J.Q., “History” sent the following story for consideration and editing a few days before Christmas. It was meant to be a Christmas “Chaplain’s Corner”. I think you will agree with me that this is an inspiration for all the year. Jesus instructed us that “Loving God and our Brother” is the most important opportunity given to us during this short ride that we call life. When asked who our brother included, Jesus explained that he is the one in need and most different from “our kind”. J.Q. and Pat Q went out of their way to help these strangers, respect their difference, and live out the “greatest commandment”. In turn, the experience is their best Christmas memory and I think a deposit in the treasury of Heaven was made in their name. ENJOY THIS MOVING MEMORY.      

                                                                                    Merry Christmas and Happy 09,

                                                                                    “Irish” Ed Mahan

                                                                                     National Chaplain BFMC

ERITREAN CHRISTMAS

Once upon a time in the mid 1970’s or so I was in the janitorial contracting business in Dallas when an unusual series of events unfolded. A small thin black man walked in to our staging area and asked, “You got work for me?” He was dressed sort’a odd and spoke with an unknown accent. “No” I said and he left.

Next day he showed up again in the same clothes and asked, “You got work for me?” NO! And if you come back tomorrow, the answer will still be the same. Third day he came back saying “I know the answer is no but when can it be yes? However, that day I knew I was going to be short my trash man and I did admire this strange dude’s persistence. Okay I’ll give you a try if you have a work permit…and he did! He had a long complicated first and last name so I just called him ‘Mengus.’

I showed him how to run the freight elevator, collect the trash from each of the 35 floors, and where to depose it in the dumpster on the dock. He did a great job and even took it upon his on to sweep all the freight landings, something I had not even asked him to do.

Next day he showed up early as usual and asked, “You got work for me?” Yes tonight you can sweep both stairwells from 35^th floor down. With in two hours he came to me saying, “I finish – you got more work for me?” That would have taken most employees four hours if in fact they could have walked that many stairs.

To make a long story not quiet so long…as time went on more of his kind came to ask if I had work for them. I kept hiring them and promoted Mengus to supervisor to over-see them. They were from a little country in North Africa called Eritrea and they had been fighting a 30-year civil war with Ethiopia. After fighting three major battles, or having been severely wounded, or for other honorable deeds they were allowed to migrate to Italy. From there the Catholic Mission helped some of them come to America.

After about a year Mengus came to me and explained that he needed help getting his wife Elsa and their son to America. That he had saved enough money to pay smugglers to take them to Sudan. But, from there she would have to have an American employer to fill out a confirmation statement that she would be employed if she were permitted to immigrate to the USA. No problem Mengus, I’ll do that.

*(See related footnotes for more information)

A few months later, he asked me to let him take off for a couple of weeks. He needed to go to Sudan and move his family out of a refuge camp and on to Khartoum. Also, he needed the employment letter to present to the US Ambassador’s office there with an application for emigration.

After he got back, he was sad. They were told that the waiting period was at least two to six years. Pat Q and I decided that just wasn’t good enough and we had to do what ever we could to speed the process up. We had no clue of how to do it but we got busy inquiring. I went to the ‘World Relief’ and Pat made many phone calls to government offices. Eventually we were told that only a high-ranking government official could help move the process along. So we went to Congressman Jim Wright’s office and explained our story. He was very sympathetic about the issue.

Right away Jim Wright fired off a letter to our Ambassador in Sudan requesting special consideration for Elsa & son. They were immediately moved to the top of the waiting list. A few weeks later, they had a visa and were on their way to reunite with Mengus. We went to the airport with Mengus and friends to meet them. It was a very emotional happy day.

A little later Mengus insisted that Pat and I attend a special dinner party at their apartment, and he wanted to know where he could buy a live goat. It was the first or second week in January as I recall. Come to find out it was Christmas for the Eritrean Orthodox Christians. We attended but I didn’t mention the goat to Pat.

