January, 1939
T H E K I N G ' S B U S I N E S S
15
Junior King's Business By MARTHA S. HOOKER
STRANDED O N A LONELY CHINESE ROAD B y E dith G. D reyer
Illustration by Mrs. F. L. Canfield heaven and earth . . . The Lord shall pre serve thee from all evil” (Psa. 121:2,7). Sheets of magazines were the only form of extra clothing possible to keep the pene trating damp and cold out, for this was an open bus. Mosquitoes busily did their best to help pass the night. The soft breeze of early dawn brought me the familiar and welcome “squish, squash” of my fellow pas sengers as they returned through the mud. What a sight greeted my eyes as in single file the twenty-one of them approached the bus! The dye in their clothes had run, giving them a more than bedraggled ap pearance, and they came, complaining loudly of a night spent first in drying their soaking clothes and finished by a free-for- all hunt for beds. The men were much sur prised to find me calm and unmolested and having had a comparatively uneventful night. Twenty men from the city, hangers- on, came with the passengers out of curi osity. All listened to the story I told of Him who had been with me that night. "He that keepeth thee will not slumber. Behold, he that keepeth” His own "shall neither slumber nor sleep” (Psa. 121:3, 4), They seemed awed to find me bright and cheerful, telling of an unseen Presence through the endless hours, though they could see that no sleep had been possible and that my food and water supply was low. The weather had cleared, and off we started, the passengers walking and giving the bus a “lift” every few yards when it stuck. After I had plodded along for eigh teen li (six miles), I climbed in, only to get
H AVE you ever been left all alone at night? Well, then, you know something of how I felt one night when I was 'way over in China. I was coming home from Chefoo, where I had been visiting my parents, and was traveling by bus to the nearest railroad which was 210 miles distant. Does that seem very far? It is when one is riding in a Chinese bus. The morning flew past delightfully. But by noon we had run into a downpour which made the roads impassable. For six long hours, twenty-two of us had to sit there in that bus, feeling like the proverbial sar dines in a can, but wishing that there were no elbows, or feet, or irritating smoke! As night was falling, all hope of getting to a village fled; so the twenty-one men took off their shoes and socks and went splashing through cornfields to the nearest city, which was ten li away. Now it takes three li to make one of our miles; so you see those men had to go through mud and rain for more than three miles. But, you may wonder, why were they so anx ious to go? Perhaps if you had been there, you would have been anxious, too, for those cornfields by the roadside would let Chi nese bandits hide very close to the bus. Fear lent wings to the feet of my Chinese fellow passengers. Two of them, however, turned back and suggested that I go along, but the thought of the deep mud, soaking feet and clothes, and above all, a small inn with probably no protection for a solitary girl, made me decide to stay in the bus. Near at hand was a tiny bus station, to which the station master, with a few assistants, moved all the bag gage from the bus, including my suitcase, money, and watch. They then securely locked their door and settled there for the night, leaving me in the bus—alone!
over, I realized how badly I might have been injured if the Lord had not protected my by "shading” the right side! It took forty men and two cows, all working to gether, to right the bus again. Shortly after this experience we stuck fast, and budge we could not. The driver walked back the twenty li and phoned the nearest large station, asking them to send another bus. But instead of a bus he re ceived a scolding and a blank refusal to his request, because he had "ruined twenty li of motor road”! He returned, wringing his hands and imploring us to "clear out” and not get him into more trouble. Then he disappeared—afraid of bandits, you know. The other men, too, fearing the same un welcome visitors, moved quickly. The bag gage was soon cleared out of the bus. The interested hangers-on, who had continued to follow us, hoping to make sorhe money, now for large sums undertook to carry the many odd-shaped bundles as far as the twenty li village which lay ahead of us. In the rush I remained unnoticed. As the last man disappeared in the distance; and as I looked about me at an empty bus and a lonely suitcase, a feeling of utter helpless ness gripped me. From whence did my help come? There was not a sign of life any where. I closed my eyes and lifted my heart to God with a silent cry for help. The answer came: "My help cometh from the Lord.” I opened my eyes, and there stood a man looking straight at me! He was carrying watermelons, and I learned that he was from the twenty li village be hind us. Why had he come that way just then? I know that my Keeper had guided his steps.
When the man saw my predica ment, he went back to the distant village to procure a donkey, and I settled down to a long, solitary wait. I tried to relieve my thirst by drinking some curdled black coffee which had been left over, and meanwhile the call of the birds made the silence more intense. Could I trust the word of this stranger? Would some one return? Suddenly, in the midst of my waiting, a tall, lanky, mulelike ani mal appeared, tossing its head and pawing the ground. A fleeting
But, as I sat there in the empty bus, stranded in the cornfields, ex pecting a visit from either bandits or thieves before morning, was I really alone? No, I was not alone. For, armed with a flash light and a copy of the Psalms I realized that there was Someone present. Every few minutes I flashed the light on to look again at Psa. 121. Of course I know it by heart, but it was surely a comfort to see the words, too! "My
out again two li farther on when we were upset, as the bus turned over on its side. As I lifted my bruised leg out, I thought of still other words in my Psalm, “He will not suffer thy foot to be moved: . . . The Lord is thy keeper: the Lord is thy shade upon thy right hand.” Truly He had kept me from slipping during the long muddy walk before I had climbed into the bus. And even after the bus had been tipped
help cometh from the Lord, which made [ When the boys and girls who read this story realize that the young missionary who tells o[ her adventure is very lame and yet has been able to make journeys alone in China, they will understand better how much the Lord did [or her on this trip. Miss Dreyer is a member of the China Inland Mission— E ditor ]
thought struck terror to my heart. Was I committing myself into the hands of con cealed bandits? Again the Psalm gave com fort and strength. The donkey driver want ed to make me agree to walk wherever the road was muddy. A glance ahead and then back at the restless donkey made me won der whether, after all, I would have to walk and leave my baggage to an uncertain fate on the donkey’s back. However, my bags
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