Chapter 2 the harvey family
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- PUBLIC TOILETS
- DOING THE LAUNDRY
- OUR OWN WASHING MACHINE
- CHAPTER 9 - "MEINUNGSVERSCHIEDENHEITEN"
- RESOLVED DIFFERENCES
- UNRESOLVED DIFFERENCES
- A DIFFERENT APARTMENT
TWO-WAY STREETThe English language can cause Austrians the same problems as their language does for us. After someone sneaked up behind his friend, the friend responded in English by saying, "Why you sneak up on me; you want to catch me underwears?" Germans and Austrians have trouble with certain English pronunciations just as we do with their German. They pronounce a "W" like our "V" or a "TH" like a "D,“ which can change the meaning of a sentence. When an Austrian once told us in English, "I am getting the wurst,“ we understood "I'm getting divorced." An Austrian Judge and his wife were visiting in America and after staying longer than planned, the judge wanted to make a compliment. He told the host and hostess, "We had really not intended to stay this long, but the hostage in your house was really once in a lifetime." The same judge was entertaining a professor from England. After the meal, he asked the professor if he would like a “nappy.” What he meant was a short nap, but nappies are diapers in England! The present Director of the Austrian Bible Institute recently traveled to America for meetings. At the end of his visit, he and his wife came to visit us in New Jersey. When he shared the ministry of the Bible school in our church, he told the people, "Our school offers many curses. We have basic curses for lay workers and more difficult curses for ministers." An Austrian family of our acquaintance was spending a holiday in America and decided to attend a German Lutheran Church in the area where they were staying. The pastor spoke relatively good German, but his style was definitely American. Our friends shared that he greeted his parishioners by saying (in German of course), "Good morning! Today is a beautiful day; why are you all looking so sad?" So far, his question was acceptable, but what followed was not! He added, "Come on and smile! God's house is a house of prostitution!" He used the word, "Freudenhaus," which actually means "house of joy," but that is the word Germans use for a brothel! A young missionary couple that came to Austria from Canada was soon involved in a local church. The husband struggled to learn German, but his wife even knew the local dialect because she grew up in Austria before migrating to Canada with her family. The wife was expecting a baby, so conversation in a women's meeting naturally drifted to that subject. She then startled the women with her ignorance by saying, "I heard that you only need a womb to have a baby in Austria." The German word for womb is "Gebärmutter" which contains two words meaning "bear" and "mother." She thought it was the word for a midwife. A German businessman, who was visiting America, was asked about his occupation. He replied, "I am a undertaker and specialize in export and import." The German word for a large business is "Unternehmen," which, translated literally, is "undertaker." PUBLIC TOILETSOnce, while visiting the Vienna zoo, our 2-year-old son, Ralph Jr., said that he had to go to the "potty." I soon found a toilet, but a watchman at the door asked for money. I argued that we had paid admission to the zoo, and besides, a 2-year-old should not have to pay. The man was resolute and forbade entrance. Junior was already dancing and holding his pants so I did what most Austrians would have done in the first place. I looked for the nearest grass to water. The watchman said nothing but just walked back inside and sat down at his table. European men think nothing of unzipping their fly and watering the grass or ground wherever they might happen to be. You see them doing this in city parks as well as along highways. The law now forbids Austrian restaurants to charge admission to toilets. That is not the case in formerly Eastern Europe, however. The "Klofrau" or toilet woman collects money and hands a single sheet of toilet paper to each customer. If you want more paper, you pay for it. On a visit to Podabrady, Czech Republic, a woman charged me five Czech Crowns for two squares of toilet paper and then issued a signed, stamped and dated receipt! Sometimes there is an open door between the men's and women's toilets, where the Klofrau collects her money and deals out paper. Europeans don’t seem to have a problem with such transparency. I have wondered why they don't just combine the two rooms into one. The American style bathroom is not a clever invention. As a rule, there are three or four fixtures in American bathrooms. Each bathroom has a washstand, toilet, tub and perhaps a shower. No one I know has mastered the art of using more than one of these fixtures at a time. Furthermore, the bathroom is seldom occupied by more than one person, even when there is a double washbasin. Normal usage of a toilet is accompanied by unpleasant smells that hardly enhances the brushing of teeth. Americans install multiple bathrooms to assure that no one has to wait in the hallway while another person enjoys a bath. Most Austrian homes have both bathrooms and toilet rooms. When visitors from America asked where our bathroom was, I graciously told them. They always came back with a quizzical look on their face. If they were starting to dance, I quickly explained that the toilet was behind the next door. The design of toilets is another matter. Visitors