There were about 30 of them (men, women, & children) attending and most of the adults were employed by us. There were many good smelling candles lit all around the place. They were dressed in their native clothing in which was Arabic in nature. Looked sort of like people you see pictured in the Bible. You know like Mary, Joseph and the Wisemen and such. After many warm greetings they asked Pat and I to sit with them on the floor around a large round coffee type table. Pat was the only lady invited to sit there with the men (because of their respect for our American customs). The rest of the women took turns bring in food, and then they would go hide and peak around the doors.

The main dish was a large bowl of some kind of shredded meat (Baaah) floating in a spicy sauce along with chunks of potatoes, carrots, and I don’t know what all. We were given a pancake type of sponge bread in the center of the plate and folks started dipping the meat and sauce and stuff out and covering their sponge cake. Then, without any silverware, they would tear of chunks of the food with their fingers and slurp it up. They served a salad and fruit as the desert (they don’t eat anything sweeter than fruit).

After we men (and Pat) completed our meal, they broke out a special orange drink that tasted a lot like tang. It was explained to me that it was a type of homemade wine that was only served at Christmas. At no other time of the year do they drink any kind of alcohol and their women, and of course children, weren’t allowed to even drink the tang. As we men went outside and toasted our beverage drinks the women and children got their turn to eat.

After the food was put away, everybody gathered and started telling stories. As best we could determine it was like testimonies of appreciation and thanks to Jesus, one another, and Pat & I. Mengus tried to interpret for us but it was going too fast. One man named Yugallem said he would beat up my best friend for me. “Why my best friend…don’t he mean my worst enemy?” Then Yugallem added that if my best friend ever betrayed me he would be worse than my enemy! That got a big laugh from everyone. I gather it was some kind of culture saying for them. Or maybe it was a reference to Judas’ betrayal of Jesus?

Then it became gift-giving time. They gave Pat a large crystal bowl with three large candles (green, red, & white). They gave me a bottle of Johnny Walker because they knew I liked whisky. I acted grateful even though I hate scotch. Then as they exchanged simple gifts of things like scarves, gloves, etc. with each other, the women would wag their tongs from side to side and make a funny shrill sound of excitement. I think those were the most grateful folks we’ve ever seen. They were obviously and thoroughly enjoying celebrating their special Christmas.

Many years have past and those Eritrans have gone on to becoming very productive successful citizens. Their children learned English and got good educations, including college degrees for many. Every Christmas Pat and I can’t help but remember and be thankful for that special Christmas experience we shared with our foreign friends.

Merry Christmas

JQ & PQ

• (Footnote)  After Mengus sent his hard-earned savings to pay the smugglers, he feared the worst.  Three months went by and he hadn’t heard another thing from his wife.  Finally he received a letter from her explaining:

The caravan Elsa and Son were in was led deep into the scorching desert.  There the smugglers robbed all the people and then abandoned them, leaving only a small amount of water and no food.  However, as a change of luck with in a few days they were rescued by an ELF (Eritrea Liberation Front) scouting patrol and taken to an outpost.  They were given food and water but retained at that location for two weeks while a runner went back to their headquarters to make the report on finding the wanderers.

Finally, he returned with instructions that said Mengus’ name was listed in very good standings with the ELF.  He had filled the role as important information operative until someone ratted him out and he barley escaped before the Ethiopian agents came looking for him.  In revenge, they took his father out into the street and shot him dead in front of family and friends.

As instructed the ELF had escorts take Elsa & son on across the desert to a refuge camp just inside the Sudan border.  It was every bit as bad as things we’ve seen on TV about refuge camps in places like Rwanda.  There was no sanitation, clean water, or adequate food.  They had to share a cramped tent.  Worse yet there were no means of communication with the outside world…no phones or postal service.  They were hopelessly stuck there as the Sudan army guarded the camp to make sure no one was allowed to leave without proper paperwork authorization.

Eventually Elsa talked a missionary worker in to taking and mailing a letter for her.  It was a letter to Mengus pleading for him to come and rescue them.  It was the first word that Mengus received letting him know that his family was still alive.