Tumuki Kauri

It seemed just like any other day to Mura as she turned over in bed and found her two sisters missing. Yet, there was a certain feeling of excitement in the air that caused everyone in the house to hurry.

Why would anyone want to rush around on such a beautiful Saturday? Mura wondered, trying to fight for those last few winks of sleep.

The warm morning breeze and crisp sunlight, along with the sound of busy people in the other room, told Mura it was time to get up.

Finally she sat up in bed and was stretching toward the ceiling when her mother came into the room. “So, you finally decided to wake up. Don’t you know we have a big day ahead of us, sleepy bones?”

Mother helped Mura put on her Sunday dress and they went into the kitchen where the rest of the family had already started eating. Porridge and Maori bread. Mmmmm! thought Mura as she quickly joined her family at the table for her favorite breakfast.

After their meal, father made a last-minute inspection of Mura’s brothers and sisters. Soon the whole family was on its way to the pa (native Maori village) where there is usually a meetinghouse, an eating house, and a sleeping house for overnight visitors.

As Mura walked along holding her mother’s hand, she looked around at the crowd. She had never seen this many people in their small village before, and they were all going to the marae (courtyard). She saw her very best friend Rangi, her cousins all the way from Tauranga, and even some pakehas (white people) she had never seen. It was very unusual for white people to attend such a meeting.

Soon Mura’s family arrived to find the marae already crowded with happy, excited people of all ages. There were far too many of them to fit into the meetinghouse, so chairs were set up on the porch of the beautifully carved building for those who were to speak at the huitau (conference). Many had brought blankets and chairs so that they could sit down when the meeting began.

Things seemed confusing to Mura as she looked around at the hundreds of moving legs, but then a smile came across her face as she spotted Rangi again through the crowd. The two met halfway and Rangi’s parents followed the pair back to Mura’s family.

The grownups stood and talked about grown-up things while Mura and Rangi played tag.

A whisper soon started rustling through the crowd. “Tumuki (president), the great Tumuki is coming, Tumuki Kauri. …” The crowd became very still as one of the elders of the tribe began chanting a welcome and Mura’s brother dressed in a traditional costume began hopping, gliding, and twirling his taiaha (spear) above his head. Slowly he approached the gate where several pakeha strangers stood.

Placing a fern branch on the ground, Mura’s brother backed away and a very distinguished-looking man picked it up to show that they were friends. The whole congregation began singing as the group walked toward the front of the meetinghouse.

After the opening song and prayer, the chief of Mura’s tribe began to speak. As he spoke, her mind began to drift to all the things she and Rangi could be doing instead of sitting in the hot sun listening to stuffy preachers, but her attention was drawn back to the speaker when she heard him say, “And now we will hear from Tumuki Matiu Kauri (President Matthew Cowley).”

With that the crowd was completely still. Not a whisper or breath could be heard from the hundreds of people as the stately man, who had picked up the fern leaf earlier, rose and began to speak in perfect Maori. If Mura had closed her eyes, she would have thought it was her grandfather speaking. Each word seemed to sink deeply into her heart as Tumuki Kauri spoke of love and peace and of Jesus’ life on earth.

For the first time in Mura’s life she knew what it was like to hear a man of God. He spoke for an hour and a half without losing one of his eager listeners.

When the meeting was over, Mura told her mother that she wanted to see President Cowley up close. Before her mother had a chance to reply, Mura disappeared through the crowd.

After working her way through the jungle of legs, Mura made it to the meetinghouse. There she saw him. As the people who were waiting to greet the great Tumuki approached, he would shake their hands, press noses in a Maori hongi, and say a few words in Maori to them. He called many of them by name.

Mura hesitated to approach the president; besides, the line was very long, so she stood back and watched him shaking hands. Then, suddenly, he left the line of people waiting to see him and started walking directly toward Mura.

With a big smile, he bent down and picked up the surprised girl. “What is your name?” he asked.

“Mura Tarawa,” she said shyly.

“Oh yes, Brother Tarawa’s little girl. I hear you are the prettiest little girl in town.”

Mura smiled and flung her arms around President Cowley’s neck. And as she hugged him, Mura felt more sure than ever that this man who had come to visit her people was truly an apostle of the Lord.