from North America often complained about the shape of European toilets. These often have a wide plateau in the center of the bowl, containing a shallow puddle of water if it hasn't evaporated since the last time it was flushed. Deposits wait patiently here until the user flushes it down the drain. This is accomplished by pressing a lever, pushing a button or pulling on a chain. Small children tend to forget this, however. And they also leave doors ajar. By the time Mommy or Daddy discover their negligence, the entire house smells of the toilet's contents. If the family doctor has ever asked you to provide a sample of your stool, this kind of toilet definitely has its' advantages. Our children actually preferred the European toilets to the American variety. They complained about getting a free bottom wash when using American toilets. There are toilets that provide a warm shower when finished, but these have not really caught on with the general public. Someday an enterprising young person will invent the ideal toilet and become a billionaire. By this time, you have deducted that modesty is not a European trait. There are beaches where people wear nothing at all, but children under school age seldom wear swimsuits at the beach and not a few women go topless. Even "family magazines" show a lot of flesh in order to boost sales. Europeans consider Americans to be prude and pride themselves as being emancipated from such restraints. Before I wrap up this section, I should mention a very interesting museum located in Gmunden, Austria. It is reportedly the world's only “Toilet Museum” with hundreds of very old, famous or unique toilets on display. I posted photos on my website www.rvharvey.com/toilets.htm. SHOPPINGPurchasing the basic necessities of life when you don't understand or speak the language can be exasperating. In the early sixties there were no supermarkets in Austria, and we had to ask the clerk for whatever we wanted. Verna made her shopping list, translating everything into German before going to the store. She once asked for "Faschiertes" (hamburger), but they gave her "Pfirsiche" (peaches). Because few families had refrigerators to keep food fresh, women went shopping six days a week. Even today, most refrigerators are considerably smaller that American models. Women made their rounds to the bakery, dairy store, butcher shop, vegetable market and dry goods store. Most shops were open by six o'clock and closed for a couple of hours at noon. In each store, one had to get in line to be served, but Viennese women are quite adept at elbowing their way to the front. In a way, you could sympathize with the poor women, who had to go through this procedure a half dozen times every morning. Verna found it much less of a hassle to go shopping after nine o'clock, when there were few customers to "give her the elbow." A friend told Verna that the morning rush is created because women hope to beat the rush! They must shop early because their husbands have to leave for work by 7:00 and insist on fresh rolls for breakfast. Then she said, "Women who shop after 8:00 am are considered lazy." Verna usually took our baby along on her daily shopping trips. Once, a woman saw our son sleeping peacefully in his coach and began babbling something in Viennese dialect. She was noticeably upset about something in the buggy. When Verna didn't react, she reached down, grabbed the baby, and turned him over. He had been sleeping on his tummy! After "saving our baby's life," she turned her back on the now screaming baby and his dumbfounded mother to continue her shopping mumbling something about "these Americans." DOING THE LAUNDRYBefore we left for Austria, we were asked what kind of things we needed which were not available in Austria. Having never been to Europe, it wasn't easy to give an intelligent answer to this question. Someone had told us that European soap powder was of poor quality and didn't produce suds. Verna said that she really liked "Tide" soap for washing her clothes, so ladies gave us ten giant size boxes of the soap powder. It was high Tide! Once we were settled in Vienna, we discovered that the newest innovation in the city was a public Laundromat. We had little money for a washing machine and no place to put it anyway, so we used the Laundromat. Actually, I was the one who did the washing since Verna had a six-month-old baby to care for. There are probably jobs that only men do in Austria, but none comes to my mind just now. But there are many jobs that only women do. Only the woman polishes shoes, washes dishes, tends the baby, cleans, cooks and does the laundry. Austrian women have not only accepted this, but actually insist that the men are not capable of such tasks. In recent years, we have begun to see men pushing a baby buggy or doing grocery shopping, but the above is still the general rule. On my first visit to the Laundromat, a dozen Viennese women stared with disbelief to see a man enter their domain. Their babbling ceased and all eyes turned in my direction as I unloaded a pillowcase of dirty clothes into one of the automatic washers. Not desirous of lugging a giant size box of "Tide" to the Laundromat, I had poured some into a plastic bag. Verna instructed me to use half a cup of Tide, so I carefully measured the soap and dumped it into the machine. After closing the door I started to put my coin in the slot when a generously proportioned Viennese woman suddenly sprang into action! She rattled something off in Viennese dialect. When I