A Banana Sandwich from God

One of our many stories of how the Lord has looked after us!

Lunch time was approaching in the village. Occasionally we would be invited to a villager’s home to eat. But today the noon meal was getting too close for that to look like it was going to happen. We’d been in tights spots financially before. In fact, we were learning to actually welcome them because God always worked in ways that left us speechless and full of praise. After all, there was that one time early on when we ran out of propane for the stove. So we sat a few cans of food on the hood of our bus to soak in the Central American sunshine. Of course we could have eaten the canned stew cold. However, it was nice to have a slightly warmed lunch. Wondering what we would do for supper that evening, our query was answered by a local pastor’s son who came to invite us to his house for dinner.

It was through recalling instances like this that gave us courage to wait patiently on the Lord this particular day. As we took stock of our pantry, it wasn’t completely empty. There were a few slices of bread and some peanut butter. We certainly weren’t going to starve, but some variety would be welcome. Just as we were about to begin our simple lunch preparations, a young girl appeared and made her way up the walk towards our front door. She had in her hand what was obviously a bag of bananas. This wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. At least once or twice a week a child would come around to sell whatever tropical fruit happened to be in season. Sometimes we bought and other times we didn’t. Sometimes which ever one of us was handling the deal would smile at the price and inquire if we were getting the “American special.” Usually the child in question smiled knowingly back and lowered the price a bit to meet the local market standards.

Mindful of our situation, we immediately had to inform the girl that we had no money with which to purchase her wares. She quickly responded by shaking her head and saying, “My grandmother told me to bring them to you.” This got our attention. Very seldom was fruit freely sent our way. “They are free?” we asked to make sure we understood her words. She nodded and held the bananas out to be taken.

Thanking her, we accepted the gift and turned to go inside. “I need my bag!” the girl exclaimed. Oh yeah, we still weren’t use to this cultural protocol. We’d both lived in West Africa before and had worked in areas that were much more impoverished than our current jungle home in Central America. In Africa, plastic grocery bags littered the landscape and flapped furiously in low-lying tree limbs. They didn’t seem nearly as cherished as in the village. We were learning that here one didn’t dare walk off with a “shilling bag,” as they were locally referred to, if it didn’t belong to them.

After carefully unpacking the bananas, the bag was returned to the girl. She left with more of our thanks following after her. We turned to face each other, inwardly rejoicing. The Lord knew of our situation and provided through an unlikely source so that we might have peanut butter and banana sandwiches. We hardly even knew grandma! This was a huge improvement on what we had anticipated lunch being. It wasn’t a life or death matter, but it was another experience that testified to the enduring faithfulness of God.