“But, dear,” Jonathan replied tenderly, “they will be safe in the Lord’s keeping because I’m sure it’s He who is leading us to take this step. The safest place for our children is in the path of duty.”
“I don’t care. The children and I are not going with you, and that’s final,” Rosalind said. “I can’t go through that again, and you shouldn’t ask me to.”
Jonathan did not know what to do. This was definitely an unexpected response.
Chapter 11
I Will Trust You
As much as Jonathan pleaded, he could not convince his wife to join in his new plan. This made him sad. He did not want to lose another child any more than Rosalind did, but he was convinced that no child of his would die if they all followed his new plan, which he was certain was God’s new direction for them.
The Goforth family returned to Changte, where everyone, especially Mrs. Cheng, was excited to see them. Ruth still remembered how the old woman had saved her life during the Boxer Rebellion. Jonathan watched with dismay, however, as Rosalind put her plan to protect the three little children from infectious diseases into action. Rosalind had obviously had a lot of time to think about it while in Canada. She decided to give up most of her evangelizing work so that she could look after the children herself. There would be no more Chinese nannies, and on the odd occasion when it was necessary for Mrs. Cheng to watch over the children, she would be under strict instructions not to take them out of the house and definitely not to allow them to mix with Chinese children.
Rosalind’s new plan greatly concerned Jonathan, though he understood that his wife was still grieving over the loss of Florence and believed she was doing the right thing to protect the other children.
Despite Rosalind’s best efforts to shield the children from disease, two-year-old Wallace came down with dysentery. Rosalind became frantic and immediately sent for the mission doctor. Thankfully, Wallace was a tough little boy, and he did not die.
Once Jonathan could see that his son would live, he left Rosalind and the children behind in Changte and set off to open the first of his mission outstations. It was a successful month. Everything went better than Jonathan could have imagined, with two exceptions: There was no organ music for the services and no one to talk to the women.
By the time he left to return to Changte, Jonathan was hoping Rosalind had changed her mind and would come with him next time. However, he was not prepared for the news that awaited him when he got back to the mission compound. By now Wallace had made a full recovery, but Constance lay deathly ill with the same disease. Her little body was limp and clammy, and she didn’t smile when she saw her father.
“How long has she been like this?” Jonathan asked, trying not to sound shocked by what he saw.
“Three days,” Rosalind replied. “The doctor comes every morning, but he says she is very young and has a particularly bad case.” Her voice trailed off, and she wiped a tear from her eye before she went on. “Oh, Jonathan, what else can we do? I can’t bear to lose another child.”
“We can only pray,” replied Jonathan with a sigh as he slipped to his knees. Rosalind joined him, and the two of them prayed for their baby daughter. When Jonathan opened his eyes, the child was not moving. He touched her forehead, which felt cold. “Rosalind, Constance has gone to a better place,” he told his wife gently.
Rosalind looked at her daughter and began to cry uncontrollably. Her body convulsed with deep sobs for several minutes. Finally, she bowed her head once more and prayed, the tears still streaming down her cheeks. “O God, it is too late for Constance,” she said, “but I will trust You. I will go where You want me to go, but please keep the rest of my children safe.”
The following day Constance was buried beneath the tree at the back of the compound beside her two sisters. The date was October 13, 1902. Had she survived, it would have been her first birthday.
After the funeral, Rosalind began packing. From now on, she promised Jonathan, she and the children would travel with him wherever he went.
Their first trip was to Wuan, a city about twenty miles from Changte along a potholed and winding road.
“Stop, stop!” yelled Jonathan yet again as they made their way towards Wuan. He was walking behind the first of three carts, the one his wife and children were riding in. A band of dedicated church workers was traveling in the second cart, while the third cart was loaded with their equipment for the evangelistic campaign.
The cart driver stopped and climbed down wearily, followed by Rosalind, four-year-old Ruth and two-year-old Wallace. They stood on the side of the road while the men in the group lined up across the back of the cart.
“On the count of three,” yelled Jonathan. “One, two, three, heave.”
Each man put his shoulder under the cart to help lift it off the ground, pushing it forward at the same time.
“It needs to go higher,” yelled Rosalind, and the men lifted the cart a little higher until it cleared the rock that had jammed under the back axle.
Rosalind and the children climbed back into the cart, which pulled forward a few feet while the men lifted the second and third carts over the same rock.
Progress was painfully slow, and the entire team was exhausted by the time they reached Wuan. No one, not even the children, had enough energy to eat, and as soon as they found lodging at an inn, they all collapsed onto a large k’ang. They slept soundly all night. When they awoke the next morning, they were covered with bruises and cuts from their journey. Jonathan wondered whether this rough start would lead his wife to change her mind about traveling with the children. She remained firm, however, assuring him that wherever he went she would follow him.
The travelers were just finishing breakfast the next morning when they heard a knock at the inn door. In walked a man escorted by three armed guards. The man, who was obviously a high-ranking official, bowed to Jonathan and Rosalind and introduced himself.