tried to ignore her, several other women came over babbling words that were obviously intended for me. I simply smiled and spoke about the only German I had learned, "Ich spreche nicht Deutsch" ("I speak no German"). The larger woman began to use gestures that were easier to understand. She was trying to tell me that I should put more soap into the machine. I attempted in a similar fashion to explain that this soap was different, but she either could not or would not understand. Realizing that she could never expect a man to do anything right in a Laundromat, the woman took the matter into her own hands. Ignoring my protests, she snatched the bag of soap powder from my hand and dumped two more cups into the automat. With a triumphant look on her face and nods of approval from the others, she even pushed the start button for me. Within minutes, the "Tide" came in. And it soon went out - in big foamy waves! The caretaker, also a woman, ran over screaming at me and pointing a finger at the automat which was by now foaming from every crack and crevice! There was nothing that I could do or say to calm her down. Finally, I pointed to the women, the automat and my bag of soap. She must have understood, because she immediately directed a stream of expletives in their direction. Although meaningless to me, she got the desired response from the women. They were soon wiping up the foam as fast as it escaped from the machine. I was able to calm the women some by offering them some of my magic American soap powder. Our clothes were never so clean as they were that day. On my next visit to the Laundromat, I delighted the caretaker by giving her half a box of Tide! OUR OWN WASHING MACHINENot long after that incident, a single missionary asked if we needed a washing machine. She had an old wringer type washer that she was giving away. It served us well for four years after which the wringers disintegrated. I salvaged the electric motor before junking it. Six years later, we imported an offset press from America that had a 110 volt motor. Austria has 220 volts, so I used the washing machine motor to operate it. I probably printed a million pieces of Christian literature with that washing machine motor! Our second washer was a "top loader" that we bought from missionaries who were leaving Austria. They had purchased it from an American serviceman who claimed that the washing machine was already third handed when he bought it! That washer served us without a problem for twenty years! A pulley wore out in 1981 and the repairman said that it was unlikely, that parts for the ancient washer were still available. He called the manufacturer in Germany and a representative said that there were two pulleys in stock! The same pulley broke again in 1987. We called the company in Germany and bought the last pulley! A year later, another missionary couple left Austria and offered to sell us their German "Miele" washer/dryer combination. Miele was considered a "top of the line" brand and the washer/dryer set cost over $2,000 new. Thinking that our old washer could not last much longer, we bought the set for $300. Shortly thereafter, the Miele motor burned out and cost $600 to replace! JOB OFFERBefore departing for Austria, I bought a neat new toy that had become popular in America. It was called a Frisbee. After arriving in Austria, I took my Frisbee to a Sunday School picnic and everyone wanted one. Frisbees were not yet available in Europe, so I wrote to the Wham-O Corporation in California, asking if I could order a large carton of Frisbees. Wham-O's Director of Marketing responded by saying that the company wanted to expand into Europe and was looking for someone with a good knowledge of English to set up a distributorship for all Europe. Local franchises would then be formed in countries with a potential market for Frisbees, Hula Hoops and other Wham-O products. If I was interested in this position, they would give me the appropriate training and assistance. Needless to say, I turned down the offer. I never got any Frisbees either. AUNT MARYMary Vicinus was not related to the Harveys, but we considered her a member of the family. Mary served many years as a single missionary in Columbia, South America and lived with us during furloughs. Mary died of cancer in 1965 and I cried when I heard of her death. I inherited several boxes of papers and photo albums that belonged to Mary. "No one seems to know what to do with these things," my older sister told me. "Do you have any ideas?" Among her papers, I found a church bulletin which I cherish. The bulletin mentions a young boy who publicly dedicated his life to missions after her challenge. In my Mother's handwriting was the word, "Ralph.