Page 9 - Malayan Story
P. 9
MALAYAN STORY
CHAPTER 1 PARTING
“Mummy, why does Daddy have to go?” The plaintive little voice brought me back with a start.
My thoughts had been centred on the solitary figure standing on the deck of the great ocean liner
which was not almost out of sight. The ship passed under the bridge and turned towards Sydney
Heads on the first stage of the long journey to Singapore. Sensing Percy’s loneliness, and trying to
fight down my own dread of the year of separation which lay ahead of us, I had almost forgotten the
children and that they were feeling it too.
I glanced at the three boys, each in his own way, Frank at 12, Alan at 14 and Raymond at16, trying
to put on a show of carelessness and indifference to cover what lay deep in their hearts. Then I
looked at Dorothy, who was not even trying to cover up – just to understand. How do I explain to a
nine year old the “Why?” of the life of faith? I put my arm around her, trying to reassure my own
heart too as I said, “Darling, I don’t know why. I only know this is what God wants us to do, and
because we love Him, we must.”
In the year that followed I too asked “Why?” many times. I was trying to cope alone with bringing
up of four children in Australia, while their father struggled with the responsibilities of beginning a
new work in post war Malaya.
We had been in Sydney for two and a half years since leaving China. They were busy years. Percy
was the Secretary for the Mission in NSW and I was in charge of the Mission Home at Stanmore, a
home which was always full of interesting guests. This was also our home and Percy’s office.
Missionary work in China was rapidly closing down, and ship after ship coming into Sydney
Harbour brought members of our Mission home to Australia or New Zealand. Percy was kept busy
meeting ships and planes, arranging passages for those going on to New Zealand, or booking train
seats to other parts of Australia.
Some guests stayed with us for longer periods, others for only a night, or just for a few hours. Some
were glad to be out of China where they were no longer free; others were sad and depressed because
they feared that they would never again see the country they loved and had made their own. On
occasions we took care of some of our missionaries’ children until their parents too were out of
China, and we rejoiced when our own boys were safely home from the Chefoo School in Guling,
now under communist control.
They were busy, happy, interesting years, but underneath was always the thought “What next?” God
had called us to be missionaries to the Chinese people, and when we went to China in 1931 we
thought it was for life. Now, twenty years later, we were still only in our mid-forties, and we felt
strongly that this time in Sydney was just an interim. Our call had been so clearly to the Chinese
people, and China was now closed to missionary work. What was God’s plan?
A letter from the General Director of the China Inland Mission, Mr JO Sanders, written at the close
of a conference of CIM directors in England, gave us the answer we had been looking for. His
invitation from the directors was for Percy to go to Malaya as the first Superintendent of a new work
in a new field for the Mission. Sir Gerald Templar, the High Commissioner for Great Britain in
Malaya, was opening the door wide for missionaries who spoke the Chinese language, to go and
work in “New Villages” which were being created and were populated mainly by Chinese people, in
an attempt by the Government to counteract communist guerrilla influence.
As we read the letter together, there was very little conflict in our reactions to it. It was almost as if
9
CHAPTER 1 PARTING
“Mummy, why does Daddy have to go?” The plaintive little voice brought me back with a start.
My thoughts had been centred on the solitary figure standing on the deck of the great ocean liner
which was not almost out of sight. The ship passed under the bridge and turned towards Sydney
Heads on the first stage of the long journey to Singapore. Sensing Percy’s loneliness, and trying to
fight down my own dread of the year of separation which lay ahead of us, I had almost forgotten the
children and that they were feeling it too.
I glanced at the three boys, each in his own way, Frank at 12, Alan at 14 and Raymond at16, trying
to put on a show of carelessness and indifference to cover what lay deep in their hearts. Then I
looked at Dorothy, who was not even trying to cover up – just to understand. How do I explain to a
nine year old the “Why?” of the life of faith? I put my arm around her, trying to reassure my own
heart too as I said, “Darling, I don’t know why. I only know this is what God wants us to do, and
because we love Him, we must.”
In the year that followed I too asked “Why?” many times. I was trying to cope alone with bringing
up of four children in Australia, while their father struggled with the responsibilities of beginning a
new work in post war Malaya.
We had been in Sydney for two and a half years since leaving China. They were busy years. Percy
was the Secretary for the Mission in NSW and I was in charge of the Mission Home at Stanmore, a
home which was always full of interesting guests. This was also our home and Percy’s office.
Missionary work in China was rapidly closing down, and ship after ship coming into Sydney
Harbour brought members of our Mission home to Australia or New Zealand. Percy was kept busy
meeting ships and planes, arranging passages for those going on to New Zealand, or booking train
seats to other parts of Australia.
Some guests stayed with us for longer periods, others for only a night, or just for a few hours. Some
were glad to be out of China where they were no longer free; others were sad and depressed because
they feared that they would never again see the country they loved and had made their own. On
occasions we took care of some of our missionaries’ children until their parents too were out of
China, and we rejoiced when our own boys were safely home from the Chefoo School in Guling,
now under communist control.
They were busy, happy, interesting years, but underneath was always the thought “What next?” God
had called us to be missionaries to the Chinese people, and when we went to China in 1931 we
thought it was for life. Now, twenty years later, we were still only in our mid-forties, and we felt
strongly that this time in Sydney was just an interim. Our call had been so clearly to the Chinese
people, and China was now closed to missionary work. What was God’s plan?
A letter from the General Director of the China Inland Mission, Mr JO Sanders, written at the close
of a conference of CIM directors in England, gave us the answer we had been looking for. His
invitation from the directors was for Percy to go to Malaya as the first Superintendent of a new work
in a new field for the Mission. Sir Gerald Templar, the High Commissioner for Great Britain in
Malaya, was opening the door wide for missionaries who spoke the Chinese language, to go and
work in “New Villages” which were being created and were populated mainly by Chinese people, in
an attempt by the Government to counteract communist guerrilla influence.
As we read the letter together, there was very little conflict in our reactions to it. It was almost as if
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