50k Miles of Missionary Miracles [PDF]

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50,000 MILES OF

Missionary

Lester F. Sumrall Author,

Through Blood and Fire in Latin America Adventuring with Christ Worshipers of the Silver Screen

Originally Published by ZonderYan Publishing House, 1948

Fifty Thousand Miles of Missionary Miracles ISBN 1-58568-204-7 Copyright © 2000

Published by Sumrall Publishing Company P 0. Box 12 South Bend, IN 46624 Printed in the United States of America. All rights reserved.

To those Courageous Modern Youth who aggressively accept the challenge of Christ today this book is dedicated -Lester Sumrall, 1948

This Special Edition of 50,000 Miles of Missionary Miracles is reprinted in honor of the dedication of the M. V Louisa into God's service, and in honor of my parents, Lester and Louise Sumrall. This is the account of their two-year evangelistic honeymoon which took them throughout the Caribbean and Latin America. These are the very lands and peoples who will be served today by the Louisa. Please continue with us in prayer that many will be brought to salvation through her voyages.

Thank you for standing with us in the work that continues to reap a World Harvest. - Stephen Sumrall, 2000

CONTENTS l. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27.

The Romance of Living ....................................................... 9 A Long String That Finally Knotted ................................ 12 Wedding Bells .................................................................... 22 The Invisible Hand ............................................................ 32 Fifty-Thousand-Mile Mission .......................................... 40 A Jungle Wedding ............................................................. 50 Puerto Rico: Gem in Uncle Sam's Crown ....................... 56 Caribbean Cameos ............................................................ 65 Vagabonding in the Antilles ............................................ 73 Kaleidoscopic Trinidad ...................................................... 82 His Majesty's Carrera Prison ........................................... 89 Spiritism in the New World ............................................. 95 Wings Over the Amazon ................................................ 110 Behind the Beyond .......................................................... 116 A Gospel in the Gutter .................................................... 125 Severono-A Brazilian Boy ........................................... 128 The Bandmaster's Death Diary ..................................... 130 Gold and Diamonds ........................................................ 137 Whither Bound, Brazil? .................................................. 140 An Argentine Prodigal .................................................... 143 The Boot-String Republic ............................................... 146 Peruvian Revival .............................................................. 150 An Incan Indian Woman ................................................. 154 My Own Convert ............................................................ 158 Home On Wings .............................................................. 161 The Challenge .................................................................. 164 The Vision Continues ...................................................... 167

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CHAPTER 1

THE ROMANCE OF LIVING Fifty Thousand Miles of Missionary Miracles is not a novel and contains no fictitious events or characters. This is a book of vibrating, vitalizing life, and records the adventures of two young Christians who ceased to look for anything more exciting than truth. The authors of this volume desire to bear witness that life is not a fortuitous confusion: that life, with a capital L, is not casual but causal. We maintain that Christ is the Helmsman of our souls, steering our lives through the vicissitudes of earthly events to the haven of the New Jerusalem. We accept God as an omnipotent yet affectionate Heavenly Father, who has a specialized and particularized interest in each young person's welfare. We believe that the happy and bright morning of our human existence is integrally linked and blended with a magnificent sunset by fixed and irrevocable laws; that whosoever obeys those divine precepts finds life exciting and gratifying. Our philosophy of life is exemplified by the writer of the book of Hebrews, who when referring to God's commandment to Moses on Mount Sinai said: See ... that thou make all things according to the pattern shewed to thee in the mount ... (Heb. 8:5).