“ There was also a telegram in Mary’s box of pictures. It was the birth announcement of one of my sisters who was named after Mary. She died soon afterwards of a birth defect. As I sorted through the photo albums, it occurred to me that nearly all the photos were of people rather than places, things or occasions. There were pictures of South Americans and American supporters, whose lives were somehow touched or changed through her ministry and godly life. The few pictures that were not of people, were photos of the church she served in Bogotá, Columbia. It had been vandalized and Spanish graffiti was written all over the walls. Another photo showed Mary standing next to her bullet riddled Jeep. In many of the homes we visit today, people show us their photo albums. There are pictures of vacation trips, cars, boats, homes and family. Mary had few relatives and few worldly possessions, but she was rich beyond measure! Because Aunt Mary had no living relatives, she named my father as executor in her will. All her worldly possessions were located in Columbia, South America, so Pop contacted the mission and asked them to distribute these as they saw fit. The following year, he received notice from the Internal Revenue Department asking why he had not claimed income from the inheritance. He explained to the IRS but they insisted on documentation, so he asked the mission to verify the fact. The mission replied that they could not give a receipt for the items because they were not from him. I recall many calls and letters going back and forth, but don't know how it ended. Pop just kept repeating, "I hope I never get another inheritance!" Index CHAPTER 9 - "MEINUNGSVERSCHIEDENHEITEN"Not long after our arrival on the field, it became evident that there were serious differences between our fellow-missionaries and the mission board. The German language calls these Meinungsverschiedenheiten.This was difficult for us to understand; we had enjoyed a good relationship with the leaders of the mission and held them in high esteem. On the other hand, we also had high opinions of the missionaries on the field. We felt certain that these differences would soon be resolved. This was not to be, however. At first, fellow missionaries spoke little with us about problems, but news filtered through that many were planning to resign from the mission. At this point, we began to ask questions. All the workers spoke very highly of the General Secretary. He was an excellent Bible teacher, but had few organizational skills. We wrote to him, saying that we had heard rumors of missionaries resigning from the mission and asked for clarification. We felt certain that there was an explanation. The General Secretary wrote that he would soon visit us in Vienna. Following his visit, there would be a conference in France, which all European missionaries would be attending. We felt assured that the air would be cleared and wrongs corrected, but the visit of the board members and the conference in France failed to resolve differences. Apparently, the wounds were too deep and the problems too long ignored. About thirty missionaries handed in their resignations, and those of us who remained, begged the Home Board to take corrective steps in order to save the mission. The only response was a biblical lecture on the missionary's "God-ordained responsibility towards authority." We wrote to the pastors of our supporting churches, asking for prayer regarding "problems between missionaries and the home board." That was a mistake. We soon learned that there are situations in which we may desperately be in need of prayer, but should keep the matter between ourselves and the Lord. In some of the most difficult times, we were not able to share freely with supporters. We learned that we must always speak the truth, but we didn't need to share all the truth. The church members were not asked to pray, but the pastors called the mission, asking for an explanation. The home board presented their side of the dispute but understandably made no mention of matters which were of concern to the missionaries. These pastors then wrote us, encouraging us to stay faithful to the Lord and the mission. They warned us of being influenced by unspiritual senior missionaries and reminded us that we would lose support if we too resigned. It was an extremely difficult decision for us to make, but we too finally resigned. We had been in Austria just six months, and now we were without a mission affiliation. We also faced the probability of losing much of our support. We informed supporters of our decision, but said that we did not wish to discuss the reasons for our resignation. We said that we would fully understand and have no ill feelings, if any of our supporters felt that they must drop our support, but hoped that they could continue until our furlough. Although several said that we were wrong to resign, all continued their support. Soon after this, the mission was dissolved. Following a year of investigation and much prayer, we and 27 other European missionaries joined Gospel Missionary Union in June of 1966. We began our ministry in Ampflwang and by the time we flew to America for our furlough in February, 1968, mission troubles were no longer an issue. Not a single one of our supporters brought up the matter and we never needed to mention it. RESOLVED DIFFERENCESWhile still in language study, we helped with summer camps, the "Church on Wheels," a telephone ministry and in the Baptist Sunday School. We also conducted children's' classes among Gypsies in Essling, a suburb of Vienna. Another task that fell into my lap was helping with renovations of a building in Maria Ansbach in preparation for the opening of a Bible School. The latter project was to have special significance for us. Having experience in construction work, I volunteered to lay tile floors and build kitchen cabinets. I was also asked to make a concrete sidewalk. The cement mixer was powered by a small Briggs & Stratton engine. The spark plug kept fouling, so I borrowed one sparkplug after another from the VW of a fellow-missionary, a single lady. We managed to get the sidewalk poured, but when it was time to leave, we had to push the VW to get it started. I confessed what I had done and after a few kilometers, the plugs were firing just fine. She