“I Belong!”

Abandonment, beatings, divorce, pain, and hopelessness . . . Virginia has felt them all. And worse.

Virginia is a Native American woman, a fifth-generation survivor of the Squaxin People who live on a Skokomish reservation in the state of Washington, USA.

“When my mother was 12 years old, her father took her away on a trip to California. When they came back, she was pregnant, and a few months later I was born in the Native American hospital near our house. No 12-year-old knows how to raise a baby, so my grandmother took me in, raised me, and officially adopted me when I turned 5 years old. I guess that means my grandma was my mama.”

When Virginia tells the story, she bows her head and wipes away tears.

“Right after I turned 9, Grandma, my wonderful mama, told me she was going to die. When she told me that, I ran across the road, climbed the highest hill, and sat on the big rock that overlooks the valley. I don’t know where I had heard about God, but I prayed that if He was going to take my mama, I wanted Him to take me, too. I cried and cried.”

A few weeks later Grandma died. Virginia’s grandfather felt sorry for her and took her home with him. Unfortunately, Grandpa was an alcoholic and didn’t know how to care for a little girl, so Virginia got passed around from family to family, finally ending up with an aunt she didn’t know at all. Life was full of screaming, beating, and hard work. Then one very dark day the police came and took her away to a foster home, a very dark place with many other Native American children.

“We girls were on the top floor. The boys were downstairs. I didn’t know any of them at all.”

The police came back sometime after Valentine’s Day. This time the woman in charge of the house took her to a room where Grandpa and all the family were waiting. Virginia’s mother was there too. It was not a happy reunion.

One of the police officers took Virginia to another room, sat her down, and asked, “Virginia, where do you want to live?”

“That’s a terrible question to ask a 10-year-old girl! My father was an alcoholic, and I knew if I went with him, I’d be kicked around. Then I thought about my mother. She was married. She had other children. She had a house. She went to church. Maybe that could be a good thing. So I told the man that I supposed I should go with my mother.”

“I wasn’t there two weeks before she started beating me.”

Several families later Virginia was 14 and had run away more times than she could count. This time she landed with Art, a divorced man with two small daughters.

“We got married, and I had a child! I didn’t love him, but I thought maybe he would help raise my child. He was an Adventist, and we kept going to church, where, for the first time, I experienced hope.”

If Jesus is my Savior, I belong! Since He’s asked me to dedicate everything to Him, I will!

In Partnership With God

Virginia watched the church members and listened to the teachings. One teaching especially caught her heart. The pastor called it “stewardship,” but Virginia heard it as “belonging.”

“If Jesus is my Savior,” she declared, “then I belong! Since He’s asked me to dedicate everything to Him, I will!”

That commitment became the center of everything in Virginia’s life.

The family lived near a canal, and Virginia became a commercial fisherwoman. A very successful one! In fact, in the top five of all the fishers every year.

“How do you do it?” one of the buyers asked her. “You’re always the last one in from the water, and you’re always in the top five. How do you do it?”

“I’m in partnership with God,” Virginia told him. “He cares for me, and everything I have belongs to Him. Whenever I earn money, the first thing I do is return my tithe. I’m always firm in my share. Even when my husband tries to keep the money, I remind him that I am in business with God. I always make him return it.”

But there was hardly enough money to provide simple food and electricity. When she asked God how she should care for her family, His answer was clear. “We’re partners, and I will bless you.”

God gave Virginia the gift of making and selling things, and she began to feel Him enriching her with new and better ways to design, craft, and sell her Native crafts. She and her daughter walked deep into the cedar forests to harvest long strips of bark, then spent hours coloring, twisting, and creating beautiful baskets, lamps, and hats. Especially hats!

Watch closely. Now is when you see one of Virginia’s brightest smiles.

“Even Johnny Cash [a famous American singer] wanted one of my hats!”

The hats were selling for US$500 and more, but knowing she still had to find additional ways to make money, Virginia walked around town to see what else people were buying. What she saw was people buying fireworks for the holidays.

She quickly found several sources for wholesale fireworks, bought a few, sold them for obscenely high retail prices, and began planning for next year’s “loud bang.”

“I had no cash money, except for a few dollars I had saved from selling hats, but I ordered almost a full container of fireworks. Then I dragged my husband to the bank to get a loan.”

The bank manager listened politely, then asked the big question.

“What collateral do you have to guarantee you’ll repay the loan?”

Virginia reached into her large purse and pulled out a small bag of fireworks.

“See these?” she said, placing a package of 12 brightly colored bottle rockets on the manager’s desk. “These 12 rockets cost me 20 cents.”

“What do you sell them for?” The manager leaned forward, interested.

“Full retail is $3 for the package.”

Virginia, and her amazed husband, walked out of the bank with a check for $5,000 worth of fireworks.

“Whenever I sell a hat, and each year as the fireworks sell, I lay the money out and carefully count every coin. Then I put the money in stacks. First to pay the loan at the bank. Then for God’s tithe and offerings to support Native American Ministries. Then offerings for my local church. Then food and living and enough set aside to buy more fireworks for next year.”

“My life isn’t easy, but it’s not important what I’m going through. It’s important that I know where I belong, and that God is singing the anthem of His love in my heart. Since I’m living in partnership with Him, I’m especially happy to have been able to give many thousands of dollars to Native American Ministries. I’ve even helped establish a clinic to serve Native Americans in Montana!”

Friendship, love, tenderness, happiness, and hope . . . Virginia has felt them all. And better!