These Are My People

Each school year, I read through the book These Are My People in reading class with my students. This book is a biography of British missionary Gladys Aylward, who became well known for her work in China nearly a century ago. The title comes from a letter Gladys wrote home to family and friends soon after war broke out between China and Japan. Although she could perhaps have gone back to her homeland, she chose to endure the hardships of war alongside the Chinese people who had become her friends. This is what she wrote:

“Do not wish me out of this or in any way seek to get me out, for I will not be got out while this trial is on. These are my people; God has given them to me; and I will live or die with them for Him and His glory.”*

I have admired Gladys Aylward ever since I read this biography way back when I was in third grade. Her determination and her courageous missionary zeal have made her a shining role model. As an idealistic young person, I dreamed of becoming a missionary like her. I wanted to be that heroic person who would dedicate my life to serving the Lord in a foreign country, teaching people who had never heard of Jesus before. To me, that seemed like the ultimate Christian work.

Now before I say anything further, please do not hear me downplaying the value of mission work in foreign countries. I believe in that work, and I believe that God still calls some people to serve Him far from home. But He also calls many of us to serve selflessly right in our home communities. What if being deeply committed to your community, sharing your gifts with your own people, is just as heroic as being a pioneer missionary? What if everyday, unglamorous faithfulness is an integral part of building God’s kingdom?

And perhaps that is why, every single time, when we read the aforementioned quote from These Are My People in reading class, I grow reflective. Can I look at my students, my own community, and say, “These—these—are my people”? Although I am not living in a foreign country or enduring the difficulties of war, can I show the same dedication and perseverance that Gladys Aylward exemplified? Can I believe deep in my heart that my place here in my home community is every bit as important as Gladys’s work in China?

Having deep roots in a community is a privilege and opportunity that I do not take for granted. I teach in the same school where I attended as a student, and where my mother was both a student and a teacher. In my early years of teaching, I taught the younger siblings of my own former schoolmates. Now I teach the children of many former schoolmates. An older couple at church once told me that they pray for the schoolteachers every day. Their daughter was one of my teachers when I was in school. I have taught many of their grandchildren, and now their great-grandchildren are starting school. I see tremendous beauty in this.

While I recognize that communities can become ingrown and that sometimes we desperately need the perspective of outsiders to help us see our weaknesses, I think we often undervalue deep roots and interconnectedness. Sometimes I can understand things about my students because I know so many of their relatives (I remember the great-great-great grandmother of a student who was in my class last year!). I have seen first-hand how some learning difficulties tend to run in extended families. I remember the déjà vu I experienced when I first saw the atrocious handwriting of one of my students, only to realize that it looked exactly like the handwriting of a cousin of his that I had taught years before. The idiosyncrasies of a student I taught a few years ago probably would have frustrated me if it hadn’t been for the fact that I went to school with his dad for eight years. As it was, the areas of possible frustration were mostly sources of amusement to me. I know the inner workings and subtle nuances of my community culture in ways that would take an outsider many years to learn.

And so, for better or for worse, these are my people. God has given them to me, and I have cast in my lot with them. How about you? Are you serving with gratefulness and contentment right where you are? Whether you have deep roots in your community, or you are a recent transplant, I challenge you to look at your students today and to say to yourself, “These are the people God has given me, and unless or until He calls me elsewhere, I will serve right here to the best of my ability.”

*quoted in These Are My People by Mildred T. Howard