didn't seem too upset, but another missionary riding with us gave me a lecture on treating other people's property with respect. This led to an open discussion on just what constituted private property. I explained that some of the workers were staying in our home while helping with renovations. We never expected them to pay for room and board. Although the Bible Institute was not our personal project, I had purchased tools and even materials for carrying out the work. Besides, did not everything we own belong to the Lord? Was not all the money we received given for missions? The senior missionary who had reprimanded me admitted that this was true. I also admitted that it would have been proper to ask before borrowing the sparkplugs. It was a healthy and largely unemotional discussion for us, which served to bring us together, rather than drive us apart. Most of us were still in Austria serving the Lord together 30 years later. What a difference it might have made, if the dissenting parties in the above described mission dispute, had been willing to resolve their differences in a similar manner! UNRESOLVED DIFFERENCESA medical doctor lived next door to the Bible School in Maria Ansbach. As a staunch Catholic, he was not at all happy about having a protestant school next door and he let us know in no uncertain terms at every opportunity. We continued the preparation work and tried to befriend the man and his wife, but they continued to complain about noise, dust and other mostly trivial issues. Only two students signed up for the first school year. Classes progressed as planned and several pastors and missionaries alternately came to teach two students. The closing exercises of the first school year were held June 19th, 1966. Some forty Christians from Vienna and other parts of Austria converged upon Maria Ansbach for the occasion. The Doctor next door complained about all the cars and people. When the service was about to begin, he went into his house and returned with a chair, a radio and extension cord. He set the chair as near to the open window of our assembly hall as possible. After tuning in a local rock'n roll station, the Doctor turned up the volume until the speakers were vibrating. We closed the windows and prayed. Within two or three minutes, the radio apparently blew a tube and went silent. Our relief was short-lived, however. Not easily defeated, the Doctor's wife brought the power lawnmower and placed it next to the fence. The Doctor gave a tug on the starter cord and the engine sprang to life. He then turned the gas all the way up and walked back into the house. The crowded room was stifling hot and it was nearly impossible to hear even with the windows closed. A Baptist pastor, Martin Giglseder, led in the opening prayer. He prayed, "Lord you love the man who lives next door, and we want to show him your love. We just pray that both we and he may live peaceably with one another." Seconds after his "Amen," the lawn mower motor sputtered and died. The Doctor tried repeatedly to re-start it, but the engine refused to cooperate. The remainder of our service was undisturbed. The same neighbor "accidentally" spilled a bag of potent fertilizer next to the well two years in a row. He hired workers to construct an ugly ten foot cement block wall between his house and the Bible School. Apparently, someone started using the wall as a sort of backboard for ball games, for the Doctor sneaked onto the Bible School property when no one was there, and painted a sign on the wall. In large letters, it read, "Don't throw objects against this wall!" Unfortunately, the school project failed to attract enough students to keep it operating. After two years, the school was closed. I often wonder if that wall is still standing! And I have asked myself if better communications with the neighbor might have prevented some of the difficulty we encountered. Without my realizing it, experiences like these were preparing me for future ministry. A DIFFERENT APARTMENTWe had at first looked upon our apartment as a wonderful answer to prayer, and it really was. But the many inconveniences were beginning to take their toll on us, Verna especially. The kitchen was small and had only a two-burner hotplate. There was running water only in the night. We were constantly getting smoked out of the apartment because the coal stove had a poor draft. We shared the only bathroom with the landlady and several Italian students. Worst of all, there were no locks on our doors and the landlady refused to allow me to install them. Verna could hardly sleep nights after drunk students stumbled into our bedroom in the wee hours of the morning, looking for the toilet. This happened more than once! We often considered looking for another apartment, but kept telling ourselves that we could tolerate the place a little longer. We only needed it for our period of language study. One factor began to play into our considerations more and more. By March, 1966, Verna was six months pregnant! After much praying about the situation, we decided to look for an apartment that would offer more privacy. We didn't know how or when to inform our landlady, however. The rental contract required both parties to serve three months notice. If we waited until we found a place before serving notice, we would have to pay rent on two apartments for three months. There was no way we could afford that. If we served notice right away and found nothing within three months, we would be without a place to live. The baby was