“When we had left in 1965, there were 72 congregations of Tzeltal believers. Now, in 1985, there were 322. When we had left, there were over 6000 believers. Now there were some 44,000 on the church rolls, including children. … Where once we had faced nothing but heartbreak and disappointment, now we saw one-fourth of the Tzeltals as true believers. … Both Florence and I would willingly relive all those years we spent among them. We cannot. We must be content that we planted “the Good Seed.” Others who came after us watered it, but God gave the increase.”[8]

Marianna Slocum was excited about her upcoming wedding to Bill Bentley, a missionary she had met two years earlier. The big date was only six days away. They had just returned to her home after Bill’s speaking engagement in New Jersey and an enjoyable sight-seeing in New York.

Romance

They had first met at Camp Wycliffe – now known as Summer Institute of Linguistics (SIL) International – near Sulphur Springs, Arkansas, where they both studied in preparation for service as missionary Bible translators. Bill had already begun work among the Mexican Tzeltals in Bachajon, in the State of Chapas, and returned there after his training. Naturally friendly, he had become popular among the locals for his prowess on the accordion and his lovely singing voice.

Marianna accepted an assignment as a missionary to the Chols, about seven hours by foot from Bachajon. The Chol and Tzeltal languages are both in the Mayan family.

Bill visited Marianna’s station frequently, always by foot because he didn’t want to assume a higher position than the natives by using a car. She fell in love with him although he didn’t show any particular interest in her. “Everything about him attracted me,” she said: “his manly good looks, his lovely tenor singing voice, but most captivating of all was his complete dedication to the work of the Lord.”[1]

He made it clear that he was not interested in romance for its own sake. On January 6, 1941, however, he sent Marianna a letter stating that he was sure she was God’s choice for him. On Valentine’s Day of the same year, he brought a heart-shaped cookie for Marianna and officially proposed to her. They planned to marry on August 30 at her family home in Philadelphia.

That month, they spent a month at Camp Wycliffe, visited Bill’s parents, attended a week-long conference at Keswick, N.J. where he was asked to speak, took a short sight-seeing trip to New York City, then returned to Marianna’s home to prepare for the wedding.

Heartbreak and Rejection

On Sunday morning, however, Bill did not come down to breakfast. When Marianna’s father went to call him, Bill was dead, probably due to a heart attack.

In spite of her shock, Marianna spoke on the phone with William Cameron Townsend, the head of the mission, asking if she could return to the Tzeltals and finish the work Bill had begun. Townsend agreed.

Marianna spent the next few days in a daze. “I walked in a cloud of numb incomprehension, doing all the things I had to do, allowing my family to make what plans seemed best. All the joy in the future had disintegrated,” she said. “In blind faith, I struggled through the dark days and nights, an ache which I could not describe. Night and day, it throbbed. But still, I remembered He called me, and He was with me.”[2]

Following Bill’s funeral in his church in Topeka, Kansas, Marianna went to Camp Wycliffe and then to Mexico, hoping to continue Bill’s work in Bachajon. The locals’ reception, however, was not welcoming, as someone had been spreading rumors about the Protestants. (or evangelicos, as the missionaries preferred to be called).

“’They will steal your land,’ they had warned. ‘They will poison the minds of your children. They will make you lose the old ways;’”[3] Marianna recounted.

This type of lies were common at that time. They were usually fueled by Roman Catholic authorities who saw Protestants as false teachers. Besides, Protestants, being mostly American, were often depicted as propagators of western culture aiming at political domination of South America. What’s worse, these rumors often escalated into all-out persecution.

She understood their reaction. “The Bachajon Indians had good cause to fear outsiders,” she said. “Previous white people had cruelly exploited them, taken their land, burned their saints. They had no reason to trust us.”[4]

Being officially denied permission to stay in Bachajon, Marianne and Ethel Wallis, another SIL missionary who had traveled with her, settled at a German coffee ranch near Yajalon, where she began her translating work.

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