Falling Leaves

Less than a week after we arrived in America, she was already pounding the table, shouting: "Who invited you to come to America?"

By Ding Heng

Before we know it, we all grow old. But I still remember some of the things that happened to me as a child over forty years ago. When I was about seven, I used to follow my mother to the temple to burn incense. I was told that then the spirits would protect us and we would be prosperous. I remember a really horrible looking statue in the temple. The children didn't dare look at it. It was back at that time that I began to form my impression of gods. Later in my middle school days, I occasionally heard the name of Jesus, but that was all I knew.

When I first came to America, one of my neighbors invited me to go to church. "What goes on at church?" I asked. "You'll know when you get there. There is the wonderful love of Jesus Christ..." Curiosity conquered me and I went with him.

But after several visits to the South City Church in Chicago my curiosity diminished. Although the pastor and church members were all very zealous, I found the Bible terribly heavy and boring and I thought the churchgoers were hypocrites. Sometimes I felt moved, but the emotion quickly died away. I ran into the pastor a few times but despite his efforts to convince me, I never took his words seriously.

Then autumn came. As the wind blew by stirring up the dry leaves along the street I suddenly realized how accurately the scene was reflecting my own situation at that time. For me, too, there had once been green leaves adorning the branches; once there had been the charm and freshness of spring. All that was left now, however, were dead leaves that nobody cared about. And where would all the fallen leaves go eventually? As I raised my head I saw only strangers walking by. Then a lady came over and greeted me:

"I haven't seen you for ages. Where are you going?"

After the routine greetings, Mrs. Kwan gave me a sincere invitation to their church. She emphasised, "It's the day after tomorrow. Be sure to come to the Sunday service! I know you'll come..."

When the day came I hesitated again. To go or not to go? In the end I decided to go because I couldn't break my promise! So I went back to church again - the Chicago Chinese Church - and I have been with the church ever since.

Since coming to America, I had met up with many problems, and as they all came to mind one by one my eyes tears blurred with tears.

" Men should never cry." And from childhood I had never cried, except at my parents' funerals. But now in spite of my white hairs, my tears were falling because I was so full of hurt and resentment. Since arriving in America, I had suffered a lot from my daughter-in-law and the wounds in my heart had not healed. Less than a week after my arrival she was already pounding the table shouting, "Who invited you to America? Look at all the money you have spent on this trip! You ought to know that here in America, children are not financially responsible for their parents." "Go back to China..."

All I could do was to get away. I moved out. But that was not the end of it. Every time I called my son, she would quickly interrupt, seize the receiver and start to yell again. My old ears could take no more. I was terrified and I had to give up. So my son and I were separated and we hardly saw each other.

As if that was not enough, I had also been injured in a car accident. What was I to do? I had always been a kind-hearted man, so why did I have to suffer so much? I was unnable to forgive or even be tolerant towards this daughter-in-law who kept on tormenting and wounding me. I felt depressed and disorientated. This was when I met up with Mrs. Kwan. Could it be that God was calling to me?

"Oh God, you are the only one who is not abandoning me." I murmured. From that time on I went to church every Sunday, listening to the messages, joining in the meetings, reading Bible verses and laying my hands on all the evangelistic books I could find. Joy began to enter my soul. Before my baptism, I tried to share the Gospel with my son, hoping that they would come to the name of the Lord too. I said, "Let's put all the past behind us. Let's start afresh! I invite you both to come to my baptism ceremony."

Like a lonely boat on a long voyage, I had found my warm harbor. My frozen heart had begun to warm again. Knowing my financial difficulties, pastors, brothers and sisters all extended helping hands to me. They brought me food, clothes, blankets and money. In a world where money was the only thing people thought about, I had been able to meet these precious people with their loving hearts. I knew that this was all grace from the Lord.

How the time flew by! This lonely little boat of mine was preparing to sail home. It would be another long voyage and I did not know what kind of storms were awaiting me. I was anxious because my hometown might not have a church and I might not be able to meet with Christian brothers and sisters again. I heard that Christians were sometimes persecuted or locked up. Was that true? I felt a bit lost. But then my confidence came back to me. What did I have to worry about as long as the Lord was with me? "Be careful, or your hearts will be weighed down with dissipation, drunkenness and the anxieties of life, and that day will close on you unexpectedly like a trap. For it will come upon all those who live on the face of the whole earth. Be always on the watch, and pray that you may be able to escape all that is about to happen, and that you may be able to stand before the Son of Man." (Luke 21:34-36)

I believe that the Lord will always be with me as long as I remember His teachings and read the Bible and pray. What do I have to worry about when the Lord is with me?

The author came from Yunnan.