God draws patterns for the lives of men and women to instruct and direct them. He creates a special design for each ratio9

Fifty Thousand Miles of Missionary Miracles nal being who is destined to live on this planet. If the individual wisely follows this divine blueprint, he will build a strong, successful and happy character. One thing is imperative: "Make all things according to the pattern shewed to thee in the mount." Our mount is Calvary. When a sinner kneels at the foot of the Cross and accepts Christ as his personal Savior, he is fitting into God's plan for his life. The blueprint may not be perfectly clear at the moment of salvation, but Christ progressively teaches His disciples to decipher its instructions. To change the simile: have you viewed the gigantic Empire State Building and been amazed at its symmetrical rhythm in stone? Did you consider that an intricate blueprint was drawn up by the most competent draftsmen available, and that the master builders followed the instructions perfectly? Have you perchance observed the Sydney Harbor Bridge in Australia, or Huey Long Bridge in New Orleans, or Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco, and extolled their structural magnificence? Did you remember that a meticulously-drawn plan was first drafted, and the workmen did not build as they wished, but faithfully followed every detail of the design? Now-have you witnessed a glorious, victorious Christian life? Did you take time to analyze it and see that it was not achieved by accident or good fortune but was a life built according to a pattern? People who try to live without a divine pattern do not know how to live, and thus create the direct cause of much misery in the world today. They who refuse to follow the pattern have marred lives without beauty. There are others who refuse their

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The Romance of Living particular pattern of life and make the grave mistake of attempting to use the pattern of another person. This always results in deep disappointment and bitter disillusionment. God has an individual pattern for each person, a pattern which he destroys after it has been executed. God is the great universal Individualist! From the lowliest twig of grass to a king's fingerprints, there isn't one duplication. The two young people of this book have diligently tried to follow the revealed pattern for their lives. The result has been-the Romance of Living!

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CHAPTER 2

A LONG STRING THAT FINALLY KNOTTED Did you ever hear of a young man, who, while traveling in a foreign land, accepted an invitation to a wedding ceremony, and there was introduced to a lovely young lady, a citizen of another country, who was engaged in missionary work, and after acquaintance, corresponded for over a year, ultimately becoming engaged Par Avian, and the young lady returned to her native land by plane where they were later united in marriage-then the newlyweds took a fifty-thousand-mile honeymoon to win souls for Jesus Christ, from Nova Scotia in the far north to the Antipodes in Argentina? That is the story of this book, telescoped into a sentence of a hundred words. THE TIME AND PLACE Lester and Louise are convinced that as God divinely guided Rebecca to the well at the ordained time, and led Eliezer, the chief servant of Abraham's household, to the well at the right moment, and the right words were interchanged that produced the right actions, so God, in His sovereign providence, brought the two main characters of this story together at the right time and the right place to bring His will to pass in their lives.

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A Long String that Finally Knotted Buenos Aires, the great South American metropolis of more than three million inhabitants, is the city where Lester Sumrall met Louise Layman. In a typically Latin patio thickly shadowed with luxuriant flora and floored with cool flowered mosaic, the tables were prepared for a wedding dinner. It was a setting in harmony with a wedding day: sun streaming through the thick foliage made golden shafts in the green. Various visiting women were busy decorating the tables for the wedding dinner. But a certain young lady seemed delightfully happy as she placed beautiful flowers and delicate foods in their respective places. I asked a missionary friend who the young lady was, and I was introduced to Miss Louise Laymanacross the wedding table. I liked her sweet smile and gracious manner from the moment I saw her. CATCHING UP Although this was the first time we had met, it was by no means the first we knew of each other. In the autumn of 1940 I journeyed to Alaska to conduct meetings in all the important towns of that far northern territory. For a number of years I had desired to weather an Alaskan winder; my ambition was now reaching fulfillment. En route to "America's Last Frontier," I stopped in Prince Rupert, British Columbia, for a week of special meetings. We enjoyed a profitable time speaking in the mission and in the high school. Before my boat sailed north the pastor informed me that a missionary from South America by the name of Miss Layman was arriving the same day on a boat from the South to give talks on the Argentine. Thus in 1940 we missed an introduction by a few hours! In the spring of 1941 I came south out of the frigid Alaskan winter, after having traveled eighty miles above the Arctic Circle to the town of Wiseman, and as far west as Nome on the Bering 13

