MISSIONARY
STORIES
JAPAN
Following Christ
For the Honor of the School
Transformed by a Picture
Tomi's Prayer
HIDEO, a little Japanese servant,
and his American master sat talking one day in the doctor's office in Japan.
The man was much interested in the boy because he was so faithful, and also
because he had recently found that the boy was secretly hoping to be able to
go to school and finally to become a doctor—perhaps to be able to study in the
great school in America where the doctor had studied. Thinking he had made his
decision, as many other boys do, because he lived in the house with a man whom
he admired, the physician said to him:
"Hideo, why do you want to be a
doctor? You know that takes many years of study, and you have only just begun.
"I know, sir," said the boy, "but
I want to try to be one just the same."
"But you haven't answered my
question, Hideo," said the doctor. "Just why do you want to be a doctor?"
"Well," said the boy, "you know I
am a Christian. I want to be like Christ, as much as I can, when I get big. He
went about doing good. He gave his life for other people. I think I can best
be like him if I am a doctor, for they go about doing good, too. So I want to
be a doctor."
"That's a good reason, Hideo,"
said the doctor, "and if that is your reason, I feel quite sure you will
succeed, if you can get an education."
One day, many weeks later, the
doctor and Hideo were taking dinner in a foreign restaurant in that Japanese
city. Suddenly there came a heavy rumbling noise.
"What is that?" cried the doctor,
trying to look of the window.
Immediately there came a cracking
and a roaring and snapping. Screams came from the building and street and
confusion was everywhere. It was the day of the dreadful Japanese earthquake.
At the first shaking of the walls
of the restaurant the doctor and Hideo tried to make their way out of the
room, but they could not get through. Seeing it was useless to try any longer,
they hurried back to the table, where they had been sitting and dove under it
as fast as they could. Almost before they were safe, the walls of the room
came crashing down, covering the table, and piling up debris on the sides
until the two were all inclosed, with the broken beams and the heavy plaster.
Soon it became hard to breathe,
and the doctor, realizing the mass of debris that had fallen about them, said:
"Hideo, I think we are lost. If
we try to get out, we shall only pull more debris upon our heads. That was an
earthquake. God help us! I do not think we can live until they find us."
"Let me try to get out, Doctor,"
begged the boy. "See! I found myself with my knife and fork in my hand. With
them I can dig a little hole through, and perhaps we can escape."
The boy immediately began pulling
away the plaster which was before him. The dust choked him and it was hard to
breathe, but finally he had a little hole through. Larger and larger it grew
until he could crawl on into an open space and begin to dig there, leaving the
doctor to crawl out of the hole which he had already made. '
When the second hole was almost
big enough for Hideo to crawl through, he could see beyond a larger space out
of which they could get to freedom—but he could also see a fire which had
started near by. Furiously the boy dug with his two utensils, knowing that
their only hope lay in getting through before the fire came nearer.
When the doctor had worked his
way through the first hole and saw the fire ahead of them, he cried, quickly:
"Hideo, you must leave me to get
out if I can. The hole is large enough now for you to get through and you can
be saved. If you stay, we shall both probably lose our lives. Please go
quickly."
But the boy only shook his head.
"I couldn't do that, sir," he answered. "I think we can both get out," and he
dug on.
Soon he wormed his way through
the hole, broke away more plaster and boards with his hands, which were all
torn and bleeding, and then called:
"Quick, Doctor! Push your way
through. You can make it if you push hard. I'll help you," and he reached out
and pulled the doctor through the small hole. In doing so, the sleeve of his
kimona somehow touched a bit of flame that was near the hole, and in a moment
the boy was all ablaze. The doctor quickly extinguished the flame with his
coat, and then carried him to the street, where others helped to get him into
a place of safety. But it was too late. Hideo was horribly burned, and he had
used all the strength that he had in trying to get out of the debris. He was
too tired to win the battle for his life.
Burned and suffering though he
was, he opened his eyes at last to find that his doctor was safe, and then a
beautiful smile spread over his face. He had done what he had hoped to do some
day. He had given his life for another. He had followed the Christ, even unto
death.
"REMEMBER, boys," said one of the
teachers of Doshisha, a well-known Mission School in Japan, as they were
getting ready for a short vacation, "the honor of our school does not depend
upon the beautiful buildings, which we have, nor upon the large number of
students who come here. It depends upon everyone who has been, or is, a
student here. People judge a school by what they see of its product. You must
live right and act right if you want to be an honor to the Doshisha."
As the boys went from the chapel,
they discussed what the man had said and wondered how many people really cared
what a boy did.
Nearly a year later a big group
of the Doshisha boys ran into a little eating-house on Lake Biwa in Japan.
