Chapter Twelve
CHAPTER TWELVE
A GLIMPSE OF STORYBOOK LAND
o Gas next morning we were up before daylight, and on the road with the first beams of the rising sun. Travelling was hot and tedious; it would have been very hard if the vision seen on the mountain top had not encouraged our hearts. This dusty tortuous way was Esding to the Salween—it had an end, thus whispered our vision. Our feet stumbled over the rocky path, but our hearts followed the vision and at night time we arrived where the vision had promised—on the bank of the Salween.
The entrance to that part of Lisuland, which was to be our home for so many years, is guarded by a little market town, where three feudal lairds have their Yamen (official residence).
It is named Luku, which translated means Six Treasuries. We were entertained by one of these, who took us through his castle and showed us how he had fortified it. That night after supper
John whispered to me to go with him for a walk out on the mountainside. As night fell the mountains of the opposite bank of the Salween became jet black towers. Turreted peaks pierced a dark sky spangled with brilliant stars. I was enthralled. "Storybook land!"' I gasped. But soon the sombre shadows of the opposite bank of mountains were broken with golden dancing spots of light.
"See that?' whispered John. "Those are Lisu fires! Lisu villages. Belle, dear, you are in Lisuland!"
I can never forget the thrill that went through me.
"My sheep wandered through all the mountains, and upon every high hill: yea, my flock was scattered upon all the face of the earth, and none did search or seek after them. My flock meat to every beast of the field, because there was no shepherd" (Ezek. 34:6, 8). I was looking upon the fires of our
Lord's "other sheep."' "Other sheep I have, which are not of this fold: them also I must bring" (John 10:16). For unknown centuries they have been forgotten and left prey to every beast of the
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field, every demon of the devil's host. But now we had come as under-shepherds. Our joy and fellowship with the Great
Shepherd at that moment is too sacred to describe, but it was one of life's great moments.
The next day was a series of mountain climbs. By noon we were at.a height two thousand feet above the Salween. John ointed to our afternoon road. '""We drop down here," he said,
'cross the stream at the bottom, climb that set of hairpin turns till level in height with where we are now, go around the brow of that hill, and there is Pine Mountain Village and Leila
Cooke.""!
I looked at the wild chaotic pile of mountains, remembered the many days' journey between here and Chinese civilization from which we had come, heard in memory Mr. Fraser' say,
"She has not seen another white face for months," and my heart sat at Leila Cooke's feet.
We had wonderful fellowship together. The second day after our arrival, Mark of Goomoo with his two comrades and his challenging story arrived. (This is told in Nests Above the Abyss.)
By the third or fourth morning John was feeling the need of exercise.
"T think I'll just go out and help those fellows work the garden," he said to me, disappearing through the door. Leila
Cooke and I were inside busy about something, when suddenly we heard laughter, then peals of laughter, then gales of it. Leila got up, went to the door and looked out.
"Well," she exclaimed, "I was told there was a second side to John Kuhn that few people get to see, but I didn't believe it. Now
I know." I went and looked over her shoulder. Two Lisu boys had been hocing the rough mountainside preparatory to planting a garden. Now they were rolling on the ground holding their sides with laughter. John, who could not yet speak Lisu so could not yet talk to them, had taken the hoe. They had looked astonished but yielded the implement at his request. Solemnly he raised it, gave it a mighty whirl, and brought it down heavily, juft missing the clod of earth aimed at. At first their laughter was covert, but when his pantomime made it obvious that he was
1 Mrs. A. B. Cooke, author of Honey Two of Lisuland and Fish Four.
A GLIMPSE
OF STORYBOOK LAND
clowning for their benefit, their delight knew no bounds.
From that day he became Big Brother, beloved and adored.
Leila Cooke was with us only long enough to explain a certain "persecution the church was undergoing because they refused to plant opium. Then she left us to rejoin her husband who was in the Luda district, six days' journey to the north. Moses, a tribesman, who spoke Chinese, was our interpreter.
Before she departed Leila Cooke said to me (as if it were a casual matter), "Oh, by the way, Moses' wife is expecting, you know. I promised to help her. But if the baby comes before I return you'll have to be in charge, I suppose."
"Oh!" I cried aghast, "I couldn't! I've never seen such a thing and I've had no training and..."
"T haven't had training either,"' she replicd, "but there is nobody else to help her! A Lisu woman might be obtained but they are not clean, you know. You and I at least understand hygiene.
And as for not having seen a birth—you've had a baby yourself, haven't you?"
"Yes," I gasped. "But I—er—wasn't taking note of the procedure."
"Well, there are some books on obstetrics in the lower shelf,"
Leila said, indicating her bookcase. "And to comfort you—none of her other babies have lived. They were all still-born. So if this one is also, you need not feel it was your fault. But I wish for Moses' sake this one could live. He would so love to have a child. ...
Well, goodbye. We'll pray for one another!" And off she went, I cannot describe my feelings. Remember I am a "softy." The very idea of being responsible for a birth gave me cold chills.
I seized the obstetric books and they were full of incidents of a cases. The more I read the more nightmares I got!
And it was dear Moses' wife and baby!
| This Moses was the Fish Four of the moving story written by Leila Cooke. I had met him before and been deeply impressed.
His breadth of brow betokened the unusual intellect he possessed, but he was so humble and modest, always shrinking into the | background. I had come to love him dearly in the Lord. There
"was an atmosphere of rest about him, the serene peace of a life abandoned to the Lord and governed by Him. Yet he was a
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born leader of men. When he conducted the singing in church there was a grace of movement and a power to inspire that I have seldom seen equalled.
Mrs. Cooke had told me how the white people in Shanghai had been thrilled with him and wanted to give him gifts, white cambrié shirts among other things. '"We feared that he might be spoiled before he got back to these rough hills," she continued,
"but to our relief he went right into native homespun clothes and we've never seen a sign of those cambric shirts. I've sometimes wondered what he has done with them."
A few days after she left us, there was a baptismal service at Pine Mountain and Moses, as native pastor, officiated. When he went down into the pool, he stood a moment and rolled up his sleeves. There under the navy blue homespun was a fine cambric cuff. Hastily he tured it back up and under. But I had seen it.
He was wearing his Western finery, but where it would not show, and his poorer Lisu brethren would never be moved to envy by it.
