A Korean Christian Starts Work in Haing Ju—Changed Lives of Believers—A Reformed Saloon-keeper—The Conversion of a Sorceress—Best of Friends—A Pleasant Night on the Water—Evidence of Christian Living—Our Visit in Sorai—A Korean Woman’s Work—How a Kang Acts at Times—Applicants for Baptism—Two Tonghaks—In a Strait betwixt Two—Midnight Alarms—Miss Jacobson’s Death.
In the late fall of the same year Mr. Underwood and I started again on a trip to the interior, the first we had made together since our wedding journey, but now we were accompanied by our child, six years old, and a native woman, who acted as cook, nurse and general assistant. She rode in a native “pokyo” or chair with the child, I in another, while Mr. Underwood walked or rode his bicycle, as opportunity permitted. Our first destination was Haing Ju, a dirty little fishing village on the river, about ten miles from the capital. Work had started here just after the cholera in the fall of 1895 through the teaching of a native named Shin Wha Suni, a poor fellow who had, according to his own confession, been hanging around us for some time, pretending to be interested in Christianity, in the hope of getting some lucrative employment in connection with church work.
After the cholera hospital was opened, he was there on several occasions, and was much surprised to find that foreign women would spend whole nights nursing sick Korean coolies. When he chanced to see one weeping over a poor man, whom all her efforts had failed to save, he went away astonished and impressed with the idea that “there is something in that religion that makes them love us like that, something that forgets self, something that I have never dreamed of before, something mysterious, glorious, oh, that it were mine!”
He hungered and God fed him. He sought and found the Saviour, and when he had found him, he set forth at once to tell the good news to others. Taking a jikay, the frame which Koreans wear on their backs to facilitate the carrying of heavy loads, and which all native carriers use, he started forth to the country to earn his living in this humble way while chandohaoing or “passing on the Word.” He went as far as Haing Ju, and there on the sand of the river bank he talked to scoffing people all day.
At night, when it was dark, one of the men who had seemed to treat his message lightly, came and asked him to come to his house and talk the matter over at more length. He went, and soon another believer was gained. “Oh, it was good, the taste of a soul saved,” said the new preacher. “Now it seemed to me I could never be satisfied with anything else; could never rest until I had more.” The man who had been converted offered the use of his house as a preaching place. The men gathered in one room, the women in another, and Shin read the gospels and the tracts and taught them the catechism and hymns. The number of Christians grew from week to week, and the little meeting place became too small and had to be enlarged. The whole tone of the village gradually changed, and from being known as one of the hardest and most disreputable places on the river, it now became a model of decency and respectability.
Testimony to this effect was offered by some farmers, who appeared one day in my husband’s study and asked him if he had anything to do with the Christians in Haing Ju. He replied in the affirmative, half afraid the people had come with some charge against them. “Well,” the strangers said, “we should like to buy the books which teach the doctrine they are practicing there, we want to learn that doctrine in our village too.”
Their village, Sam Oui, was not quite three miles away, and in former times they had been much troubled by the brawls and bad character of Haing Ju. Their vegetables had been stolen from the fields, their fruit and chestnuts from the trees, “but now,” said they, “the people not only do not climb the trees for the nuts, but the boys leave those on the ground untouched.”
Here was power in a faith which kept hungry boys from carrying off even nuts lying temptingly in reach. This was something the like of which they had never seen or heard; they had been taught not to steal, especially if likely to be discovered, but a power that could prevent men and boys from wishing to steal was miraculous. One of the saloon-keepers of Haing Ju, a man whose only source of livelihood was in this trade, became thoroughly converted, and at once realized that he could no longer sell drink to his neighbors, nor could he conscientiously dispose of his stock in trade at wholesale to other dealers, so he emptied it all on the street. He was able to obtain a little work now and then, but he was not strong enough for coolie labor. He had no trade and no farm, and at times his need was great, and often the family were on the verge of starvation, but the man’s faith never failed, he never gave up his hold on God. Finally sickness attacked him, he became very lame, and hearing of the hospital in Seoul, managed to be conveyed thither, and while there we heard his story, and as I needed just then a caretaker for my dispensary, we engaged him and his wife to live on the place and do the light work necessary. His leg did not improve much at the hospital, nor did the doctor give him much hope, but this, too, he made a subject of prayer and faith, and erelong rejoiced in a complete recovery.
This is the character of the faith of these hardy fishermen and farmers on the river. As we approached the village we were astonished to hear the strains of a Christian hymn, “Happy day, happy day, when Jesus washed my sins away.” It was a band of little boys whom Shin had been training, and who had come out to meet us. We spent two or three days in this place, women and men crowding into the little building to every meeting. Mr. Underwood baptized thirty-eight people, a young couple were married, one hundred and thirteen catechumens were received, and some babies baptized.
Speaking of babies reminds me of a sad little incident which occurred while I was holding the first meeting there with the women. Hoping to win their interest, knowing how many little dead babies are carried away from Korean homes, I told them of the Saviour’s love for little ones, that he held them in his arms and caressed them when on earth, and had said that the spirits of these little ones do always behold the face of the Father; so that would they only believe and give their hearts to him, they should see their little ones again in heaven.