Tuesday Voice: Missionary Kid

Beejooly and Dad


By Vic Midyett

My parents arrived in India in 1950 as missionaries. I was born on the kitchen table soon after they arrived, and my sister, Anita, was born four years later. There were no paved roads where we were—only four-wheel-drive access.
    The area is now known as Bangaladesh, but in those days it was called Assam. It had been my father's calling to go there, and he had to switch from Southern Baptist to Independent to do it. The Southern Baptists had no missionaries in India, so they couldn't support his going there. Dad worked with TB and leprosy patients. He raised his own financial support without the help of any organization.
    The following story will be included in an upcoming book about my father's life.

Because we were constantly under threat from thieves and/or religious fanatics, we needed a night watchman, and a man named Beejooly had been hired. He and Dad had an interesting relationship—with lots of laughter.
    When dad sneezed, he always ended his sneeze very loudly with a high-pitched yeehaaaa. Or something that resembled, “yeeehoperrrr”! It wasn’t long before Beejooly was copying the sound.
    Beejooly didn’t like letting us know he had arrived at his nightly post, which happened only whenever he felt like arriving. But we would know he was there, most of the time, when he would sneeze and let out a ringing yeeehaaa!
    Beejooly even came up with his own versions, and Dad would try to copy them. They were exchanging these sounds in the dark, without being able to see each other.
    Dad constantly got on Beejooly for not showing up at dusk, but it never mattered to Beejooly, who just continued to arrive whenever he wanted to, or not at all. Sometimes we wouldn’t see him for a week or more.
    Occasionally, Dad would sneak down to the area Beejooly mostly “watched”—the shed where we used to store medical and personal supplies and “Lizzy,” our Jeep truck. This area also provided the easiest route to gain access to our home.
    When Dad would find Beejooly sound asleep, he would bang some garbage can lids together and holler, scaring the begeebies out of Beejooly. Now and then Beejooly would choose a different place to sleep (guard), and when Dad would sneak down there to scare the pants off him again, Beejooly would be awake waiting to scare Dad out of his pants instead.
    It was a hilarious game they played, Dad doing his best to act all serious and mad about Beejooly's indifferent night watching.
    Mom, Anita, and I would stand as quietly as we could on the front porch, peering into the dark to see which way events would unfold. For us, it was a huge source of entertainment, regardless of which way they fell.
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Copyright © 2013 by Vic Midyett

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