Do you wonder why we loved Moses? And was I to be the one, by bungling ignorance, to cost him another child? The thought did not help to steady my nerves. Vainly I hoped the birth would be postponed until Mrs. Cooke got back.
She had been gone perhaps ten days, when Moses came to me.
"Big Sister," he said, "Grace is having stomach ache. Would you kindly come and see her?" Quickly I went up to their shanty, which stood on the slope just above ours. His wife Grace was crouched in the far corner of the room. She looked like a wild animal cornered by the inescapable, and she would obey no advice of mine! I gave all the medical counsel which had been given to me. She would act on none of it. She would not even. talk with me.
"Well, we will get things sterilized and arranged, Moses," I said, my heart beating quickly with excitement. "I have studied the medical books and we must prepare so-and-so and so-and-so," naming off the items. "Also we think the baby does better if it sleeps i itself." I added this doubtfully, for I knew the Lisu did not agree with us in this.
"I would like my baby brought up like your babies," he said quickly. "Would this basket do for a baby bed?" It was just
esse A GLIMPSE OF STORYBOOK LAND
tight. With great joy I got some materials Leila Cooke had left at my disposal, and we fixed the basket up very prettily. Moses, usually so calm and deliberate, was obviously stirred and excited.
All that day we waited and nothing happened. I went to bed with my Hoos on, expecting an early call, but none came.
Grace was still where I first saw her. She would not get up, she would not walk or exercise, she just crouched in the corner.
As the day progressed Moses got anxious—I could see it in his eyes. As for me, mine were nearly inflamed from poring over the medical books! There was instruction as to preparation, and advice as to reception and after birth care, but not a word on what to do to induce labour.
By late afternoon the concern in Moses' eyes haunted me. He never lost his slow serene movements, but his eyes belied that calm behaviour. "Isn't there a medicine you can give her to speed it up, Ma-ma?" he asked.
Pray? I had prayed until I was nearly exhausted. John did not know any more than I did about what to do. But from somewhere in the past I thought I remembered somebody saying something about using quinine.
"There is a medicine I think I heard once that someone advised.
But oh, Moses, I can't be sure! No book tells me either. If it was the wrong medicine it might kill her! And I don't know the dosage."
"T'm willing to try it," said the poor fellow, his eyes pleading for help.
"Oh, Moses, you trust me too much. I'm not sure I heard rightly."' I was in an agony of doubt. "'I tell you, let us pray about it. You go back and pray and I will stay here and pray. After ten minutes come back and we'll see how the Lord has led us."
How I pleaded that God would not let me make a mistake!
But gradually the conviction came that I should try quinine in 'small doses. When Moses returned I asked him, ""What do you think?"
"T think we should try that medicine, Ma-ma."
; "T fecl the same. All right, here it is. Now Moses, we are going to give her one two-grain pill every half-hour. You watch carefully. If you see any new development call me immediately."
And with that, for the second night I lay down in my clothes.
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It was not yet midnight when a knock came at our door. I was up in a moment. It was Moses.
"Please come, Ma-ma."
I don't know how I got up that dark mountainside. I was , shaking from head to foot. Had I killed her? She was lying down this time and I turned my flashlight upon her. In another moment a little one was in our hands.
"It's dead," said Moses mournfully, when a piercing wail rent : the air!
God uses the foolish things of the earth veritably and had been merciful to this inexperienced "nurse.'' A lovely baby girl, whom they named Esther, was soon clean and rosy, daintily wrapped up in her wee bed, sleeping peacefully.
For the first and only time I saw Moses excited. His eyes shone like stars for joy. He ministered to the baby much more than her mother, and with such a loving tenderness and lingering over her, that it brought the tears to my eyes. No sleep for him— joy was his food and drink. He spent the hours while baby slept, writing letters to all his friends and relatives, He just wanted to tell everybody that this baby had lived.
The afternoon of the second day he came to me with trouble in his eyes.
"Do you have any tinned milk, Ma-ma?" he asked, "T'd like to buy some. Baby Esther's mother cannot feed our child."
I stared at him a moment, then pulled my face straight.
"T will gladly sell you milk, Moses," I said, "but it is usual for the mother not to start feeding the baby until the third day."
Oh, what a relief! Once more life was a joy, and he turned round to speed back to his young Madonna with this wonderful news. Baby Esther grew chubby and strong.
She was not yet a month old, however, before a runner came in from Allyn Cooke i in the north. It contained a message something like this: "If Moses' baby has been born, please ask him to come up and help us here for three months. The work is hee ing so—we need him."
"Oh," I cried to John, "how cruel to ask Moses to leave just now! Three months? Why, he will miss all the first baby awakenings, the first smile, de first laugh. Oh, I can't deliver this message.
A GLIMPSE OF STORYBOOK LAND
But as it turned out, I was the one who had to do it, after all.
_ We were standing in the main room of our shanty, and through the open door the beautiful snow-clad peaks of the opposite bank of the Salween jutted up into the blue, blue sky. As I delivered the message Moses gave me one startled look, then he turned and gazed at those steadfast sparkling peaks. Obviously
Moses was speaking in his heart with his Lord. For, as I watched, his face cleared and was suffused with peace. Turning to me he said quietly, "I will go if the Lord wants me to go." It had been but a short struggle. The one big "yes" of utter consecration had been said some years before, so that the further surrender of each new gift or joy from Him did not consume much time or wrestling.
I felt I was standing on holy ground, and I prayed within m heart, "Lord, this is just one Lisu. If his race can produce with ees wilt Thou take my life and use it in teaching them of ec?" ea ——
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
«A PARTING THAT DID NOT PART
ad Besa month we had promised to stay soon drew to its close.
But the opium persecution affair was not yet settled. The Lisu church desired that John stay on for a few more weeks.
He wanted to stay on too, but I had promised the girls that I would be back in about a month. It was already past that and there was no way to telegraph them of delay. Neither could we tell when the opium business would be settled. As a matter of fact, John did not get back until June. So I felt I must return to Yungping and relieve the young missionaries of my work so that they could pursue their studies.
It was decided that Ma Fu-yin go with me. He was an attractive Christian Chinese lad of about twenty who had come with us and consented happily to be my escort back. There was a shorter route, John thought, than the one by way of Old Nest village, but I would still have to cross the mountains. Few used that road, and I believe I am the only white woman who has ever been over it. It crossed directly to the Mekong valley.
