Pajama Story

My uncle, Emanuel J. Sorenson, was a missionary in Ethiopia and Jamaica before and after World War II. Once a week there will be story that provides a glimpse of what missionary life was like for his family, as related by his daughter and my cousin, Jane Spear.

“That cat” was majestically occupying a favorite position at the head of the bed. Loud purring with an occasional swishing of the tail and stretching legs indicated a decision to stay. This was what Shirley had also decided. After all, “that cat” also was known to be helpful in pouncing on the lizards, which came through the unscreened windows. There were no screens on the windows of our home in Jamaica, which did not disturb us. In spite of all the good qualities possessed by “that cat” and Shirley’s insistence that the cat deserved our loving care, it was not the cat but the hundreds of fleas that swarmed into our sleeping bodies that I found objectionable. “If that cat stays, I go,” I announced to Mother. That was the decision, and I moved to the sun porch at one end of the house. Mother had made café curtains to pull closed on the three sides. My Jamaican friends jokingly advised me to keep the curtains pulled closed at all times, especially during the bright new moon of the tropics. The golden beams would cause hideous disfigurement, “and don’t forget the duppies ghosts,” was the advice. Besides, the soft lacy Poinciana leaves outside the window did not completely obscure the view from the sidewalk outside which led to the porch of the boy’s dorm. The sun porch was a great solution. The disappearance of “that cat” was a mystery.

Read more at Adventist Perspective.