though having visa problems.  

More Tract-Meet Notes

 

Paul had 2 boys make a profession of faith today! 

 

Little girl to Tim alone:  Are you white people?😂

 

We met several Christians today in Manenberg who are so enthusiastic, and seemed so encouraged to see us reaching out in their neighborhood.

 

Last week we went to a new place, but we didn’t know the name of it.  I asked a teen and she said, “Guguletu.” Sobered me right up. 

In that neighborhood, three groups of adults spoke to Tim and me saying something to the tune of, “What are you doing here?  It’s dangerous.  You need to get out!”  Then we met those teens, who told us where we were and said, “No, it’s not dangerous here.”  To them it’s just home. 

 

Skipped a day for tired.  Skipped a day for weather.  Hard to find walkers in bad weather.  

Gugulethu stands out as having some super aggressive kids!  They wanted tracts, and more tracts, and all the languages, and they were willing to rip them out of our hands if we relaxed for a second.  They mobbed around us by the dozens, making sure that we were noticed in case our “height and white” wasn’t calling enough attention to us. 

 

After Guguletu we slid back into Manenberg for a day.  Paul really had some good talks with people. He prayed with three different individuals or groups.  He talked to a group of boys, maybe 6 of them, and they prayed to ask the Lord to save them.  Next was 2 girls, maybe 10 years old, and then there was a man named Douglas.  They had quite  a talk.  Douglas had just lost his business, and was feeling pretty hopeless.  They prayed, Douglas asked the Lord to save him.  He appreciated Paul's help.

 

We ran into LOTS of kids that knew Paul from Phoenix High School or Easterpeak Primary School. 

 

When we were in Guguletu over the weekend, it felt like half the people—more than half the males—were drunk.  I forgot it was a holiday which probably upped the liquid intake.  One (drunk) guy was disappointed in our tracts, saying, “I thought you were giving out vouchers.” 

He recovered from his disappointment quickly, and then pointed out his friends who “needed it” (religion).  Some people love to sic us on their friends as a joke. 

Another guy, also in the tipsy department, said something like, “We are hungry!  You need to give us money for food.” 

Looking at his bulging tummy, I laughed and said, “I think you and I need a diet!”  He laughed too, and sort of agreed. 

Thursday we had a remarkable day:  no one turned ANY of us down for tracts!  Worth noting.  Rare.  Cool!  Thankful!

Paul had a fun moment.  Some guy asked for 50 rand to go with it.  Paul ponged back with, “No, no.  I’m only charging 40 rand for this one.”  The man laughed.  They just have to take a chance that we are millionaires, looking for places to disperse our wealth. 

Usually, when they say they need money, Paul says emphatically that this message on the tracts is even more important!

Another one today, a young Muslim couple was sitting in a little car with a sun roof.  Paul walked up and handed a tract down through the sun roof, saying, “A message from Heaven.”  They laughed and received it with thanks.

Today we were in a very tame neighborhood compared to some places we’ve been, but we still got solemnly warned of how dangerous it was. 

April 2nd we moved to the Port Elizabeth area.  Port Elizabeth has recently changed its name to something very not-user-friendly so I'm being old fashioned and sticking to the old name.  First we were in a nice neighborhood where there were few walkers, so our tract passing wasn't very memorable.  Then we tried a more pedestrian place, but it was rainy so again, we weren't scoring too many.  I was driving, Paul and Tim were hopping in and out of the car as we found little groups.  I did get a few to come to my window, one of whom was a young girl who looked terrified of Paul.😄  

He had several groups of mostly boys listen to the plan of salvation and pray with him.  Now they're on his prayer list for life, I think.  

Tract-Meet Diary part 2

So many days, all the fun little things that happen just get forgotten. I must try to capture them.

 One apartment complex where we went today said something like, "Just don't go over there. They are shooting.: We went over there. At apartment complex number 2, they said, "Just don't go over there (where we had just been), they killed two people dead!" I laughed, and the little boy explained to me that it's not funny when people get dead, and I was supposed to cry. I was ashamed of myself and tried to explain that I was not laughing about the dead people, but just at the way each apartment complex thought the other was the bad one. 

 On New Year's Eve, we got our spare tire stolen off the back of the Jeep while we were tracting in Nyanga. Tonight, a guy very carefully watched the Jeep for us, he said. Being a tease to the bone, I couldn't resist. "But where's our tire?" I asked. He was concerned. I didn't let him stay concerned for too long, but told him it was already stolen before we got there.  

I love how the Polsmoor  Prison "grads" light up when they see Paul!  There were several today.  

Two girls took my number.  We'll see if they call.  I hope that wasn't a dumb thing to do, giving out my number.

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Today (the 9th) Tim had a guy call him over so he could get a tract.  Tim gave him one, noting that the man was drunk.  The man waved a wine goblet at Tim and said, "Take a picture.  Tell Ramaphosa (the SA President) we are thirsty."  

Our current lockdown plan includes no alcohol on sale, which he had obviously managed to bypass.  The banning of alcohol sales has cut out a lot of crime and injuries.

I had 2 cute little boys come for seconds on tracts.  "They did break." was the reason for the second go round.  Apparently someone ripped someone's.  