Chinese market towns dot that road, so it was easy to get food and lodging. I rode Jasper, a wily old mule lent to us by Mr.
Fraser.
John and I will never forget that parting. My heart was torn between husband and child. I did not like to awe ey although our Lisu friends would feed him well and care for him. At the same time I had never before been separated from Kathy, and I could hardly wait to get back to her. John did not like to see me go cither, so he decided to ride with me to the top of Place-ofAction mountain, which he reckoned would be about half-wa along my first day's journey.
The scenery was indescribably gorgeous. Higher up the mountain than Place-of-Action village was the village of Golden
Bamboo, where we had many Christians, so we had slept there the night before and climbed from there. The road went hair-
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A PARTING THAT DID NOT PART
pinning back 'and forth, back and forth, each rise in altitude giving a farther glimpse of mountain peaks behind the great summits which banked the canyon. I felt we were climbing to the br i of the world—mountain-tops like the waves of the sea spread out in all directions, but the sea-troughs were abysses of great depth. My heart trembled even as it thrilled.
= Then the path left the banks of the Salween and began to travel into one of the tributary rivers but it still ascended. It was a mere cow ee which necessitated our going single file. At one place we skirted a great rocky knoll and jutted out over nothing! I closed my eyes lest the drop at the side of the path should unsteady me, for it would be a fearful plunge over that edge!
Till almost noon we rode, then the path seemed to have reached the top of the range, and looked to be level far on ahead. John reined in his horse. ""Well, Belle, I guess we part here," he said.
A lump was in my throat. I must go on alone now, and leave him alone.
Now when I have to face a separation which is painful I like to get it over with quickly. So when John called Ma Fu-yin and the Lisu carriers together for a parting prayer, I was hoping he would make it short! But not so Johnny. His disposition is quite different. Propriety is very important to him and to hurry through such a separation is a shallow performance not worthy of a real Christian. So, after a lengthy prayer, he raised his voice and began to sing, "God be with you till we meet again, By His counsels guide, uphold you, With His sheep securely fold you, God be with you. . . ."
Now singing is just the last straw, emotionally, to me. The camel's back breaks every time. So when he plaintively continued,
"Till we me-ce-et—Till we me-et Till we meet at Jesus' feet," visions of all the awful things that might happen to dear Hubby in that canyon before I saw him again harrowed me until I fele
I could not stand it. But John inexorably went on, t
hb > "Till we me-ee. ...'
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I opened my eyes. "Please stop it," I was going to say, when I caught sight of a tail whisking around the corner. There was another objector—Jasper had jerked his head loose from Ma
Fu-yin who, with closed eyes, was valiantly trying to follow | the song, with which he was not too familiar. When I saw Jasper, his hind legs and tail were waving a gay farewell. Back down over the trail we had just come raced the animal, driving in front of him John's mount also. John never did get this "me-ce-et" | finished. I screamed, and Ma Fu-yin, feeling a jerk on his hand, came back to earth, picked up his heels, and started off in chase of Jasper and the other horse!
But this was a delightful game to the mule. Down hill the whole way, you know, and such a narrow road that Ma Fu-yin could find no short cut to steer him off! Also such an untravelled road that there was nobody at all to stop him en route. Jasper and the horse raced gaily around sharp corners, Ma Fu-yin after them, legs and arms flying like a windmill. Out of sight of his pursuer Jasper would stop to nibble the delicious green grasses richly banking the wild path. As the human windmill turned the corner and came into view, off went the two animals again.
Left horseless on that high trail, we waited for a while, then decided to walk together back down the trail, hoping against hope to meet Ma Fu-yin with a subdued and repentant Jasper in tow. No such good fortune! Hour after hour we plodded on foot back over the way we had ridden. Finally we came again to the banks of the Salween, and far down almost to Si chied Bamboo Village we beheld Ma Fu-yin with Jasper in tow at last.
But it was now too late in the day to proceed. That night we slept in the same place from which we had left that morning.
'Now don't you think it is the Lord trying to persuade ~ you to stay with me?" suggested Hubby hopefully the next morning.
"No," said his stubborn spouse, "I think it is a warning to you not to indulge in such long-drawn out partings!"'
This time John decided not to escort me, ae he took a seat on a big stone by the side of the road. And as our party ascended back and forth over the hairpin turns, he became smaller and smaller, until he looked the size of a pin-head, still waving his handkerchief.
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PARTING THAT DID NOT PART
The rest of that day's journey was lonely but grand. At the very top of the range we came upon a little sun-kissed meadow where gurgled a sparkling clean brook, a wonderful place for a _ camp. But we pressed on. Dusk was falling before we even began to descend. And finally I got off the weary mule and stumbled down the mountain-side, with only pale moonlight to show the trail. We stopped for the night at the first village.
The next day's journey was most pleasant. The road wound through rice fields beginning to show their emerald green, and often by the banks of the blue Mekong river.
Late that afternoon we came to a small market town beside the first bridge which we had seen. Here there was a small inn with a stable in the inner courtyard. Ma Fu-yin came to me,
"Szu-mu," he said, "I don't think that stable will keep this mule inside. He is devilish wise, you know. I've never met such an animal, and I have misgivings about what he'll do tonight."
The owner of the place seemed to be a woman. "Da-ma"
(great mother), I said to her, "'Haven't you a door for that stable?
I fear our mule will get out if you haven't."
"Get out of my stable? Nonsense," she said, "it has bars that are put across. Animals stay there all the time—nothing ever gets out."
"But our mule is old and wise. I fear those bars won't hold him. Can't you help us make it more secure?"
"No ied no need," she said confidently. "I'll guarantee he'll not get out if you put the bars down."
About three o'clock the next morning I was awakened by a most fearful racket downstairs. An excited voice was swearing in a high pitched tone, Something big was being whacked! It sounded like an elephant in a china shop. Suddenly a shrill neigh awoke my suspicions. I sat up in bed and called out, "Ma
Fu-yin!" Soon his slender form appeared in my doorway but he was shaking with suppressed laughter. Chinese oaths and execrations continued, mingled with whacks, from below.
