Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: ANGELS WATCHING OVER ME (don’t write about the song) (06/04/15)
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TITLE: The Mything Persons | Previous Challenge Entry
By Jack Taylor
06/08/15 -
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The Kenyan missionary at the Rift Valley Academy, on the 700 acre campus of Kijabe in Kenya, swore it on the Bible, “there was no one here.”
If ever a tale of guardian angels could be suspect it might be this one.
It was Saturday, March 28, 1953 and 100 missionary kids huddled in terror within the Kiambogo building. The few staff responsible for them were just as frightened. The message had been passed to the staff quietly. It had been overheard and passed on by a student. 300 blood-oathed killers were on their way to eliminate this citadel of Christian influence.
With all the believable reports on the atrocities of this group, those behind the barricades called for a legion of angels to deliver them.
Everyone had heard the news. These killers had intercepted a local pastor on his way to church and chopped his child in half. There were African schools, a hospital and other ministries on site. A lot was at stake. Missions through all of East Africa could be paralyzed if the marauders were successful.
A single bell on a tower would alert everyone if the Mau Mau got closer. Not a single angel had ever been seen in this area by missionary or by national.
That day in 1953, only one British Officer named Chipps supported a platoon of Luo soldiers known as the King’s African Rifles. The soldiers were experienced through a stint in Burma during the second world war, so they were ready.
The missionary kid school was surrounded by barbed wire, pointed sticks, bright lights and a Luo Sergeant Major with a single Bren gun. Desperate prayer warriors stood on guard. To fight against a riotous mob was one thing. To withstand the barrage of 300 Kikuyu warriors determined to rid their land of colonial settlers, missionaries and converted countrymen was another.
Evacuations had been rehearsed and successfully practiced before but this day proved to be a problem. The two trucks designated for a mass evacuation were unavailable. One was off station on loan and one was broken down and waiting for parts. Not enough vehicles were available to move everyone so everyone stayed. Not even a band of angels could carry this group to safety.
A full moon bathed the jacaranda trees, the bougainvillea bushes, and the olive trees in a swath of silver. The eerie cry of bush babies and a lone leopard sounded. The bolts on the doors slid into place.
The shots came soon after dark down by the hospital. Students huddled in fear. The girls had worn their jeans to bed and sewn goodbye letters to their parents into the legs, hoping that one day their final thoughts and wishes would be known. Lives were rededicated to Jesus and prayers for guardian angels sounded all over the station.
The warning bell sounded and the distinctive air horns responded from each building. The hospital’s horn was silent. The twenty King’s African Rifles darted out of the basement of the Kiambogo building, where they were headquartered, and headed toward the battle. They came back dragging one bloodied prisoner. The rest of the Mau Mau had melted into the forest.
“Tell us again, or we will beat you some more”, the Sergeant Major threatened.
“Three hundred, there were three hundred of us.”
“Myths, lies,” yelled the interrogator.
The weakened warrior cowered beneath the towering soldier, “I saw fully armed guardians standing around the whole perimeter of the station. We could find no way past them. We shot and shot and the bullets went right through them.” He looked down. “We knew the missionaries had powerful magic and so we ran.”
“And why were you caught?”
“I was knocked in the panic and fell on a bamboo stick which pierced me. I couldn’t move quick enough to get away.”
The Sergeant Major gave a strong kick to the youth on the ground.
“Myths! Your blood oaths and strong drink have boggled your mind and twisted your tongue. You shoot at ghosts and now you try to act insane to prompt our mercy. There will be none for butchers.”
The missionary stepped forward and held out a restraining hand. “I believe him. We’ve been praying. Psalm 91:11 says that “he shall give his angels charge over thee, to keep thee in all thy ways. I believe that these men saw guardian angels all around.”
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The only red ink I have is minor. Don't start a sentence with numerals; write it out or rearrange it so another word such as There're starts the sentence. Also remember the comma when a conjunction such as and or but joins two independent clauses.
You did a wonderful job of pacing this story. The message is a profound one; it gives me goosebumps when I think about it. You nailed the topic too. I thoroughly enjoyed it.