Fifty Thousand Miles of Missionary Miracles Sea. The Lord had blessed the Arctic venture by saving many souls. The largest halls obtainable had been retained for meetings, and I had spoken over every radio station in the territory (including KFAR in Fairbanks, the commercial station farthest north in the world), in many of the high schools, and at the University of Alaska (the most northern university in the world). I had seen thousands of reindeer in the wild; had chased a bull moose over the tundra by airplane; had watched Eskimos fish through the ice for codfish-and preached the Gospel in churches, clubs, radio studios, classrooms, and personally to old sourdoughs of the golden Arctic trails. My heart and soul were brimful of rich experiences and lifelong remembrances. Passing Prince Rupert, I again stopped for a few meetings, then took the primitive railroad through the interior of British Columbia to Terrace, Smithers, Prince George and beautiful Jasper National Park. In each town the Christians spoke of the missionary from the Argentine, and of the rich blessing she had been to them. This made me curious to know this intrepid young adventuress who dared to visit these outposts of civilization in the northland, where only courageous and zealous ministers offer their service. I think my admiration for her was born at that time. SOUTHWARD HO! By December of 1942 I had conducted missions from Alaska at the top of the world to Argentina at the bottom, not omitting a single country en route. I had traveled overland through Mexico, Central and South America by plane, auto, mule and other methods. (This journey is recorded in my book Through

Blood and Fire in Latin America.) After crossing the stupendous Andes by train under the shadow of the gigantic Mt. Aconcagua with its eternal silvercrested head standing more than twenty-three thousand feet in the heavens, I arrived in the lovely city of Mendoza, Argentina. There, in the home of a missionary, I heard again of Miss Louise Layman. She had come up from the province of Buenos Aires 14

A Long String that Finally Knotted and labored with these people for some six months. These friends declared that her life had brought golden sunshine into their home and great blessing to their mission. And so, when I was introduced to her at the wedding dinner in Buenos Aires, I mused, This is the Louise I have heard of

from the top of the world to the bottom! One incident at the wedding we both remember vividly. Louise was playing the Bridal March on the electric organ. I was sitting to the right, and as the bride and groom marched in and stood side by side at the altar, one of us smiled at the other. We both think the other smiled first; however, it was rapidly mutual! The day we met we had a couple of informal chats together and discussed friends we both knew in North America. An acquaintance is always easy when there are many mutual friends involved. A WOODEN BURRO Our second meeting was at the mission station in Henderson, a town about seven hours' journey by train from Buenos Aires. Our itinerary was so arranged that we arrived on Christmas Day-and the miserable train service (twice a week) brought us to town at eight A.M.! My interpreter, Mr. Sorensen, and I were greeted at the railway station; we were given a hearty welcome and extended Season's Greetings in the sweltering heat of an Argentine Christmas! After breakfast the two visitors received an unexpected gift from the family Christmas tree. I was a bit embarrassed to open a festive parcel wrapped in Yuletide colors and find a wooden burro! The donkey was a queer-looking creature with wheels under his feet, and when in motion, his hips went up and down in a comical fashion. Louise had given me my first present!

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Fifty Thousand Miles of Missionary Miracles Possibly this act gave me an insight into her friendly and jolly nature. HE SAYS I accepted the gift and thanked the young lady very much. However, a few days later in the home of a missionary who had a small child, I gave the burro away after christening the same Luisa ("Louise" in Spanish) and writing its name in ink down its protruding spine. From Argentina I traveled up the La Plata and Paraguay Rivers to Asuncion, Paraguay, then on to the Church of England mission among the Lengua-Moscoy Indians of the Gran Chaco Boreal. Riding on horseback for more than three weeks and on primitive river boats, I had plenty of time to meditate on recent meetings and acquaintances and write a few notes of appreciation for hospitality received and fellowship enjoyed. In a letter to Miss Layman I thanked her for the donkey, informing her of its name and where its present "stall" was located. Returning to Asuncion from the Gran Chaco before traveling up the other side of Paraguay to the world-famous Falls of Iguazu, I received a rather indignant epistle from Louise regarding the donkey affair-it seemed that I had carried it too far. I wrote back to apologize and she answered to say I was forgiven. Then I wrote to say "Thanks," and she answered to say "You are welcome." We continued to correspond until my birthday in 1944, on which date I proposed. I requested Louise to cease being a layman and join the ordained ministry! You have read the masculine version of how the two met; now you may read the version written by the young lady involved. SHE SAYS

