"You know, I think—" Several began to talk at once. Suddenly a gong rang, and the group scattered in all directions.
"Oh, Ann, I've been wanting to find you! A bunch of us are planning to go to Tong's for a Chinese meal. Do you want to come along?"
"Chinese meal? Dear me, I've never had one. Do you have to eat with chopsticks? Don't they serve you rats and mice and all sorts of horrible things?"
"Of course not, you silly! There are the most delicious things! And you don't have to eat with chopsticks unless you want to. In fact, they always give us knives and forks unless we especially ask for chopsticks. But I adore strange ways! This will be my third time for Chinese food. We always ask for chopsticks—it's the most fun trying to use them! Though I must admit that we usually give up halfway—the food is so delicious and we're so hungry we have to. Then you'll come?"
"Well—to tell the truth, I'm afraid it will be some awful stuff I can't eat."
"I'm surprised at you, Ann! You're a missionary candidate, aren't you? You'll have to get used to strange—"
"No, but it seems so sort of uncivilized to eat with sticks, or fingers—and all out of one dish, isn't it? Ugh!"
"Now don't be fussy! Didn't you hear that missionary talk last night? You've got to appreciate other people's ways on the mission field—can't go around thinking your ways are best!"
"I know." Ann was suddenly very serious. "But there's only one thing about it that bothers me. What if your own ways really are best?"