"Tt was Jasper!" whispered Ma Fu-yin. "During the night he lifted the stable bars off with his nose, strode out into the courtyard, sniffed Da-ma's big pan of beancurd which she had made
_ to sell on the market today. He went into her kitchen and had
eaten about half of it before she woke up and found him!"
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It was an irate innkeeper that said goodbye to usafter breakfast.
But naughty as Jasper was, I never forgot that that old mule had done me one great favour. Thereafter, whenever a painful and prolonged parting was in prospect I had only to say plead- , ingly, "John, please! Remember Jasper!"
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
THE THING WITH THE STUFF IN IT
T was December (1934) before we were finally able to move into Lisuland as a family. It was quite an undertaking. At Pine Mountain almost the only cable that could be purchased was corn. Sometimes a salt merchant came around, rice could be bought, and chickens were frequently obtainable. Eggs we traded for medicine—an egg for a pill—not evaluating the size of the pill or the age of the egg! But flour, sugar, tinned milk and goods we must bring in. Clothes and bedding must also be
20 for horse loads, as well as kerosene for light, tools for uilding, books and medicine. The money used in the canyon was silver, which weighed heavily if you were taking in enough for several months' living expenses. We would need to hire carriers, also servants, since water had to be carried from well to house. Besides, the nearest mail box was a day's journey away.
All in all we found ourselves with eleven pack horses. John _ decided that the easiest route for pack animals was via Old Nest
: zi } if ' village a = So retired out. The weather was beautiful—clear blue _ skies with golden sunshine and just enough nip in the air to _ stimulate exercise and appetite.
Ka being with us, she and I rode in a sedan chair while Az tode Jasper. Where it was too steep for the porters to carry
G vets ~~ me together, I got out and rode the mule and John e ___ It was pleasant travelling up the beautiful Mekong valley, but eventually, of course, we came to '"The Dirtiest Inn in the _ World." We had a merry time in that sooty farmhouse. Cooped up all day long in the chair, Kathryn was all activity as soon as 'adh out. She was three years old and into everything. Now can be washed off with cold water, but not soot! To get hot water, we had to heat it in a grimy pot over an open wood fire on the floor or in the courtyard. Our patience was tried to
T12
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the breaking point. We longed for nightfall in order to put Kathryn to bed, and then we tried to get everything packed up and breakfast cooked before we woke her in the morning, so that she would not look quite like a chimney sweep by the time we started.
At length we were ready; horses' loads were lined up waiting to have the animals led under them. We had finished breakfast and I had saved some warm water to give Kathryn a last hand wash before I put her in the chair. For myself, I despaired of ever starting out clean. The place was such a junk shop and the low ceilings so festooned with sooty cobwebs, I had only to turn round and something was sure to brush a black mark against my cheek, or my skirt, or my hands. Unknown to me, John had found it as irritating as I had, but he had prepared some hot water in a different room and made up his mind to have a wash just before setting out.
Muleteers, chair porters, Kathryn and I were all ready to leave, but where was John? We usually had prayer together before setting out.
"John," I called. "Hurry up! We're all waiting for you."' No answer. Where could he be? I was about to call again, when he emerged from a side room beaming with amiability.
"See, Belle," he said, glowing with success, and holding out two spotless palms for my admiration. "At least I'm clean when
I leave."
"What on earth!' He had turned over his newly washed hands and there, behold, a black streak of soot across the back. of one!
He must have brushed against something as he came out the door! '""Would you look at that," he said, disgusted. "What a place! Well, I'll. . ." and he began peering into this load and . that one. "'Belle, where is the thing with the stuff in it?"
I stood, knitting my brow, trying to think what he meant.
But my silence he interpreted as non-cooperation. ""Where's that thing with the stuff in it?"" He shot the question at me agai
The muleteers could not understand English (would it lave helped if they could?) but they knew that something concerning the loads had displeased their sunny-tempered master, and had a feeling that it would be wise to appear industrious at this moment, so they began pulling at ropes and poking at the horses
HING WITH THE STUFF IN IT
ious manner. Only I stood there appearing to be idle; I was scurrying around mentally trying to guess what
John was hunting for.
"Belle!" he protested. ""Why don't you help a fellow? You _ stand there gaping—Where's that thing with the stuff in it?"
__ Then my indignation broke. "I defy anyone in this universe to help you, John Kuhn, when you use such ambiguous language.
A thing with the stuff in it? Why everywhere I look," indicating _ the eleven horse loads, "everywhere I look there are things with _ stuff in them!"
__ But my retort was lost. He was half buried in the depths of one'
_ basket, from which he emerged at last, smiling and calm, holding up a tube of hand cream. "'Don't get excited, dear," he
_ said soothingly, "I just thought this would take the soot mark off. I'm Say now."
The muleteers, seeing that the sun was shining again, straight_ ened up with relief and began to call the animals forward. And ~ Daddy led us in prayer for protection on the road that day.
_ As we began to climb a particularly difficult and arduous part _ of the ascent I began to picture to John the scene of the morning,
_ mimicking his question until its unreasonableness dawned upon _ him. Then he began to laugh—laugh until he could hardly climb. ou see, there is more than one-way of rubbing a thing in!) So it has become another of our family jokes. In fact for twelve
"years now it has helped us over the small crises of life when _ Something quickly needed is difficult to lay hands on. If one of "us roars, "The thing with the stuff in it?"' then in the midst of quent laughter a more accurate description speedily follows.
¥ ; *
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
FURLOUGH WITHOUT BAGGAGE (1936)
| ieee followed sixteen months of happy work in Lisuland, wherein memories include the building of our shanty,
"Home of Grace." John always hoped he would not be asked to build a house on the mission field, but when it fell to his lot he built it so strong that it stood well for some twenty years, in fact until the Communists tore it down.
Now as we started on our first furlough we sailed from Shanghai on the President McKinley. We had the joy of fellowship with a missionary family in the cabin next to us, and we had prayer together daily in our cabin.
On one of these occasions, when we had just finished and were in the act of getting off our knees, a fellow passenger, dashing merrily down the corridor, mistook our cabin for his own, and barged in. The poor man was not only surprised, he was petrified !
When he so suddenly arrived in our midst we were neither on ' our knees, nor as yet upright; we were half-way up, groping in the air. He looked as if he thought he had landed in a cell me insane asylum, and his face so clearly revealed his thoughts that we fell back in our chairs convulsed with laughter.