It was one of our joys, on nights when there was no local service, to tune in to HCJB, "The Voice of the Andes," Quito, Ecuador, and enjoy "the spiritual oasis of the short-wave dial." One night as I was listening to the English hour, I was surprised 16

A Long String that Finally Knotted to hear the co-director, Mr. Clarence Jones, announce that HCJB was pleased to present Evangelist Lester Sumrall, a world-traveled revivalist and author, to the radio family. He announced that Mr. Sumrall would present a series of messages over the facilities of HCJB, and asked everyone to listen three times each day to these talks.

Lester Sumrall, I mused. This is possibly the same minister I heard about in British Columbia, who was on his way to Alaska. In the guest room I picked up an advertisement of his meetings with his picture and some notes on his travels. Naturally I was curious and wondered if Mr. Sumrall would include the Argentine in his itinerary of Latin America. We listened a few nights to the sermons, but nothing was said about the Argentine. Then he left Quito and we heard no more of him until approximately six months later, when I heard from Mendoza that Mr. Sumrall was visiting there and would be coming to Buenos Aires. Then at a wedding of two of my missionary colleagues in Buenos Aires I was introduced to him. I asked him if he had visited Prince Rupert and could see from the "light in his eyes" that views of the beautiful, rugged Northland were dancing before him. We enjoyed speaking of places and people we both knew in North America, as I am a Canadian and he a citizen of the United States. The missionaries were pleased to have Mr. Sumrall visit the local churches for preaching missions. However, when he visited our church it never entered my mind that an intimate friendship would develop between us. A blessed lesson that I have learned, and every young person should learn, is to be happy and "in whatsoever state ... to be content." If a Christian young person will wait patiently for the unfolding of His plans in his or her life, they will witness the hand of God. While home on furlough, I traveled thousands of miles from British Columbia to Nova Scotia showing pictures and speaking about Argentina. I met many of my old classmates from Western Bible College, in Winnipeg, who were married 17

Fifty Thousand Miles of Missionary Miracles

and had their homes. At weary moments I envied them. This was settled one night as a friend related to me a message she had recently heard. The central theme of the sermon was this: if people would bury their desires and ambitions in the will of God, some day there would be a blessed resurrection, much more wonderful than their natural plans could be. I was made to realize that unattractive seeds or bulbs are buried for months with no sign of life; then one day a beautiful plant or flower blossoms forth. When the S. S. Uruguay, taking me back to Argentina, pulled away from the dock in New York harbor and the great Statue of Liberty grew smaller in the distance, I had rest, because I knew God would give me the desires of my heart-and He has! HE SAYS Wednesday, February 15, 1944, was the second greatest day of my adult life. The greatest day of my life was the day I accepted Christ as my personal Savior and surrendered my will to His plan for my life. The second day in importance was February 15, 1944, my birthday, when I asked Miss Louise Layman to be my bride. Here is why I proposed on my birthday. The Lord had spoken to my heart a few years previously that my thirtieth year would mark the greatest change of my personal career. With this assurance came the significance of the year thirty in the lives of many Bible characters.Joseph was thirty when he assumed prime ministership over Egypt. David was thirty when he was proclaimed king over Israel. The Lord Jesus Christ was thirty when He commenced His public ministry. The number thirty clearly had to do with maturity and with spiritual blessing. Expectantly I waited for my thirtieth year. On my thirtieth birthday I was aboard a river craft sailing up the Parana River between Paraguay and Argentina. I thought, as I often did during that year, of this new phase of life I was to enter. The day of destiny did not

