August, 1937
T H E K I N G ' S B U S I N E S S
299
Courtesy, Board of Tourist Industry Japanese Government Railways
Jinsaburo Lifts His Cross By OPAL LEONORE GIBBS
PART I J insaburo M eets T emptation A pril 10, T okyo C ity E ven if I journey not to America or to anywhere on this terrestrial globe, it is a good thing, I suppose, to con tinue my English Journal. Indeed, speaking candidly, I feel an attachment for the work of its writing. But it is now long interim since the completion of my college studies, so perhaps I am advancing backwards in the English language. Well, if such be the case, my good Journal can but snigger at my idiosyncrasies. But English language does appear backwards to me sometimes. It seems strange that I must sign my name Jinsaburo Tajima, family name last, to be American in manner of writing. We have again finished the “ Christmas” of Gautama Buddha, and a great celebra- [“ Jinsaburo” is a Japanese youth whom the author, a missionary in Japan for many years, knows very well.- In “ Jinsaburo’s Journal” and “Jinsaburo Speaks His Mind,” two narratives which appeared serially in T he K ing ’ s B usiness in 1933 and 1936, Mrs. Gibbs described the winning to Christ of a young student in Japan and related his subsequent struggles and victories in 'beginning to tell others about his Saviour. For the diary that bears this young man’s name, Mrs. Gibbs again has chosen inci dents that give a true picture of Japanese life, and she writes in a style of English typical of a Japanese university student who has majored in English. “Jinsaburo" will continue his story in several other issues of T he K ing ’ s B usiness .— E ditor .]
tion stages in this city. We beheld the image of the Buddha in its gold and lacquer shrine with long processions, as we wended our way to Uncle’s shop. At the large intersection streets, it stopped, and when curtains lifted, all could view and worship the unmoving god. Over all Japan, Buddhist temples are now replete with holy pilgrims who ladle the sweetened tea over the images of the Budda. I inquired of Uncle why such is done, and he reply that when Gautama was born, a rain of sweet dew fell upon the earth. Thousands of school children have sung and danced in the honor of this god, but I consider in my mind that they are not so happy as Chris tian children whose Patron is alive. A pril 15 Today has been the perfect weather of great Japan and also of my soul. Many rains have fell on that soul since it became Christian, but today my black clouds were blown afar. It was bountiful experience, and now my heart throbs strangely to re call of it. Firstly, this morning I read as ever in God’s Book before going to assist Uncle’s fan shop on Ginza street. Usually always, I read of Lord Christ in New Testament, but today I opened on a whim to first part of Bible and read some of Jo seph. It was a good story and I felt a kinsman feeling for his white character with the officer’s wife. No doubt she was most beautiful woman, but Joseph looked not at her at all. I thought upon this story as the tram carried us onward. Arrived at Uncle’s shop, I arranged fans as possible, dusting and spreading. A few ladies came to view and some were sold. It was near evening when very beautiful girl entered and sat down on matting step by the fans and me.
She was dressed in American style, though not as Mrs. Stuart McEdward, the mis sionary whom I have acquainted. Her lips were very very red and she leaned to me with laughing words. Oh, she was en ticing sweet and I wished to smile with her only a little. Then I remember Jo seph. So with stern and dignity, I rose and stalked from her to rear of shop. My ears caught the sound of Mrs. Potiphar’s high heels hitting the floor as she departed, per haps in high dudgeons. I felt God had given me strong pure soul like Sir Gala- had of King Arthur. But is it not a remarkable coinciding that I should for first time read of Joseph only this morning? A pril 20 At last the cherry blossoms have come! They are truly “Pinks and pearls diaphanous, and melting glory.” As I walk beneath those in our suburb, I remember Japanese proverb which says, “Among flowers, the cherry; among men, the soldier,” and I remember my soldier father who has died. Uncle granted me a grumbling holiday from tomorrow, so tonight I strolled to the home of my friend, Matsu Chan, with brain staggering joyously under a new plot. He agreed heartily as he ever does with me, for he is so good a friend always. T o gether we set forth then to the home of Mr. McEdward, the foreigner who teaches us weekly Bible. Mrs. McEdward met us wel- comingly at the door, and we could not re sist to remove our shoes and enter. Why is the missionary’s house always so warm and unhampered a place? It must be since Lord Jesus lives there very much. Their small son, who is called Taylor,
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