Beijing Trading Company

A huge banner with Chairman Mao's portrait hangs over the entrance to Beijing Trading Company in downtown Zomba. Typically, the store is staffed by two or three Chinese clerks at the register and at least one Malawi national on each aisle. The Malawian employees’ job is to check prices, find merchandise, and to keep an eye out for shoplifters. If you arrive in the store around noon, each one will be eating a bowl of rice. They trail us so closely as we move through the store that their presence often feels invasive and uncomfortable.    Chinese rock music is usually emanating from large speakers on the back wall of the store.

There are several such Chinese stores in Zomba, with basically the same merchandise, and the cashiers rotate among them. We always smile as we stand in line, looking for a way to relate and to build some bridge for a relationship, but until today, we have never seen even a tiny opportunity to do so.

We found the clothes pins we were looking for, moved to the front, and stood second in line behind a group of four chatting ladies, each of which was buying a large bagful of colorful blankets. It was then that I recognized the young lady behind the counter as the expectant mother I had seen in this store on other occasions and walking along the street in Zomba a few days before. George and I always smile and   say, “Thank you” and “Have a good day” as we take our change and exit, but in Beijing Trading Company, there has been almost no response.

But today was different.  As we waited in line, my eyes wandered over the items on the wall by the cash register, clustered along the counter and in the cell phone and jewelry  displays.    Then, nestled in a blanket, my eyes landed on the beautiful, cherubic face of a newborn girl, sleeping peacefully  on a shelf near the cell phones.  

When the mother heard us admiring her little one, she came toward us smiling broadly. “Your baby is so beautiful!”  I told her. “Thank you,” she responded. Then she took out her cell phone to show us pictures of her handsomely dressed son, probably about 4 years of age. “They are very beautiful children,” I told her again. She was obviously very proud of her family and enjoyed sharing it with us.

I know it is a small thing, but in building relationships, sometimes it is the little things that count.  May God use it to open more opportunities to share His love.