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A Long String that Finally Knotted arrive until a week before my thirty-first birthday. The Lord in a marvelous manner impressed upon my heart that I should write Louise and ask her to marry me-that it was His time for me to have a companion. This was almost overwhelming. True, we had corresponded for more than a year, but our correspondence was far from a lackadaisical affair. We both admired and appreciated the labor of the other, but there had been no writing of amalgamation. Day and night I sought God to be certain of His will in the matter. Remembering that John Wesley made a seemingly terrible mistake in his choice of a wife, and that his brother Charles and others advised him differently, I approached my other brother, Ernest, also a minister, and asked his advice. He listened to all the details and confided that he felt it was the very thing to do. On my birthday I wrote the letter of proposal. My brain was whirling; my heart was beating rapidly. The first letter did not satisfy me, so I rewrote it; then, fearing that it was too legal in diction, I rewrote it again. That afternoon, placing an airmail stamp on it in the state of Minnesota, I sent it flying on the wings of the wind to far-off Argentina. Now I only had to wait for a reply, to see if God was also speaking at the other end of the world. SHESAYS Friday, February 25, the day before my birthday, I returned from a ladies' prayer service in Henderson, and the young daughter of the missionary with whom I was laboring said, with a twinkle in her eye, "Would you like to have a letter?" "Of course," I replied, extending my hand for the letter. She gave me a letter from my mother. Then about an hour later, with a roguish laugh, she said, "Would you like another letter?" "Yes," I replied entering into her merry mood. This one was from Lester.

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Fifty Thousand Miles of Missionary Miracles Sitting in a chair on the corridor, I opened the letter. It began: "My dearest Louise." I was glad to be seated as my knees trembled and my heart thumped. "This letter contains the greatest surprise of your life ... " The first thought was: Oh, how wonderful! Then I thought of my work in Argentina, and said, "The will of the Lord be done at this crossroad of my life." That night as we sat together on the verandah, I broke the news to my senior missionary. Without a moment of hesitation she said, "Why, surely you will accept, won't you?" But I could not answer at the moment. Also I told a very close friend, a missionary's wife about it, and she, too, thought it was the will of the Lord. Then I wrote to the field superintendent and he thought it was of God. After a week of prayer I had tested every question that had arisen and firmly decided that it was God's will; therefore, a cable and a letter were to be sent. My co-worker was going into Buenos Aires, so I asked her to send the cable from there as it would be safer from the city. But when she returned from the capital, the news was disappointing. The company would not permit her to send the message as it must bear the signature of the sender. The man asked her to put her name on the cable and send it. Then it would have read: "Yes-Susie," rather than "Yes-Louise." She said it would never do! Therefore I sent the cable from our local post office, but the next morning it was back again, the censors refusing to pass it during the war as it might have been a secret code. It was! I re-sent it with three additional words: "Yes, I will come!" It went through. HESAYS Here is a quotation from my diary-March 18, 1944: "I am engaged today! One month and three days after I wrote my proposal, the answer was received. Sitting here in the great Pan American air terminal in Mexico City, waiting for the Mexican plane to take me to Tuxpan, where I shall go back and visit the Otomi Indians, I read again the letter received this morning from

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A Long String that Finally Knotted Louise, forwarded from Chicago. She has consented to leave the Argentine and return home to Canada where we shall be married later this year. May God unite our lives to do a great work for Him in every part of the world. She said she had prayed about the matter for a week and had consulted her senior missionaries on the field-that is a good spirit. The long string is about to knot! My heart feels certain she will make a fine companion as she is the choice of God, and my choice. The distance is so great and the war restrictions and censorships so slow, it takes a long time for word to come and go. I trust the same censor read both letters and knows how it all came out!" My total bank deposit was five hundred dollars. I wrote a check on this, adding twenty-four dollars, and dispatched a draft by airmail to bring home the one I had chosen.