In those days ocean liners held a Hard Time Party once during the voyage. It was announced for the evening meal one day, an we were all informed by the steward that we would not be served dinner unless we appeared in costume. He looked at the" two C.I.M. missionary families as he said this, thinking possibly that people who had a prayer meeting every day would be too long faced for fun making. We did not undeceive him.
It was John's costume I remember best. Believe it or not, he dressed up as a bold pirate in a sleeveless waistcoat and a pair"of shorts with a gay sash round the middle. Into this was stuck a hunting knife. A red bandana tied round his head was splashed with mercurochrome. He blackened hollows under his eyes with a burnt cork and produced streaks of soot with the same on
URLOUGH WITHOUT BAGGAGE (1936)
1oulders and legs. Mercurochrome supplied more goryashes for neck and limbs—his hair under the bandana
_ was combed down over his eyes. Being big, muscular, and hairy, _ he was a fearsome sight. I had pulled my hair back tight from my
_ face and did it up in a teapot handle, in imitation of Maggie _ Jiggs. With long skirts to the floor I looked the part. Together we
_ sailed into the dining-room, a trifle late, and solemnly faced the _ steward. He had prided himself on being able to identify everybody. We stood there, John scowling in good pirate fashion, and I looking down the length of my nose at him. The steward was
_ dumbfounded. Giggles came from those already seated. He looked around to see who was yet missing to help him catch a clue, but several tables were vacant. He could not guess our identity for the life of him. Finally he had to ask who we were!
As we passed between tables, one of the men called out, "You "take first prize, sir!" And when it got noised abroad that the ferocious pirate was the supposedly eee) missionary, one
_ of the other men guests got up and came to John and said, ""Con- ~gtatulations! You're a good sport."
If the rest of the evening had been games and good fun it would have been a happy evening. But when dinner was over drinking began; dancing and card games soon drove us to our in, so we were not present when the prizes were awarded.
__ Our ship did not dock at Vancouver, where my father and brother lived. The destination was Seattle. So we had to disembark at Victoria and take a coastal steamer from there to Vancouver. John was given baggage tickets to see to the transfer
_ of our luggage from the one ship to the other. We were not tepared, however, for the wonderful reception that the Mission fri in Victoria gave us. Since the local boat was not leaving immediately, they had planned a trip for us to Buchard's Sunken
Gardens. Just to see homeland shores was thrilling enough; but _ the excitement of meeting everybody eclipsed everything else.
It was only after the ship to Vancouver was actually pulling _ out of Victoria harbour that John suddenly clapped his hands on __ his pocket—then with chagrin he pulled out the baggage tickets id them up to me. ''Belle, look! I completely forgot about
jhe Eh a + AP
ONE VISION ONLY
"Oh, John!" That meant we had nothing but what we stood up in—not even an overnight case!
A hasty interview with the purser brought comfort. We could wire for our things to be forwarded to us on the next ship. That night, amidst much laughter, our friends brought us night clothes to sleep.in! And only a few days later our trunks came safely to hand.
All the way from Lisuland to Vancouver we had experienced the covering of His hand!
That arrival in Vancouver was memorable. My father and brother were at the dock; somehow I had not expected so many of my girl friends also to be there. But there they were! It was exciting to lead John up to them and make him guess from my previous descriptions just who was who. And he did not make many mistakes.
Kathryn monopolized Grandpa. We had carefully built up a story around him, telling of the peppermint candy that always hid in his pockets, and so on. We hoped she would not be strange with him, and she wasn't. In fact she clung to him so that Re could go nowhere without her.
We were in Vancouver for about three weeks and then crossed the border into the United States to attend The Firs Bible and Missionary Conference at Bellingham, Washington State. This was the conference where I first had offered my life for foreign service, and I did want my friends there to get to know John.
This year of 1936 the chief speakers were Dr. Lewis Sperry Chafer, Mr. L. E. Maxwell of Prairie Bible Institute, Dr. John
Mitchell and Miss Frances Brook. All four left an imprint on our lives that was permanent, as those who have read our letters can easily discern.
Among the many dear saints of the Lord who attended that conference were Mr. and Mrs. Eastman. They lived on Otcas
Island in Puget Sound, a favourite summer resort. There they had built a oe summer cottages as an investment. But one of these they had dedicated to the Lord to be loaned to missionaries who needed rest. When they offered it to us, urging us to come at the end of the conference, we promised to pray about it.
I was still underweight, due to a hard bout of sickness before — furlough. Also I was highly strung and worn after eight years of
Pees RLOUGH
WITHOUT BAGGAGE (1936)
" service on the field. I needed quietly to get away from even the dear excitement of visiting old friends. John, who takes life more
_ calmly, was in no such need. He liked to be on the go, loved to visit, did not require a full night's sleep, and even could stand ing his as till midnight. Yet we did not like to separ_ ate—that was not any fun either. But it was obvious that I must get where I could sleep and relax. So it came about that August,
_ 1936 saw us established in a couple of rooms over a garage in _ Orcas Island. A nearby cabin in the woods housed Grandpa
Miller, who could not bear to be parted from us.
It proved to be a beautiful little island, with a permanent ing community. In fact, right behind us was a small farm where a middle-aged couple had built a two-roomed cabin. As the sale of produce from their farm was bringing in sufficient peer: they were adding a third room about the time of our arrival.
I was ordered to sleep late every morning, to try to build up hysically. But healthy John found time hanging heavy on his ds, Grandpa liked to fish, but that did not solve John's need
_ for exercise. Finally one morning he announced, "There is an old man next door roofing a side wing of his cabin. He seems to be all alone, and I wonder if he wouldn't like help. I'm going to offer. I just must get some physical work, or J'll get fat and lazy.
Come on, Grandpa, you're good for a few shingles and she aren't you?"
Grandpa, who thought the world of his son-in-law, could not deny it. So that morning saw the short fat figure and the tall muscular one approach the new wing where our neighbour was reargg the rafters, nails in his mouth, shingles and hammer in "Hi there!" called out John. "Want any help? We'd be glad to come up and assist you!"
: coat our neighbour could hardly believe that here were volunteer workmen who wanted no pay.
