Made in China

Today was my last day for the summer of working at Mardel, a chain of Christian bookstores. I’ve had my share of mild adventures there, from running around for six hours in shoes that don’t agree with me, to the creepy man who called in once and said in a sing-song voice, “What if I was a spider crawling on your floor…?”

Today I saw a lady who had a bandage on her face and whose wrist was wrapped up. I stifled my customer service protocol; it didn’t seem right to ask her, “How are you doing today, ma’am?” My almost blunder made me chuckle.

And then there was the lady today who I helped find a housewarming gift for her granddaughter in Florida. She looked on the back and said, “I wonder if it’s made in America … oh good! Look, Salem, Virginia. I’m glad it’s not made in China. Nothing about the Lord should be made in China.”

She didn’t look like a anti-sweatshop activist, so it took all I had not to answer her claims of God’s abandonment of China in a hostile way. I wanted stare at her and scream, “Excuse me??? What does God have against China?!”

Instead I said, “Oh… really? What do you mean?”

“Well,” she said, “you know, there aren’t any Christians over there; they have their own gods and things. Well, maybe if they did make these they would become Christians.”

I happily enlightened her with news of the rapidly mushrooming church in China. I’m glad God hasn’t abandoned China.


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