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CHAPTER 3

WEDDING BELLS SHE SAYS

After accepting Lester's proposal, I had nearly three months to prepare for my departure from Argentina. They were happy months-exciting months! Life was all new. There were many things demanding attention. I made a trip to Buenos Aires to purchase my going-away outfit, pick up my reservation on the Pan American Airlines, and share my excitement with many friends. Every day I reread his letters, and each time seemed to get something new from them. For some days I was occupied with selling many of the things I would not care to take back to Canada, such as my bedroom suite, writing desk and radio; as the Argentine government would not permit me to take my camera or typewriter out of the country, I was obliged to part with them. The personal effects that I wished to keep were packed in two trunks and dispatched by boat. Finally, time for farewells came. This was not so easy. The churches where I had ministered during the past years all wanted a farewell meeting. It was hardest to leave Henderson, my last place of labor. The Christians were so lovable and kind. Our Iglesia Evangelica was known to everyone, and even the business people of the city became excited over my leaving un22

Wedding Bells der such circumstances. They would say, "Oh, la senorita is going back to Canada to be married!" And as the train pulled out of Henderson, the local school principal called, "Picarona!" (you little mischief). May 18 was the red-letter day-the day of my departure for North America and a new way of life. From Buenos Aires to New Orleans by air is farther by almost a thousand miles than from New York to Berlin by air. It was a long journey-the length of South America, the length of Central America, across Mexico and the Gulf of Mexico to New Orleans, but I was inspired to travel knowing that someone would be waiting for me at the other end of the journey. Swanky Moron Airport at Buenos Aires is a gigantic airhub for southern South America; large planes land and take off incessantly. From here the great silver plane lifted me from Argentine earth at nine A.M. Wednesday, May 18. The plane came down in Cordoba for a rest stop. The country is lovely and surrounded by green hills, which is quite a change from our part of Argentina with its expansive plains as far as the eye can see. At six o'clock we deplaned at Tucuman in northern Argentina. It was getting dark and the passengers were weary from the fatiguing ride. The hotel was a welcome sight. Four A.M. came too early for the drowsy passengers, who boarded the plane yawning. Our twenty-one-seater Douglas turned northward and in a short time we saw the foothills of the Bolivian Andes. Now the plane rose to amazing altitudes and from there I concluded my Argentine diary. Our first stop in Bolivia was the capital of La Paz. The airfield is about thirteen thousand feet above sea level and the passengers were warned to move slowly when they stepped out of the plane as some visitors fainted because of the rarified atmosphere. At the airport were traditionally dressed Indians and some llamas, the elegant beasts of burden unique to the 23

Fifty Thousand Miles of Missionary Miracles Andes Mountains. The interior of the airport was decorated Incan style and was fascinating for visitors. After taking a brief rest and drinking hot coffee, the passengers climbed aboard the international air cruiser and turned across gorgeous Lake Titicaca, situated twelve thousand feet above sea level, the highest navigable lake in the world. As we flew across part of its thirty-five-hundred-mile expanse of water, it reminded one more of an inland sea. Our first stop in Peru was in beautiful Arequipa; then we turned north and traveled along the coast to Lima, the city once known as "The Queen of the Spanish Main." On Friday we again boarded our plane and flew north, looking down upon historic Peru. Our plane stopped in several places including Guayaquil Ecuador, where it was terribly hot. Then we stopped in Columbia, and finally flew over the great jungles to Panama. It was a wearying day and the passengers were happy to come down in Balboa, Panama. I tried to get a plane out of Panama on Saturday, but found it impossible; again on Sunday there was not seat for me (because of war priorities). But on Monday we took a great airship and flew from the Canal Zone across the countries of Panama, Cost Rica, Nicaragua, Guatemala, where we stopped for a rest, and I simply fell in love with the country. The climate was ideal; birds were singing in the trees, and local Indians walked by carrying parcels on their heads. From Guatemala we next landed in Merida, Mexico. The desert was terrible, the air suffocating. All the passengers were happy to climb aboard and fly out over the beautiful Gulf of Mexico toward New Orleans. Just as the sun was lowering we saw land and at seven P.M. we landed at the New Orleans Municipal Airport. Here I found that I was expected to arrive the night before and that Lester had been here yesterday. He had called today from Baton Rouge to see if my name was on the passenger list, and was now driving down from Baton Rouge to welcome me. The immigration authorities could not release me until some American stood responsible for my crossing the States and en24

