by Beverly Bach

Tekley dashed into his house, dropping his schoolbooks on the table. He grabbed his lunch — two short sticks of sugar cane — before rushing out the door.

He couldn’t be late. School fees were due in two days. Tekley had been carefully saving his tips for months, but he still needed four Birr — $3.50 in American money.

His bare feet kicked up dust as he ran down the steep street into the town of Lalibela. He was proud to live here, high in the rugged mountains of Ethiopia. He knew it was an important place, because ferengi (tourists) came from all over to see the cathedrals. As he scurried down the path, Tekley could see the tops of four of the 11 cathedrals. The structures carved deep into the volcanic rock were the only ones like them in the world.

Shoe Shine

Tekley raced across the bridge over the Jordan River, which flowed through the middle of town. He looked down on the enormous cross-shaped roof of St. George Cathedral — his cathedral. Every day he worked as a shoe keeper at St. George. Although it wasn’t the biggest cathedral, it was by far the most beautiful. Tekley rushed down the narrow stairs that were carved into a wall of rust-colored stone facing the cathedral. He dashed around to the front door where he spotted Nahmen, the oldest shoe keeper. The white-haired man sat in the sun on a stone ledge.

“Mr. Nahmen,” Tekley greeted, “I thought I might be here first today.”

“Ah, yes,” Nahmen smiled. “Well, it takes me awhile to get here, so I start early. These old eyes are growing dim; I have to feel my way with my stick. And the legs don’t move as fast as they used to.”

Tekley felt sorry for the old man and wondered how much longer he would be a shoe keeper. Tekley knew Mr. Nahmen’s son had died, leaving four grandchildren to care for. The old man needed this job to provide for his family.

Tekley peered inside the cathedral and breathed in the sweet aroma of burning incense. When his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he saw the priest standing tall behind the low altar, where several candles glowed in the darkness. A bright blue cape draped his long, white robe, and a loosely wound white turban covered his head. In one hand he held a staff topped with a large bronze cross, and in the other he gripped a worn Bible. Tekley knew the book was copied by hand in the squiggle characters of the ancient Ge’ez language.

In the dim light, Tekley could make out huge columns and walls covered with brightly painted scenes from the Bible — including his favorite of Jesus talking with the children.

He turned from the cathedral and joined Nahmen on the stone ledge. They watched as the first group of tourists slowly made their way down the narrow steps. Tekley smiled when he saw the large group. As the youngest shoe keeper, he would be last in line to keep a tourist’s shoes.

Misstep

“We ask you to remove your shoes while in the cathedral,” the guide said as the crowd approached. “Your shoes will be safe. When you get to the other side, one of the shoe keepers will have them waiting for you.”

The tourists slipped off their shoes. Tekley took a pair of shoes belonging to a tall man with a very pale face and reddish-brown hair. The shoes were new and looked expensive.

As the crowd prepared to enter the cathedral, a boy about Tekley’s age, turned to him. “Do you speak English?” he asked.

“Yes, a little,” Tekley answered. “We learn in school.”

Tekley set down the shoes. It wasn’t polite to hold shoes while talking to a ferengi.

“These cathedrals — why were they carved down in the rock like this?” the boy asked.

“Your guide will tell you more about the buildings,” Tekley said. “More than 800 years ago, Christians were being attacked all across North Africa. The churches were built into the rock, so they could not be seen by the enemy.”

The boy glanced toward the cathedral.

“I’d better hurry,” he said. “My parents will wonder where I am.” He followed the last of the tourists as they disappeared inside.

Tekley stooped down and picked up the shoes. He stared at the pair in his hands. Black with laces.

These aren’t the right shoes, he thought. Mine were brown. He looked around frantically. All the other shoes and shoe keepers were already gone.< P> One of the other shoe keepers must have taken my shoes by accident, Tekley thought. Tekley knew such a mistake could cost him his job.

“Jesus,” he prayed, “I need Your help. I must find the right shoes. Please, please help me.”

Tekley needed this job to pay for school. It had been difficult to become a shoe keeper. He had worked hard to be on time every day, and he never keep a tourist waiting. He couldn’t fail now. He had to find the right shoes before his tourist came out of the exit door.

Soul Search

Tekley darted along the narrow passage between the high walls of the cathedral and the rock face. He knew the path well and could almost run it with his eyes closed.

As Tekley rounded the corner, some tourists were already making their way up the narrow stairs. Others were putting on their shoes. Tekley frantically looked from one pair of shoes to the next. None of them were “his” shoes.

Tekley’s eyes fell on Nahmen, sitting by the door. In his hands Nahmen held brown shoes — his brown shoes. Tekley hurried over to him.

“Excuse me, Mr. Nahmen,” Tekley said. “Somehow our shoes have gotten switched. My ferengi had brown shoes, and these are black.”

Nahmen looked down at the shoes, trying hard to focus. He handed the shoes to Tekley just as the owner stepped into the bright sunlight.

“Here are your shoes, Sir,” Tekley said, handing them to the man. Before he could back away, the man placed a pile of coins in his hand. Tekley could not believe his eyes. Four birr!

“Ame ssagga nalehugn!” Tekley said excitedly in Amharic. Quickly he changed to English, “Thank you very much, Sir.”

He looked down at the coins. It was exactly the amount he needed to cover his school fees next term. Jesus, thank You for answering my prayer!

Perfect Pair

Tekley turned to old Nahmen. The man leaned on his walking stick, struggling to get up. Tekley helped him. Together they walked back to the cathedral entrance.

Tekley held out his coins.

“Look at the tip my ferengi gave me. It’s the biggest I’ve ever gotten! Now I have enough to pay my school fees.” He paused and said, “What did your ferengi give you?”

Nahmen reached into his pocket and pulled out a single birr.

Tekley felt bad for asking. The two walked in silence.

I wish I could help Mr. Nahmen, he thought. Suddenly Tekley had an idea.

“Mr. Nahmen,” he said, “when the next ferengi come, why don’t we work together? I have sharp eyes. I can help you.”

Old Nahmen smiled. He touched Tekley on the shoulder.

“That’s a fine idea,” he said. “I can show you everything I’ve learned about being a good shoe keeper. We’ll use your eyes and my knowledge.”

That evening as he headed for home, Tekley felt warm. Thank You, Jesus, he prayed, for helping me find the right shoes and providing for school. And thank You for a friend like Mr. Nahmen.

Stone Wonders

In the late 1100s, Ethiopia’s King Lalibela ordered stone cathedrals to be carved into volcanic rock where they would not be seen from a distance. The 11 cathedrals are monolithic, which means they are carved out of a single block of stone.

Narrow passages below the city connect the cathedrals. Some are square or rectangular; others are shaped like crosses. Their windows are open holes, carved in the beautiful patterns of leaves and crosses. Four cathedrals have a courtyard all the way around them, including the tallest, St. George, which towers over 40 feet high. Inside the cathedrals, tall pillars of stone rise to the ceiling, and decorative scrolls, crosses and flowers are carved into the stone.

On special occasions such as Genna (Christmas) and Timket (Easter), thousands of people come from near and far to worship.

	Q: Why did the dog lay on its back with its feet sticking in the air? A: It was trying to trip birds. Amy S., 11, Illinois Clubhouse Jr. Click here to subscribe