Chapter 9
The Right to Live With the People of My Choice
The six months of language school were almost over. Exams had been the order of the day. In spite of the fact that the results of their labors were not yet known, half a dozen young women gathered in the dormitory to celebrate with a cocoa party. Some were sprawled on the beds, one was seated on the floor, and another two were presiding over the concoction simmering on a tiny, smoky kerosene stove.
"You know, I couldn't sleep a wink last night!" declared one. "I was thinking about Mr. Gibb[6] coming to appoint us to stations, and wondering what my senior worker will be like, and I got so worried I stayed awake all night!"
"You know the Lord is working it all out! We've been praying about it for so long! You shouldn't worry about it!" reproved another gently.
"Well, I tried, but the more I tried, the wider awake I got."
"You are foolish!" put in another. "Mr. Gibb isn't even coming until tomorrow, and then who knows how soon you will have your interview with him. It will take him several days they say, and your name begins with T."
"It's all right for you to talk!" retorted the first girl. "You have a sister out here, and you're taking it for granted that you'll be sent to her. Of course you're all right! But what about the rest of us who have to be separated, and sent off to live with entire strangers? How do I know whether my senior worker will like me or not?"
"You don't need to worry," put in the quiet voice of a girl who had not spoken before. "You are gay and lively, and everybody likes you. I'm quiet and awkward, and never know what to say. I'm sure my senior worker will be disappointed when she gets me!"