Wedding Bells

tering Canada. Here I was, right from the mission field to the glittering airport of New Orleans to meet my fiance. What a change! I had been ill in the air a few times, suffering from mal d'aire, and there was not color in my cheeks. However, this was all forgotten when a pretty green Hudson coupe parked in front of the air terminal and we stood face to face in the open doorway! We embraced. He took care of the immigration problem and I was ready to travel home to Canada. The airport immigration officers were about the most considerate government men I have ever met. They stayed an hour overtime in their office just to convenience me. I was so grateful for their kindness that I wrote the State Department in Washington and complimented their service. In a few days a letter was received expressing the State Department's appreciation for my letter. HE SAYS It was most difficult to wait until the plane arrived bringing my fiancee from far-off Argentina.

I truly met her withAffection in my heart; Perfection in my manner; And Confection in my hand. After Louise arrived in London, Ontario, my Hudson became quite well known in the district. Between my meetings in various cities in Michigan I headed for London. For a few weeks, meetings were conducted in the province of Ontario. It was rather interesting competition one week end when Louise was speaking in Sarnia, Ontario, and I was speaking in Port Huron, Michigan-across the river from each other. The months between May and September will always be remembered in our lives. They were months of making memo-

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Fifty Thousand Miles of Missionary Miracles ries; months of building companionship that would brave the vicissitudes of missionary life. They were months of romance; months of becoming intimately acquainted; times for talking over the future; of planning for years of combined ministry. They became months of synchronizing two personalities, when two lives were blending into a harmonious whole. I was simply amazed how early our ideals ran parallel. Everything seemed divinely planned. Here are a few of the outstanding similarities in our lives: We were born the same year, the same month and within three days of the same week (eleven days apart)! Both of us accepted Christ as personal Savior in our teens and promptly offered our services to the Christian ministry. Both of us ministered to a congregation as resident ministers while still in our teens. Both of us from the times of our conversions desired to do missionary work in foreign lands. Both departed North America for the mission field the same year, and the same month of the year. Louise left from New York for Argentina (in the company with Dr. and Mrs. Wortman, her uncle and aunt), and I from San Francisco for the South Sea Islands, New Zealand, Australia and on around the world in evangelistic missions; I traveled in company with Mr. Howard Carter of London, England, from Australia. I have never known of two lives so alike to be ultimately united to labor for the Lord. WEDDING BELLS September 30 was the day. The sun shone beautifully in London as the people gathered for the wedding ceremony.

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Wedding Bells At two-thirty o'clock in the afternoon a subdued hush came over the audience. The organ played the familiar strains of "Lohengrin." Standing facing the altar, the groom and his attendants knew the bride was entering the church and walking up the lovely white-carpeted aisle as whispers could be heard throughout the church, "Isn't she a beautiful bride!" I waited rather impatiently to see my bride; in a seemingly long while she finally reached my side at the altar. Rev. J. D. Saunders, her stepfather, was by her side to give her away. My brother, Rev. Ernest Sumrall, was my best man. The minister officiating was Dr. Wortman, physician and missionary, the bride's uncle. The wedding proceeded smoothly. Each spoke distinctly as the ceremony was read. A touching and appropriate hymn was sung by Mrs. Wortman. It speaks truly of the life we desire to live for God. Together with Jesus life's pathway we tread As one heart united by His hand are led; His love e'er surrounds us, His comfort and cheer Will ever sustain us tho' days may be drear. Chorus Together with Him, 0 love so divine; Together with Him, 0 rapture sublime; Together with Him, life's pathway we tread. Together with Jesus we live for His praise And pray that His sunshine may gladden our ways; What God joins together none other can break; Yea, blessed the union that Jesus doth make. Together with Jesus, constrained by His love, We seek for the lost ones and point them above. From valleys of service to mountains of rest He guides us and keeps us; in Him we are blest.