due in exactly three months! After much prayer, we decided to serve notice right away and trust the Lord to provide. But before we could act, the Lord took care of the matter in His way. Our landlady decided to rent our rooms to a business and told us that we would have to look for another place to live! Hunting for houses and apartments has always been a major problem in Austria. Most Austrians own their own homes, or they have low-cost housing provided by an employer or the government. The few places available for rent are often very pricey or have a serious drawback. We moved a dozen times in nearly four decades, and each move involved a miracle, a nightmare or both! Vienna is the most difficult place to find affordable housing. For almost two months, we checked with real estate agencies, scoured newspapers and asked others to help us find a reasonable apartment. It seemed that nothing affordable was available in that city of 1.6 million people. We eventually discovered two apartments for rent - simultaneously! One cost $100 per month, or $30 more than we had been paying. The other apartment was damp, in need of repairs, and on the outermost fringe of Vienna. In fact, it seemed worse than our present apartment, but the rent was the same as we had been paying. A hundred Dollars doesn’t seem like much today, but in 1965, it was nearly half our salary and didn’t even include utilities. By this time, Verna was 8 months pregnant and time was running out. Realizing that neither place would remain available for long, we prayed and told the Lord that we would be willing to rent either place. We could trust him for the extra money to pay for the nicer apartment or we would trust him for grace to live in the other place. We only needed his direction. That evening, I took the tramway to a missionary prayer meeting on the other side of Vienna. We shared requests for various ministries and needs. I told the other missionaries of our own urgent need for wisdom before we kneeled in prayer. Those missionary prayer meetings were such a blessing and encouragement to us in the early days of our Austrian sojourn. Once, a missionary handed me money after the prayer meeting and said, “Buy yourself some new shoes.” I must have looked puzzled, for he went on to explain, “When we were kneeling to pray, I noticed a baby-food ad in the sole of your shoe. The Lord was showing me that you needed this money.” My shoe sole was worn completely through, and I used a piece of cardboard I found in the trash to make a temporary repair! It was late when the prayer meeting let out and I headed back to our apartment. Newspaper vendors were hawking the next day's newspaper at the tram stop, so I bought one. Out of habit, I turned immediately to the real estate ads and looked under the “For Rent” category. One of the first ads was for an apartment that cost only $80 per month! I could hardly wait to show Verna. Early the next morning, we took a tram to the real estate office. An agent ushered us inside and invited us to be seated. He was very apologetic in describing the apartment. He said that it was a mess and in need of repairs, but we could look at it if we were interested. A glance around the real estate office caused us to wonder -- furniture was old and plaster was falling off the walls. If the agency looked that bad, what might the apartment be like? We said we wanted to look at it. After locking his office, the agent invited us to climb into the back seat of his aging Opel and we were soon rattling down cobblestone streets to another part of town. We pulled up in front of a rather modern apartment house and went inside. Before opening the apartment door, he warned us again, not to be shocked by what we saw. We walked inside and looked around. It was dirty; there were a few broken window panes, and cotton padding was spilling out of an old sofa, but the apartment itself was lovely! It was larger and nicer than any we had seen and almost completely furnished! We stood speechless with tears welling up in our eyes. The agent broke the silence by saying, "I warned you about this, but perhaps we can talk the owner into coming down on the price." After a short phone call, the owner agreed to drop the rent $10 per month. That was the same as what we’d been paying for the other apartment! We returned to the realty office and signed the contract. The agent’s telephone wouldn't stop ringing; it seemed that everyone in Vienna wanted that apartment! We only lived there for a year before beginning our first ministry assignment in Upper Austria, but the location could not have been better. Every form of public transportation was nearby and we were only a 15-minute walk from the famous Schoenbrunn Castle, Park and Zoo. Best of all, there was an open air market place one block away, where we could buy fresh produce five days a week! Incidentally, our 18-month-old son was with us when we looked at the apartment. He saw a crucifix hanging on the wall and looked puzzled. Then he asked, "Who is that man?" We explained that the man was Jesus. Ralph Jr. was delighted to learn this and exclaimed, "Oh, Jesus on an airplane!" Directory: documents documents -> Concept stage documents -> Concept stage documents -> The great global switch-off documents -> Nonprofit grant application documents -> The Truth about the Rwandan Genocide documents -> Annual InStructional unit plan documents -> Chaos equipment included Download 2.2 Mb. Share with your friends:
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