“Good morning,” he said. “I am Mr. Yen, the chief city official. I have come to pay you a visit.” Then he spotted the children and looked startled. “Surely you did not allow the children to travel from Changte in the carts I saw outside in the courtyard?” he asked. “I traveled that road only last month, and parts of it were nearly impassable.”
Jonathan looked at Mr. Yen. “We are happy to visit your town using any transportation available to us. As a family we have traveled many hundreds of miles in carts,” he said.
“Well, you will not come to my town in a cart again!” replied Mr. Yen indignantly. “No! No! Whenever you come here you must get word to me, and I will send my sedan chairs for you. You must also use them when you leave. If you do not accept my offer, I will take it as a great personal offense!”
Jonathan opened his mouth to protest, but Mr. Yen held up his hand. “No,” he said. “You will come to my town in my sedan chairs or not at all.”
Not wanting to insult Mr. Yen, Jonathan accepted his kind gesture, and the two men talked on for a while. The conversation proved to be most helpful. Mr. Yen suggested a place the group could rent for their evangelistic efforts. In return, Jonathan presented Mr. Yen with a Bible in Chinese.
Later that day, the group moved into their new “home.” The Goforths had one room to themselves, which Rosalind did her best to make as comfortable as possible for her family. First she tacked two blue cotton curtains to the rafters, the first around the k’ang and the second around a corner at the far end of the room so that Jonathan could use the space as his “private study.” Then she turned one windowsill into a dresser and the other into Jonathan’s bookshelf. After this, she and Jonathan dragged thin straw mattresses off the cart and placed them on the floor for the children to sleep on. Jonathan also dispatched the cook to buy bricks to make a fireplace. There was no need for a chimney, since the Chinese custom was to trap the smoke inside the house, only opening the door to let it out when it became difficult to breathe. Within an hour, the family was settled into its new home.
Once the family was organized, Jonathan turned his attention to the large room where the evening meetings were to be held. He and the Chinese evangelists plastered the walls with large banners that had Bible texts written on them. An area at the front of the room was marked off for the preaching platform, and a powerful lamp was strung over the spot. Next the hymn scroll was set up to the left of the platform. This was a long roll of white cotton fabric onto which were handwritten the words to fifteen simple hymns. The portable organ was placed on the right side of the platform. Once these details were taken care of, Jonathan sent everyone out to find as many chairs and benches as they could for people to sit on. By nightfall, everything was in place and ready for the meetings that would begin the next day.
The following morning, Jonathan followed the same routine he had for many years. He arose at 5 a.m. and exercised vigorously for fifteen minutes to wake himself up. Following this, with a pencil and notebook beside him, he began an hour and forty-five minutes of Bible study. He had notes for hundreds of different sermons and lessons he had already preached and taught, but he liked to study and preach on a fresh passage from the Bible every day. Following Bible study he ate breakfast promptly at seven o’clock, after which came family devotions. From eight to nine o’clock he held a Bible study and prayer meeting with the rest of his team of evangelists and helpers.
By ten past nine that morning, the team was fanning out to various promising preaching spots around Wuan, and Rosalind had set up the courtyard to receive any women who wanted to come to hear her speak.
After a full day of preaching, the evangelists would all meet back together for dinner and prepare for the evening service. This was always a lively event. A new hymn was taught to the crowd each night, and Jonathan would then preach for one last time that day.
Things in Wuan went well. Many Chinese people were astounded to see Europeans back in the area, especially after so many foreigners had been killed by the Boxers. “What would make you come back?” they asked. “What is so important that you would risk your lives to tell us?” Jonathan eagerly explained to them exactly what was so important as to bring him back to China: the need to share the gospel.
One day Mr. Yen paid another visit to the group. With a serious look on his face he took Jonathan aside. “You must answer me a question,” he said. “Tell me why this Bible you gave me has so much power. Before you gave it to me I often took money in exchange for rendering unjust decisions in court, but now it is very different. I read this book, and I find if I make an unjust decision I cannot sleep!”
Jonathan smiled and guided Mr. Yen by the arm. “Sit down, my friend, and I will tell you where its power comes from.”
By the end of the month there were over twenty new converts in Wuan, and many other people were interested in hearing more about the God the missionary and his helpers spoke of.
Chapter 12
Chang-san
For the next few years the Goforth family crisscrossed North Honan, preaching and teaching the Bible wherever they went. Every six months or so they would return to Changte to see how the work was getting along there. It was during one of these visits that Jonathan first laid eyes on Chang-san.
As he was speaking in an evening service at the Changte church, Jonathan noticed an intelligent-looking young man about twenty years old. At the end of the meeting, when he gave the invitation for those who wanted to know more about Christianity to go to a side room, the young man was one of the first to respond. When Jonathan saw this, he made his way through the crowd to talk to him. He asked where the young man was from and why he had come to the side room. The young man introduced himself as Chang-san and said he was visiting from the nearby village of Hsiwen. He had been drawn to the service by the cheerful singing.