Paul had a group of boys who prayed, and made a profession of faith.  

An ultra sweet encounter in the street.  Several prayed aloud to be saved.  I rarely take pictures of moments like these, but this time I felt unobtrusive in the car.  

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Today I brazenly invaded a braai (BBQ), saying, "I'm crashing your party." I passed out tracts to everyone, laughing, and, thankfully, they thought it was funny too.  Phew! 

Paul ran into an encouraging guy who is an evangelist, street preacher, former gangster, and wanted some tracts.  He watched Paul for a while first, then told someone, "He's a man of God," then came over to talk.  He was a real encouragement to Paul.  

He met a guy at visa and passport place who said, "Hey, I know you.  You gave me some money once."  Paul didn't remember him at all, though it sounded vaguely familiar.  

Hanover Park has been a fun environment.  On Thursday, we saw a lot of little kiddie pools, and a LOT of wet people.  Such a nice community feel there, so many people in the streets.  

Two little girls asked me to pray for them, just a blessing.  Not sure I handled that right, but I did pray.  

It's so helpful when someone recognizes us from Paul's chalk drawing on the front of the "Which Way Are You Going?" tract.  Instant better reception.  Tim also gets recognized from speaking in schools.  

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We met a man walking with only one page of the This Was Your Life Tract, reading that one page.  We told him we could give him the whole book, and he was glad to get it. 

I got an arm put around me by a drunk today.  😒  Not my favorite.  Tim was across a courtyard.  I twisted his finger and left.  (Thanks to my cousin Butchie for evasive action training as kids.  It comes in handy sometimes!)  Another drunk rebuked me for offering to touch elbows with him.  He wanted to touch wrists because, "I'm a gentleman," he said.

Paul had three teenage guys pray with him today.  A Muslim guy refused a tract, because he is Muslim, and Paul said, "This is for everybody."  And then his friends chimed in and agreed he should take it, so he caved in and took it, and a few minutes later was praying with Paul.  

I came into one courtyard right after a rock fight that left one boy quite injured around his eye.  The whole courtyard was in a hubbub.   I was nervous of being the recipient of a rock too.  I was wishing I spoke more Afrikaans, though I got the gist of it anyway.  Rocks were thrown, people were mad, and a boy was bleeding.  

Both Tim and I were sore today after our Table Mountain climb yesterday.  Anytime we had to climb stairs to give to people up on the landings, it was rough!  We groaned and moaned and laughed at each other.  

Lots of the kids ask for extras to give their friends, their "ma" (Grandma), or other person.  We have to try to figure out if they're for real or just collecting a handful to waste.  Today one boy brought his back. His Dad said he couldn't keep it as he is Muslim.  One Muslim lady passed her tract on to someone else because she thought she should not keep it.

Sometimes people ask (to be funny) for languages we don't have.  Paul told a man, "Well, the words are in English, but the pictures are in Xhosa."  His humor usually goes over pretty well.  I just love when they ask for Spanish, and I can call their bluff by saying, "Oh, hablas espanol?"  

Paul walked up behind a young man, and startled him big time!  He gasped, "You look like an angel!"

And Paul, I suppose because of an old joke with his brother Joseph, answered quick back, "A good angel or a bad angel?"

The man said, "Good."

Paul:  Why?  

"Because you're so big."

I think I'm never going to hear the end of this one.  😏

The joke:  You have the face of an angel!  A fallen angel!  But why did you have to fall on your face?

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Three young teen girls ran giggling inside their house to avoid Paul (rare!) so he circled back later and caught them outside again.  They evacuated again, so he left them tracts outside their home, just in case all that running was just playing hard to get.  

Some people say, "I don't want that.  Give me R100.  I need Money!"  

Paul's response tends to be something like, "Yeah, that's important, but this is a lot more important."  The devil would like us to think we can't give the gospel until we have met all their physical needs.  

He had that today, 

and then... TWO car guards prayed to be saved!  Separately.  

Manenerg was such a cool experience.  We started yesterday, me with nerves, so much crime, and it turned out so well.  Kids came running up the street to see what we had to offer.  Teens recognized Paul from their schools, and some of the girls acted like he was a movie star, "I can't believe it's you!  I can't believe you're here."  Adults came out to see what was going on.  

Manenberg has a reputation for lots of shootings (hence my nerves) but there was a great response.  The last sidewalk group Paul talked to saw several young guys praying to be saved!  They asked for prayer.  (One might have been a Polsmoor Prison"grad").  One threatened the little kids what he would do to them if they dropped the tracts on the ground. 😊

Wynberg dump!  Tim told me gleefully that they added a new destination:  the Wynberg Dump.  There's a bunch of guys that hang out there trying to get things to recycle.  

Lines are a favorite destination!  The unemployment lines, education center, and the Department of Home Affairs attract evangelists like a fly to honey.  Well, maybe only my evangelists.

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Paul kind of crashed a funeral this afternoon.  He wasn't too pushy, but did give a lot of tracts.  I'm just not clear on why a funeral was sort of on the sidewalk.  Mysterious.  

Tim's been asked a few times if he's white.  

I liked a question I got this evening, "Are you with Jesus?"  Yes, we're with Jesus!