Chapter Three
CHAPTER THREE
OUR FIRST HOME—WHAT COMES FIRST?
ONEYMOON over, we set out for our station in the town of Chengchiang. Yin-chang, John's serving boy, but rate married himself, had gone on ahead to get things ready or us.
We travelled down the French Railway until about noon, when we came to the spot where we were to proceed overland. Porters to carry our things and a mountain chair for me were already waiting there for us. John chose to walk. It was a beautiful trip over high velvety wrinkled mountain ranges, piled up one against another to the skyline, affording deep glimpses into separating valleys where quaint little hamlets lay.
But it had rained for many days previously and the mountain trails were slippery. My coolies had to pick their steps so carefully that time was lost, and the sun set before we were twothirds of the way. For an hour and a half we had to feel for our path, with constant danger of a false step and broken bones. And the last half-hour the porters dared carry me no further, so down
I got. Dusk was falling, so I could not see the way plainly, and, with John holding one arm and a Chinese coolie the other, we
_ slid, jumped, and ran down the last slopes on to the plain.
Just as we reached the level, the moon came out and flooded all objects in soft white light. On three sides towered dark shadowy masses—the surrounding mountains. Far off, on the fourth side, at the end of the plain, gleamed a silver sheet of water, a lake. I was so thrilled with the beauty that I sent up a Thank You through the starlit sky to the Giver of every good gift. e But we still had to cross the plain. A shout ahead—and a lighted lantern approached us—it was one of the Chengchiang
Christians come out in search of the missing bride and groom.
"Courage, Belle," said my dear John to very weary me. "He says that Yin-chang has a lovely Chinese feast waiting for us—
OUR FIRST HOME—WHAT COMES FIRST?
$7 been waiting for hours as I usually get in before dark when I make this trip," and so we plodded on. At length a great wall of mud and two huge massive doors loomed up before us.
"Chengchiang city-gate, Belle dear. They close it at 6 o'clock, but Mr. Yang told them we were coming and the watchman has orders to open for us. Not much farther now." But I was speechless with weariness and could only stumble over the rough cobblestones of the streets until we reached a certain doorway.
"Here we are, Belle!" John called out excitedly. "Welcome home!" And as he spoke he stooped, picked me up, and carried me over the threshold and up the stairs. "This is our home!
Want to see it?"
"Oh, not tonight, dear. Just give me a bed," was all I could get out, completely exhausted and faint, as we had not eaten for many hours.
"Aren't you going to come down to supper? Yin-chang has cooked such a big meal!"
But I was at the end; words took too much strength. I just shook my head. "Bed" was merely boards on a trestle with a mattress on top, but to stretch out and be still was pure luxury.
"Tsn't there anything you can eat?" inquired my bridegroom anxiously. I thought a moment. "Hot soup?"
"Yes. I've got a tin, I think. Just a minute," and he was gone.
Shortly he was back with a big bowl of steaming hot tomato soup. Oh, was it good! It tasted like nectar—my first meal in our own home.
The next morning I was thoroughly renewed and as keen to inspect the premises as John was to escort me around.
I told you it wasn't ares late kept saying anxiously. And it wasn't. Two rooms over a little poe bik right on the market
'street. There were no windows at all, but the front and back walls were folding doors which could be rolled back in the daytime.
If you rolled them back, you got the light but no privacy.
Anyone walking down the street could look right up and see in.
If we wished privacy we had to shut the doors and go into the semi-light of a closed wooden box—there was no electricity, of course. The Oriental cdnnot understand the Westerner's desire for privacy. Dishonest and evil deeds need to be kept out of
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sight, of course, but why anything else ? What do you contemplate doing that the public should not view it?
An upper back veranda, at the head of which a native stove had been built, was the kitchen. And in the side wing of the house were twosmall dark rooms where Yin-chang and his bride lived.
The house was owned by Chinese Muslims who were still living in the back wing. To do our laundry we had to take our zinc tubs and clothes and go through the Muslims' home to the back garden where there was a well. After washing, our clothes had to be hung on our own upper and side verandas. Anything that was not securely fastened and which happened to blow down over the railing was seized by those below as their lawful prey. I saw them using a handkerchief or towel of ours from time to time, so I was able to guess where the wind had carried our missing things!