"Well, I take that as exceedingly kind! But you ought to be told that it is pretty hot up here on the roof."
"Oh, that's O.K.," said John. "A good sweat is healthy. How about our getting to work now? Can you find an extra hammer, you think?"
ONE VISION ONLY
So it came about that, lying on my bed in the flat, along with the call of the sea birds which drifted in through the open windows, I could hear the rat-a-tat-tat of two or three hammers on the Loomis' roof behind us. Five-year-old Kathryn was, of | course, with the working contingent! Playing house with broken shingles-and wandering with Grandma Loomis through her vegetable garden, she was content. The old couple were simply thrilled with their wageless labourers! They kept upa steady stream of gifts from their garden. Squash, beans, cucumbers, just whatever they had, found its way to our kitchen.
More than that, when John went to the corner grocery to buy some coffee, the proprietor beamed on him. "'Aren't you the missionary who is working for Grandpa Loomis? We hear you're going to preach for Mr. Eastman Sunday night. Well, we're coming. Guess you'll have a pretty good crowd! Your reputation has sort of got around the island, A missionary working like that and for nothing, you know!"
So the heart of the island opened to us. We were invited to this farmstead and to that; and we formed friendships that lasted for years. In fact I believe that on Orcas Island there are some who still pray for the Kuhn family and the Lisu tribe.
So once again we found that the Lord's way is the happy way.
John's was a blessed surrender for my health's sake, and brought joy and happiness to many more beside himself.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
HOME TOWN
4 pl strength renewed we left the Pacific northwest for a visit to Daddy's home town, Manheim, Pennsylvania.
After the train sped across the three thousand intervening miles, we finally saw the rolling farmlands that gave us the signal that We were nearing our station, Lancaster. We all got excited.
It was ten years since Daddy had sailed for China and this was his first return home. And although I had visited his sister at one time, this was my first visit as an in-law belonging to the family!
Who would be at the station to meet us?
John's parents were both dead, but he had two half-brothers, Bill and Jim, who still lived there with Aunt Annie and Uncle
Anton. And we were to stay there too. Then there was John's "spiritual mother," Mrs. John Kready. John's own mother had died when he was three years old and dear Mrs. Kready had taken him on her heart to pray him into the Kingdom; then later she stood behind him in prayer as he went down to God's front line
"of battle in China. Already Mother Kready's letters and spiritual remonitions of our needs had made a great impression on me.
Would she be at the station?
I was also most anxious to mect a certain young bookkeeper named Mary Zimmerman. She had written to me while we were still in China, asking permission to duplicate our monthly prayer letters and include them in a little periodical she compiled month called The Triangle. At the time she wrote I had
"never met her or heard of her. But I had been praying to the Lord about our letters. I had felt I should write once a month to people who really prayed for the work—but it would cost too much to post a monthly letter to many people directly from China. So I had prayed, "Lord, if you want this letter multiplied
_ you will have to find the way." About six months or a year Sees there had come this request. At that time The Triangle went to
I20
ONE VISION ONLY
only about one hundred people; but still that meant one hundred to pray for the Lisu! I was very grateful, and now I questioned,
"Will Mary be at the train to meet us?"
There were others too, of whom John had spoken often and whose faces I had seen in snapshots only. Would I recognize them new? But here the train was pulling to a stop and we must not forget our baggage the second time. In another minute we were out on the platform and surrounded with people! I could hear John's voice joyously naming them. "Aunt Annie! Brother
Bill! Brother Jim! Mother Kready!"
Then almost immediately a young woman in a Mennonite cap edged forward and said, "I'm Mary Zimmerman, Could you speak for me at a meeting on the 18th?"' I gasped; my head was going round with all the excitement. But how often I have chuckled over that first meeting with Mary! She had only her noon hour for time off, of course, and it is her remarkable ability to make every moment count which has enabled her to do the work of several people. She wanted me to speak to her prayer group, knowing that it would do much for me as well as for them.
"Why yes, I'd be glad to speak," I replied to her.
"Good. I'll 'leave' you know the details and arrange transportation for you later," she added, with that perfect attention to business detail which blesses her friends. And that was also my introduction to the quaint Pennsylvania Dutch way of putting things. It was all a part of John's Home Town.
Finally we were escorted into Brother Bill's car, and whirled off for Manheim. Lancaster County, with its green hills and beautifully kept farmhouses and barns, is one of the lush spots of America. John was thrilled, glancing from side to side of the' road, recognizing landmarks and chatting with the relatives, sometimes trying to point out places to me.
Then we were in the town itself. The first impression to me, who had been brought up in the wide open spaces of western lands, was of the houses opening right off the street and closély packed together. In the west almost everybody had a front garden, a at yard and side yards; each home was a unit by itself. But here they were built two together like Siamese twins.
To have your front doorstep opening right on to the street gave
HOME TOWN
ne the quaint feeling of being in medieval Germany.
Everythin Was Be rocldisls and the sight of people sar ee in _ Mennonite costume increased my impression that I had walked
- into the pages of a story-book.
The car drove up to one of these double houses and Aunt Annie called out that we were home! Everything was immaculately clean. Annie and Anton, as their nephews called them, had no children, and were the indefatigable, industrious type. And soon we were called down to supper and I was introduced to Pennsylvania Dutch hospitality !
There were three or four different kinds of pie on the table at the same time, and so on.
In my innocence, the first time I offered to help with the housework, I was dubiously given the hanging up of the laundry.
I had no more than a line full up when one of the family asked, horrified, "Isobel, did nobody ever teach you how to hang up clothes?" Quickly they hauled everything off that I had hung up, lest the neighbours discover that John's wife did not know any better than that! No, no.one had ever taught me that there was an Emily Post set of rules for hanging out clothes—so you see I had to learn from the bottom up. John's wife might do as a public ee or even as a missionary author, but as far as the practical things of life were concerned—well, it was easy to see that I was not brought up in Manheim! On the whole they were very indulgent with me. eim was then a town of about four thousand inhabitants.
'ohn had been born there, but the Kuhn homestead now bemged to an older brother of John's father. Of course we went around to see it and then to inspect the old swimming hole at the end of the street. From there to the Hershey Machine and Foundry Company, where John had worked for a year in order to earn moncy to start his studies at Moody Bible Institute. And then off we went to see the school that John had attended. From there down Main Street, dropping in at the drug store so that I "might meet some distant relatives of the Kuhn family, fine
Christian people.