They quickly ordered their food and ate it with much good fun and laughter.
Then they left a pile of coins in the center of each table and hurried away.
Soon the woman who was in charge of the room came to clear the tables. She
gathered the money into her hand and carried it to the till, dropping it in
without counting it. After she had finished her work at the tables where the
boys had sat, she came to serve a man who had been sitting at an adjacent
table.
"That was a jolly bunch of boys,"
he said. "Who are they?"
"They are from a Mission School
across the mountain," was the reply. "They often run in for a bite to eat."
"I saw you drop the money which
they left into the drawer without counting it," said the man. "How dare you
trust a group of boys like that? Don't they ever cheat you?”
"Why, those are Christian boys
from the Doshisha," said the woman. "We never bother to count their money, for
they do not cheat. We like to have them come here because we can trust them."
The man was much interested, so
he asked her many questions about the Mission School, but she could tell him
little except that the teachers and students seemed different from other
groups that came into the tea-room, and that the school was supported by
Christians in America.
"I must know more about it," said
the man. "A school that can turn out boys with a reputation like that is worth
studying."
So the stranger went to a
Christian evangelist in his town to ask about the Doshisha, and as the
evangelist explained about the life of Christ on which the ideals and
standards of the school were based, the man became more and more interested in
the Bible, where the story of that life was to be found. He bought several
books to take with him as he went to his home, in order that he might study
more of the Christian religion. In time he became a Christian and a worker in
the Japanese churches.
The evangelist, realizing that
the actions of the boys had been the cause of the interest of the stranger,
sent word to the Doshisha of the incident in the tea-room, and of the
compliment which the woman there had paid to Doshisha boys.
"You see, boys," said the
teacher, when he heard the story, "it is just as I told you. The reputation of
school depends upon the actions of everyone who is, or has been, a student
here. People judge a school by what they see of its product. The boys who ate
in that tea-room were an honor to the school."
HE WAS only twenty-five years of
age, yet he had been in jail three times, and he was listed in police records
of Japan as a sailor, anarchist, communist and a dangerous criminal. His third
term had just been completed and he wandered aimlessly about the streets of
the villages of northern Japan, hoping that some one would give him work so
that he could earn an honest living. His jail terms had made him very
self-conscious, and he felt sure that those to whom he spoke, and those whom
he passed, must know that he was branded as a criminal. He wanted to do
better; he was sure he could do better. But who would help him?
One day, when he had nothing
better to do, he stepped into a picture-shop and began turning over the
disorderly pile of prints which were laid on the counter, for Koga San enjoyed
looking at pictures. As he laid one after another on a new pile, he suddenly
found a beautiful fill copy of Millet's "First Steps," the peasant mother,
teaching her little one to walk. For a long time he stood with the picture in
his hands, silently looking at it. Then the tears began to run down his
cheeks.
"I am a grown man," he said to
himself, "but I have never yet learned to walk spiritually and morally. I am a
little child. I need some one to take my hand help me to stand erect like a
man. Who will help me?”
With the small amount of money
which he had in pocket he bought the picture, and then he went out into the
street. Where could he go? He had no home, and only a few friends. Probably
they would not care to help him or believe in him. At last he thought of a
Christian friend whom he had known for many years—a man who had talked with
him once about his wicked life and had offered to try to help him. At that
time Koga San had repulsed him rudely, but now he wondered if perhaps this
Christian friend would not be forgiving and willing to show him what to do in
order to live a better life.
In humility of soul Koga San went
to the home of his friend, ready to abase himself, but his friend understood
as soon as he looked at Koga San, and he welcomed him to his home. Together
they talked about the picture which had made such an impression on Koga San,
and of the Christian way of life.
"We need help," his friend said,
"not only for the first steps, but all through the journey of life" Then from
his own good collection of pictures he chose a copy of the thorn-crowned
Christ suffering for others, and he handed it to the young man, at the same
time returning the copy of "First Steps" by Millet which Koga San had shown
him. "You will need them both to aid you in the New Way in which you have
chosen to go," he said
Koga San went back to his lonely
room with a new vision, a new purpose, and a new desire. He soon became a
sincere Christian. He found work, and after a time he married a charming,
educated Christian girl. Soon they began their new home in a town in northern
Japan. Both joined the native church and began to serve others.
But Koga San wanted most of all
to help young boys so that they would not do wrong as he had done. Finally he
and his wife decided to open their home for a little kindergarten for the
under-privileged children of their neighborhood.