But I was not dismayed at our poor quarters. I knew the C.LM. sent their missionaries to live right among the people, and I was prepared for anything. I did not mind living in a humble place for the Lord's sake, but I saw no reason why I should not make it as attractive as possible. So I had come prepared with enamel paint and cretonne.
It is true that Mr. Hoste, our General Director, had said something about this in my first personal interview with him. I reall had not understood what made him say it; but he had pr |
"Miss Miller, if I had a beautiful bedspread, I would throw it in the river." I was startled. Did he have X-ray eyes! I did have a beautiful quilt in my boxes, a wedding gift from a girl friend.
But however did Mr. Hoste know that? And if he did, wh should he object ? I murmured politely, "Is that so!" or some suc filler-in, but inwardly I had answered, "Well, I'm not throwing my quilt into the river!" It was a lovely thing—would trim up a shack very nicely, you know.
This windowless, wooden upstairs was an agreeable challenge.
With wedding gift money we had bought some ee) rattafl furniture. As a bachelor John had lived on backless See es, but now we had a small settee, a couple of chairs, a table and a rattan rug, all in natural tones. The uneven, warped floor boards disappeared under the rug. In one corner I had to put my big trunk—there was no other place for it—but I had a pretty green
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_-———s OUR FIRST HOME—WHAT COMES FIRST?
$9 and crimson travelling rug which I pinned over it as a cover.
John's table-desk (off which we ate) was in another corner, and ; soon the dull room had blossomed into a nice living-room.
When the bedroom had been fixed up in blue and white, the place was really transformed. And so began our life among the country Chinese people.
Already there was a small church in Chengchiang and there I was introduced by John. I was proud of his fluent Chinese and glad that one of us, at least, could speak and understand. Truly we were living right among the people. We had come for them,
~ and they were not long in coming to us.
"Visitors, Belle!' John called out one afternoon, and a busy chatter of voices ascending the stairs brought me running. A group of peasant women who had come to market were to be my first lot of heathen guests. Delightedly I welcomed them and showed them into our pretty brown and green sitting-room.
They admired it very much and I was glad to share it with them —or thought I was. After they were seated I began to explain the gospel message, as much as my one year and four months of anguage study allowed. I was thrilled to see that they understood me.
We were getting along fine when, all of a sudden, an oldish woman who was sitting on my big trunk in the corner, blew her nose with her fingers, and—wiped the stuff off on my beautiful travelling rug! In another minute a young mother laughingly held her baby son out over my new rattan rug. She carried him to the door, but as she went she carefully held him out over the rug so that a wet streak ran down the centre of my cherished floor covering. Since their own floors were of earth my visitor had no idea that she was doing anything offensive to me. That was just their custom.
Outwardly I managed to remain courteous, escorted them to the door when they rose to leave, and in time-honoured Chinese fashion begged them to go slowly and come again. Then I returned to my deflated sitting-room and stood looking at it— that disgusting gob on my travelling rug, and the discoloured streak across the pretty new mat. Hot resentment rose in my heart, and then there Siotred my first battle over things.
Suddenly I understood what Mr. Hoste had meant. "Miss
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; ae Miller, if I had a beautiful bedspread, I would throw it into th river." He did not mean that he did not like beautiful things. He meant that if possessions would in any way interfere with our hospitality, it would be better to consign them to the river.
In other-words, if your finery hinders your testimony throw it out. In our Lord's own words, if thine hand offend thee, cut it off;
He was not against our possessing hands, but against our using them to hold on to sinful or hindering things.
— So I faced my choice. In our first home—what was to come first? An attractive sitting-room just for ourselves? Or a room suited to share with the local Chinese?
Our engagement motto hung silently on the wall—God first.
Mentally I offered that pretty rattan furniture to the Lord to be wrecked by the country peasants if they chose. The day was not far off when we were called to leave Chengchiang and move west to Tali. Then I had an opportunity to begin anew. I sold that rug and the rattan furniture to the Chinese postmaster's wife, and our Tali guest hall was plainly furnished with the lotal wooden lacquer chairs and tea tables, which could be easily washed and were such as all the Chinese had.