On down Main Street to the corner of the square. "Here is where everybody comes on Saturday night," explained John.
"People drive in from the country round to do their shopping, and everywhere there is lively chatter. Sister Kathryn and I used i
Ter ad
ONE VISION ONLY
to hold open-air services here when we were home from Moody.
I've preached many a time at the corner there."
Near the Square was the home of a fine Christian business man who helped John first at Moody Bible Institute and then through | all the years he was a missionary in China. He was a real lover of the Lord Jesus Christ, and his keen business brain was used in his
Christian living and giving until his Home-call. It was a privilege to discuss problems with him and watch "sanctified common
| sense' go into action.
There was yet another place on the town square which demanded a visit from us. That was the bank. Here was deposited the cash legacy which came to John on his father's death.
It was a nice little nest egg. We had recently been reading C. T.
Studd's Life and it had made a real impression on us. You remember that Studd gave away his entire fortune. John was for doing the same, but I felt we should be careful not to rush into such action.
I reminded John of the need of my father, who was an earnest Christian and a deacon in the church, but who had no compunctions about Boing into debt, even running up a charge account when he had not an income sufficient to pay for it. He was always most optimistically expecting that something would "turn up." To my dear husband's ra Ae credit be it said that in accord with the scriptural challenge of 1 Timothy 5:8, the first cheques that were drawn on his legacy wiped out my father's indebtedness. It amounted to nearly five hundred dollars.
As for the remainder, we offered it to the Lord on our knees, and then arose expecting Him to tell us where it should be given.
It was a thrillingly sweet adventure to watch His finger pointing.
One hundred was given to an earnest young missionary working on the border of Russia; another hundred to help outfit a new worker for Africa; another to enable a fine Christian girl to finish at Prairie Bible Institute; another to send a missionary to South America; and more hundreds to enable a Manheim girl to go to Moody Bible Institute. This latter lassie from John's o home town met and married a keen soul-winner at M.B.L and together they have been burning and shining lights for the Lord in Central America for many years.
As for us, we lacked nothing. Without a car, friends offered
HOME TOWN
this help so that we never lacked transportation. Speaking gements were piling up and a generous friend provided my
"platform clothes." John was cared for by others, and Kathryn _ was sent to kindergarten by still others.
"cc __ These provisions were all the more astounding because there in Manheim everybody must have heard the amount Father
Kuhn left to his children. We had told no one what John meant to do with his share, not even our brothers and sisters, so our friends could not have thought that we were financially pinched or lacking. It was just the Lord that prompted them to care for our needs, as He had prompted us to meet the needs of His other children in other parts of the world.
"God is no man's debtor," said one of Hudson Taylor's friends to him, and we have proved it true.
Now as one sits back and views the small town community, removed by space and over a period of some thirty years,
"the inheritance of saints" is the most outstanding impression.
Gradually I have come to see that, with my husband, I have gained a rich portion of this great inheritance of saints.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
THE TICKLISH QUESTION
[iss time was now approaching when our little daughter : must enter school, and we ourselves were due to return to , the field.
How can the child of missionaries, especially pioneer missionaries working on a far and primitive field, get an education?
This is the most ticklish of all missionary problems, and feelings run deep and warm on the subject.
To keep a child alone among adults, especially one of Kathy's gregarious disposition, was a positive cruelty. The way she would simply tremble with delight at the idea of playmates used to stab my heart. To let her continue to play with the Lisu children was also out of the question.
Thad had a fellow-worker, a child of the Mission, once draw me aside and warn me, with tears in her eyes, not to expose my child to the immoral things she might see and hear from native playmates. "I'd give anythin: if I could wipe out some of my childhood memories," this aitl said to me. "My parents were good missionaries, but they thought if they put 'the work' first, God would take care of their children." (After all, what is the work—God's work—for a young mother?) God does not always work miracles to deliver us from the consequences of our mistakes. The wife of our General
Director had also solemnly warned me along this line shortly after I arrived in China. So this was the second warning.
I felt that this was the voice of the Lord to me; especially as I had already felt that before God I was surely more responsible for the souls that I brought into existence than for those that someone else did! And now I had The Ticklish Question | answered only in the theoretical aspect, viz. the child's spiritual welfare must take precedence over everything else. But that did not | answer where Kathryn should get her education.
Chefoo, the famous C.I.M. School for its missionaries' children, _ was in a beautiful and healthful spot by the seashore, with all
— i Be
THE TICKLISH QUESTION
I25_ Kinds of recreation (land and water) available. It was staffed by 'missionaries whose educational qualifications were of the best.
_ Besides, their supreme concern was the spiritual care of their ~ pupils. The majority of the children were able to see their parents
_ at least once a year, usually going home for a prolonged Christ_ mas holiday. Parents in faraway pioneer places, where travel took so much time, were expected to call the children to them only once in two years. That this was lengthened more than once was
_ usually due to the vicissitudes of war—it was not the purpose of _ the C.I.M. Our own girlie was separated from us for six years at one stretch because of the Japanese war, when the Japanese interned her with her school. Though they never captured us, we, of course, were not able to get to her. She was satisfied, however, that the separation was not anything that we could help. _
To me the all important thing is that the child be convinced of the unwavering love of Daddy and Mummy, convinced that nobody or nothing in the work would ever compete in the ts' affections. If the little heart is convinced of this it will snuggle down and gain the sense of security a child needs.
But if the parents do not write regularly—what is the child to think? Even if the child shows little interest in the parents' letters (often preferring to play), the fact that the love-words have come as usual gives an unconscious satisfaction.
Also the child naturally expects that the parents will make every effort possible to see him or have him home for holidays.
Parents, ossed in their work, may not-realize how their child counts = ei If the parents were supremely concerned about him such an opportunity, no matter how inconvenient, could hardly be If the child is assured that the parents love him only second to the Lord Himself, then that child can take a painfully lengthened
"Separation and not be downcast; faith will not be shaken.
