From J. Hudson Taylor's Thoughts
The Scottish physician and his family had left an English port for Shanghai already. I shouldered the burden to find them housing.
August was as hot and humid as a sauna. No one in their right mind went outdoors during the hottest part of the day. Because my responsibility to find a place for the physician family, I had to. I went through every street in the city searching for a home to rent. The war ripped apart most houses, residents occupied anything left.
I went past the north gate of the city and found a surprise. A vacant home available to be rented. My my. It had five rooms upstairs and seven room downstairs. All right, it wasn't in that good condition, but it had four walls and a ceiling.
Before a month passed, I moved into the rental home and prepared rooms for the Scottish physician's family. I hired Chinese workers to paint, remove trash, and fix doors.
For some unexplainable reason, the landlord and people around me didn't bother to say the house stood outside the protection of the city. Imperialists kept a cannon aimed at the house.
Gun fire flew over my head. Had the bullet fallen even on inch I would be dead. The imperialist threatened to burn the street to get me to leave.
I wrote a letter home: If you hear of my being killed or injured, do not think it a pity that I came to China, but thank God I was permitted to distribute some Scriptures and tracts and to speak a few words in broken Chinese for Him who died for me.
Yes, I was humanly frightened, but Christ-like trusting.
My Mandarin tutor who help me while living in the city refused to come to the new home outside the city. "Its too dangerous."
I hired a native man, Mr. Si to teach me the Shanghai dialect. Speaking Mandarin would be helpful, but speaking words understood by the Shanghai people would be better. Little did I know God sent me Mr. Si, I discovered he was a Christian!
He soon told the native people I had medical training. Patients trusted his word and came to my door for help. I also started a school for children with Mr. Si. He taught the children and I did other duties.
Mr. Si and I went into the city to give New Testaments and Christian booklets.
This does not mean the home I rented became safe. Oh, no. Far from it. But that story will wait until next time. For this time, I wanted to share God's blessings: when I had no money, no place to live, unable to speak the language, and felt . . . like a burden to everyone, God gave me a vacant home (in a dangerous place), and Mr. Si, a Christian native.
J. Hudson Taylor
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