Tarore was a little Maori girl who lived in the Waikato part of New Zealand back in the times when there were only a very few white people living there. The Maori people still hadn’t got European clothes to wear, nor did they have proper houses to live in. Things were still very primitive in their villages. Tarore didn’t really know much about the white people. She lived in the village with her parents and her little brother.

She often heard her father talking with the other warriors about things like battles and utu (revenge) and she knew there were often wars going on between the different tribes near where they were living. If anyone was killed, even if it was an accident, one of that person’s relatives would have to kill another person to get even.

Tarore knew that white people had books that they could read, and there came this longing into her mind, that she wanted to learn to read. If only she could get to where the white missionary lady lived, she might teach her to read, she thought. She told her father (Ngakuku) one day about this, and how much she wanted to be able to read.

“What good will that do you?”, he asked, “It won’t help you to get food to eat!”

But nothing put Tarore off. Every now and then, she would ask her father to let her go and see the white  lady. At last, he said “Yes”.  Tarore was so pleased. She could hardly wait to leave and go.

She trudged along the forest trails and over the high hills between their village and the new town on the coast where the missionaries lived. When she arrived at the house where the missionaries (Mr. and Mrs. Brown) lived, she was almost too afraid to walk up the path and knock on the door. But she got enough courage to do this. Mrs. Brown came to the door and saw this little Maori girl standing there in her flax skirt holding her little kit-bag with a few things in it. Mrs. Brown knew enough of the Maori language to understand what Tarore was saying.

“Of course we will teach you how to read”, she said kindly, “But you will have to live with us here in the house and learn our ways first”.

Tarore was overjoyed and soon learned how to wear the strange sort of clothes that Mrs. Brown gave her. She also had to learn how to sit at a table and eat her food off a plate with a knife and fork. She found this very strange at first….it was so much easier and quicker to eat with one’s fingers! But because she couldn’t wait to begin her reading lessons, she quickly did as she was told.

She had other things to learn too. How to sleep in a proper bed instead of on the floor, and then how to make it the next morning. How to have a bath and keep her hair tidy and clean. Everything was so different!  

 At last the day came when she could begin to learn to read. She picked it up very quickly, and found she had to learn how to spell words out and write them too. She also learned about the Bible and how it was God’s book for everyone to read. She was so pleased that she would be able to learn to read from this book.  The part of the Bible that Mrs. Brown used to teach Tarore to read from,  was the  part called the book of Luke (in the Maori language it was “Ruka”). Mrs. Brown taught her in the Maori language from a Maori translation of the Bible.

   After some months, Mrs. Brown told Tarore she had learned enough to go home and read to the whanau (family). Mrs. Brown prayed as she watched Tarore trot off  wearing her green dress and carrying her little kit-bag with her precious copy of Luke in it, “Please dear God, keep her safe and help her to be able to tell her own people about You”.

Tarore made her way home and was so happy to be able to read to her family as they sat around the fire at night. At first her father,  Ngakuku refused to listen.

 “That’s just stuff for women and children” he said.

But after some weeks, he began to listen and one day, he said,  “Those are the words of truth from the One True God”.

    Shortly after this, he and some of his men made a journey off through the bush, taking Tarore and her little brother with them. Tarore took her precious copy of Luke with her, and at night she would read it before lying down and then put it under her head as she went to sleep. One night, there was a shout from some enemy marauders, and all Ngakuku’s men quickly got away. But Tarore didn’t hear them and when the enemy came upon her, they killed her with their clubs and then took her book and made off. None of them could read and they didn’t really know what to do with it.  

  When they arrived at their home village at Rotorua, one of the captive slaves there could read. So he picked it up and would read it out loud to anyone who would listen. After some weeks, the message of the book started to work on the chief who had killed Tarore. “Those are the words of Truth”, he said, “It is teaching us that we must only do good to others. I have not done good. I must go and tell Ngakuku what I have learned”.

He made his way through the bush trails and over the hills to Ngakuku’s village. When the men of the village saw him coming, they said to Ngakuku, “Here is our enemy. We must kill him and take utu (revenge)  for our little Tarore”.

“No, no” said Ngakuku, “That is not right either. That is not the way of Tarore’s book.  Let us hear what he has to say”.

So the two chiefs met together, and made peace with each other. They had both come to know the One True God that Tarore’s little book had told them about, and it took all the hatred away from them. But Tarore’s little book had not finished its work yet. The slave at Rotorua was set free to go back to his own place which was many miles to the south, and when he went he took Tarore’s book with him. After all, no-one else could read it.

Once again that little book did its work. As the slave read out loud to the people around the fire, two more young warriors heard what it said and believed it. They  talked together and said that it wasn’t good to keep these words to themselves.

 “Let’s go and tell the southern tribes these words of the One True God”, they said. So they asked for the little book and paddled off down through Cook Strait, and along the eastern coast of New Zealand’s South Island eastern coastline.

Everywhere they pulled over to stay, they would read the words of this book of Luke. Many of the Maori people believed their words, and when the white missionaries went to those areas many years later, they found the people were already believing about the One True God. 

It all started with one little girl who wanted to learn to read. What seemed to be a terrible tragedy when little Tarore was killed, God turned into a wonderful blessing….Tarore went to be with Him and many hundreds of people came to hear about Him as a result. It just shows that we are never too little to tell others about the Lord Jesus. Tarore’s grave is still able to be seen in a paddock near Highway 27 just out of Matamata, Waikato….it has a plaque with her name on it.