So we ourselves had come to the conclusion that the C.I.M. way was the way for us. Now came the preparation of the child's heart. We did not spring it on Kathryn. When I told her that ame School meant "lots and lots of children to play with" she
her hands in anticipation and joy. In every possible wa a build up a love foe Chefoo vith she ever went. I think
ONE VISION ONLY
this is important. Children catch "'attitudes" from their parents.
If the parent is secretly rebellious and critical the child will sense it and there is little possibility that the child will fit in happily, no matter how the teachers try to help him. We prayed continually that Kathy would be happy at Chefoo School, sincerely desiring what our lips asked of God. (She was!)
Since Kathryn had passed her sixth birthday while on this our | first furlough, we faced putting her in Chefoo School as soon as | we returned. But on the eve of our departure the war with Japan (1937) broke out and Chefoo waters were declared too dangerous for us. An alternative was to take her to Yunnan and put her in our Inter-Mission School. Her aunt, Kathryn Kuhn
Harrison, lived in Kunming and our Kathy could board with her and her husband.
So we sailed from Vancouver, having to go to Japan first and then trans-ship to Hongkong. This took some ted of course, and in the meantime, as war tensions relaxed, it was found that Butterfield & Swire ships were going safely between Hongko and Chefoo. The Mission then decided to call Miss Grace Lidde from Yunnan temporarily to fill a place on the Chefoo staff. And as she would be trans-shipping at Hongkong the same time the Kuhn family would, it was planned that she escort Kathryn to Chefoo. So, on our arriving at Hongkong where we had expected to trans-ship to Hanoi together as a family, a telegram was handed to me before ever we disembarked. It read something like this: "Liddell will escort Kathryn Kuhn to Chefoo from Hongkong." And Miss Liddell herself came out in a launch to meet us and told us gently that the ship was due to leave "three days from now."
It was a severe shock to me because I was so unprepared for it.
I had been making plans in my mind to put Kathy into the small school in Kunming, which would be so much nearer to us. After receiving the telegram I went down into our cabin to get Kathy ready. She was asleep in the top bunk, her pretty curly lashes dark against the soft pink cheeks. As I pee and gazed ather the thought came, "You will never again have the joy of caring' for her, watching her grow and develop," I was pierced to the' depths. A little box of Bible promises lay on the bed table.
I seized it and cried in my heart, "Oh God, speak to me!" and \
THE TICKLISH QUESTION
drew out Ecclesiastes 11:1, "Cast thy bread upon the waters: for thou shalt find it after many days."' I felt it was His voice saying,
"Cast thy child upon mz. I will take good care of her and after ~ many days thou shalt have her back again, more securely yours in _ heart and spirit than ever she was in mere flesh." I cannot tell you
_ how it comforted me. I clung to it. But because I continually dwelt on what I was losing ("This is the last time I give her her bath, the last time I buckle on her sandals, the last time I comb her hair," etc.), I was in torture. Never can I forget the agony of those hours in Hongkong when we said goodbye and after the ship pulled out.
Miss Liddell was everything I could have wished and more, and long before they reached Chefoo Kathryn had learned to love her like an "own" aunt. It meant that at Chefoo, among the staff, there was one who was like a mother to her, one who was familiar and "brought familiar comforting."
As for me, John's kindness and patience is a memory for which 'I can never cease to bless God. For the twenty-four hours after Kathryn left and before our own ship was due to leave, he the streets with me. He never even seemed to weary. He just stayed with me until I was so physically exhausted I could lie down and drop into oblivion. How grateful I was and am for that patience and indulgence, only the Lord knows! I was wrong to get distraught, and the Lord Himself was going to deal with me about it. But I was quictly indulged until the time that I could bear correction. As I look back on it now, I am completely satisfied with the Lord's choosing and working.
Just before the calamity of capture by the Japanese, little daughter had a spiritual experience which prepared her to take it Victoriously. Only God could have arranged that! And only He could have planned that our beloved Mrs. J. O. Fraser, with her three daughters, was interned along with Kathryn and ~"mothered" her during those days of scarce mail and prolonged
_ Separation from us.1
__ 1 In internment camp for long months Kathy's mail had not been "delivered to her, but once free again aboard the Gripsholm, a Red Cross gent handed her a pack of letters from her parents. Tearing them open made a thrilling discovery: she had a baby brother! By that time, to $s amazement, Danny was already six months old! C.C.
ONE VISION ONLY
Kathryn was repatriated on the second mercy trip of the Gripsholm and took notice of the preserving care of God for them on their long trip round by India and South America.
The Gripsholm had a lighted cross at the top of the ship and it seemed to thedittle twelve-year-old a symbol of the presence of Christ, leading and protecting them.
Arriving in America, she was taken into the home of George and Magdalene Sutherland, of the C.ILM. Home Staff in Philadelphia. And she was cared for like a daughter until we could return from China ourselves. The Sutherlands were friends of ours since Moody days and they acted as Kathryn's foster-parents.
In the goodness of God to us after our second furlough I was with Kathryn nearly two years before leaving again for another term in China. The Japanese war had left communications and travel so disrupted that women and children were not allowed back immediately, which lengthened my normal furlough span.
When we left her she was again taken into the Sutherlands' home and during the difficult high-school years she had their love and guidance to help her.
In 19501 was back with her. The Communist turn-over had occurred, and I had taken Danny and fled out through Burma.
John stayed behind to help the church. By this time Kathy was in Wheaton College, so we made for Wheaton. Again the Lord prolonged my stay with her into two years. I was a year and a half waiting for John to be released from China and then he needed a six months' rest before our arduous pioneer work in Thailand. But God had seen to it that our girlie had her mother during the last two important college years.
So "'the ticklish question" of how to educate our daughter was solved step by step as it was submitted to Him. We had had long separations, but we had also had two years continual living together twice over.
Just before we sailed for Thailand in 1952 we saw Kathy off for the Aldrich home while she took a course in the Multnomah
Bible School in Portland, Oregon.
Kathy wanted some experience of life in the business world without the shelter of a Christian home, so she accepted a teaching post at Grass Valley, Oregon. By the end of that year she knew God wanted her on the mission field. So the next time she
ie "THE TICKUSH QUESTION
et, 'our Kathy was an accepted candidate of the China $ 'Mission. Out on the field in North Thailand she met
- Don Rulison, M.A. and Master of Forestry, and they became parton and were married.
And so we all concluded "As for God, his way is perfect."