Moments later he became very agitated. He thought we had captured his soul in that little box. His warriors gathered around with their tiny bows and poison arrows.
I had picked up some little bars of perfumed soap at the Nairobi, Kenya hotel a few nights before. I offered them to him as a peace gift.
He debated a bit and then took them and the crowd left.
Phew!
Later I mused about this chief "selling his soul" for some pretty smelling soap. Pretty cheap.
Both a sermon and a personal reminder about selling our souls.
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