It was a success from the start,
and soon more room was necessary. Then the government, which had once been
trying to keep him in jail, was ready to invest money in the kindergarten,
and, together with the parents the children and other friends, they made it
possible him to rent a building in which one large and three small rooms could
be used for the thirty-five children of the school. There Mr. and Mrs. Koga,
with Mrs. Koga’s sister, still care for the children and teach them to take
their first steps in the Christian Way. Their school and their home, where two
little boys of their own are learning to walk, both radiate a fine Christian
spirit in community in which they live.
On the walls of the guest-room in
Mr. Koga's home hang two pictures that are more prized by Mr. Koga than any of
the many other beautiful prints which he owns. One is a picture of "First
Steps" by Millet, and the other is a head of the thorn-crowned Christ. They
were good friends to him once; they helped him when he sorely needed a friend.
JUST outside the gate of the
little Japanese town was the shrine of the Kishibojin god, and every morning,
often before it was light, a girl of twenty could be seen throwing herself
before the god in earnest prayer. Sometimes she poured cold water over her
body as she prayed; sometimes she cut off strands of her hair and offered them
to the god. Tomi Kagata felt that she must have the answer to her prayer, so
she tried in every way she knew to make the god hear her. Still her prayer was
not answered.
Each day, when her prayer was
over, she would leave the shrine, go to the factory, work hard all day, and
then go home to care for an invalid father and two small children. Tomi was
always tired, even in the morning when she went to pray.
Things had not always been so
hard. Her mother had died when she was just a little girl, but she had had an
elder brother who was kind and who cared for the home. Then her father was
taken ill and her brother began to do many things that were not right. He
drank, and was ugly when he came home. Finally, when he had struck a
policeman, he ran away from home to get rid of paying a fine, leaving his wife
and two small children to be supported. Soon his wife ran away also, and so
Toni had her father and the children to care for.
For what was she praying so
earnestly? She was praying that her brother might become a good man, and
return home to make the last days of his father happy ones.
It seemed as if the Kishibojin
god might give her this one request. At last she decided that she must make
the promise which was the last resort of those who prayed. After she had made
her routine for prayer and sacrifices one day, she said to the god:
"And if you will make my brother
a good man, I offer up before your shrine both body and soul."
But the brother did not come
home, and still Tomi prayed.
One night Tomi was invited to go
to a meeting which was being held for the factory girls by visiting
missionaries. She listened spellbound as the missionary told of the Saviour,
the Loving Friend who cares for all our sorrows. She thought of her brother
and wished this Great Friend could help her to find him. She longed to have
some one care for her.
The next night Tomi again went to
the meeting, soon she was so much interested in Christianity that she would
have asked the missionaries how she could become a Christian except for one
thing—her vow to the Kishibojin god. What would the god do to her if she did
not fulfill her vow? Could she forsake the god? Had she not promised to give
body and soul to him when her brother came home?
Yet as she reasoned with herself,
she found herself wondering why the god had not answered her prayer. Perhaps
he did not want her body and soul. Perhaps she did not please him. It was a
baffling problem.
One day she went to a Christian
Japanese pastor ask him what to do. She told him of her hard home life of the
unhappiness of her father, and the wickedness her brother. She told him how
many things she had done to please the Kishibojin god and of the final vow she
made.
The pastor listened to her story
and then said that he had come to see that an idol could not answer prayer,
and that he felt she could become a Christian and still pray for her brother.
For many days Tomi thought the matter over, afraid to leave the idol god, yet
eager to know more of Christ. Finally she made her decision and a great new
happiness came into her life as she was baptized and joined the church, and
her new friends in that church joined her in praying for the lost brother.
One day, not many weeks later,
word came that her brother had been found, that he had tried to commit suicide
when he had been trapped by the police, and that he was very ill. Tomi went to
him; she was kind to him; and as soon as he could be moved she brought him
back to the home again. He paid his debt to the police. He stopped drinking.
And at last he began going to the Christian church with Tomi, having made up
his mind to be a better father to his little children.
In the town where Tomi lived,
people had noticed that the girl, whom they had long admired because of her
fine spirit when things were so hard, was becoming more beautiful in
character. Little by little the story of her change from the god by the gate
to the Christiana God became known, and the villagers watched to see if the
new god would bring her brother home, When he finally returned, changed his
ways, and joined the church, they felt that a miracle had happened, and they
wanted to know more of this new faith. So Tomi became the center of a new
interest in Christianity.
Several years have passed by
since she became a Christian. She found that she was not content to be
ignorant, for she wanted to give the Bible to others; so she began to study.
She asked to be allowed to work for her board in one of the Mission schools so
that she could study the Bible in her spare time, and that is what she is
doing in order to get ready to serve the Master whom she learned to love so
well.
"If God wants my life, he will
supply my needs," Tomi said to her friend. "God answers prayers, as I well
know, and now I am praying for an education."
WORLD MISSIONARY TOC
|