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Fifty Thousand Miles of Missionary Miracles After fifty thousand miles of honeymoon, that hymn means more to us than it did when it was sung that day as we were beginning a united effort for the kingdom of God. Pictures were taken; then we proceeded to a reception prepared by the bride's mother. The wedding cake adorned the center of the table; it was many-tiered, crowned with a small bride and groom. There were many wedding gifts, including silver, china and linens, to remind us for years of this happy day. The London Free Press covered the occasion well. The following is an excerpt from their lengthy article: WEDDING FOLLOWS ROMANCE BEGUN IN ARGENTINE MISSION "A romance which began in a mission station in the Argentine is the background of the interesting wedding which took place this afternoon here in London. Louise Layman, the daughter of Rev. J. D. Saunders and Mrs. Saunders, became the bride of Rev. Lester F. Sumrall, of Chicago, Illinois. Both are missionaries. The bride served at Henderson, Argentina, where the couple met when the groom visited the mission at Henderson in the course of his work as an itinerant missionary. The bride will not return to the mission in the Argentine, but will accompany her husband on his mission tours to various countries. Rev. Dr. C. M. Wortman, of Toronto, officiated at the marriage service for which the church was adorned with gladioli and fem. The bridal music was played by W. B. Wortman and Mrs. W. B. Wortman was soloist. Given in marriage by Rev. J. D. Saunders, the bride was charming in her gown of rich white satin, in floor length, with heirloom veil of Brussels lace held in a white feather halo. She carried white roses, bouvardia and gladioli in a colonial bouquet

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Wedding Bells showered with blue ribbons, and also carried the handkerchief which her maternal grandmother, the late Mrs. Andrew McCulloch, formerly Maria Scandrett, carried at her wedding in this city. Miss Margaret Wortman, of Toronto, wearing pink, and Miss Joan McCulloch, of Oakville, in pale blue, attended their cousin. Their long gowns were worn with fingertip veils falling from headdresses of tiny feathers and they carried gladioli and roses. Little Constance Kutz, of Detroit, as flower girl, was frocked in pale yellow and carried a basket of roses. Rev. Ernest Sumrall, pastor of the Stone Church, Chicago, was best man for his brother. The ushers were Henry Kutz, Detroit, and Rev. Robert LeMon, of Niagara Falls, New York. The reception was held at the home of the bride's parents, Victoria Street. Mrs. Saunders wore for her daughter's wedding a smart black and turquoise costume with a corsage of roses. Later Rev. and Mrs. Lester F. Sumrall left on a trip to the Atlantic coast, the bride going away in a gabardine ensemble in dark beige, with yellow blouse, brown topcoat and little brown feather hat." ROARING NIAGARA The wedding supper finished, the honeymooners bade farewell to all the well-wishers. Departing the house, my wife threw her bridal bouquet toward a group of eager ladies. There was a scramble, and a hopeful maiden was victor. Our Hudson roared away across the lovely Ontario countryside, rich in its autumn colors, toward Niagara Falls. We saw the last of the wedding scene. Four hours later one of the honeymoon cottages, which had been reserved for some time in advance, was a welcome sight. Our cottage overlooked the world-famous cataracts; it was surrounded by trees and the interior was homelike and cheerful.

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Fifty Thousand Miles of Missionary Miracles The days passed too quickly. In the mornings, after reading the Bible and praying together, we ate breakfast and went for long walks. We lunched at a restaurant overlooking the Niagara, as the wonder of nature constantly fascinated us. In the afternoons we went adventuring. One day we took the Maid of the Mist, the famous little launch which takes breathless passengers for a ride near the cataracts. We wore special raincoats and headgear to protect us from the spray. The falls are amazing from beneath, as they plunge from a height of one hundred and sixty-seven feet. The 120,000,000 gallons of water per minute roaring overhead, the 3,600-foot breadth of the Horseshoe Falls and the American Falls were awe-inspiring. The water at the Horseshoe Falls is one hundred and ninety feet deep. Another day we took the trip under the American Falls to the Cave of the Winds and walked over the Rock of Ages. The tremendous falls are so near and so wild that the sight strikes terror in one's heart. One morning as we were walking between the Falls and the Whirlpool we saw a large number of people looking over the stone wall toward the gorge. Police were on duty and an ambulance was standing by. A rope hung over the wall. We approached a policeman and asked about the trouble. He informed us that a young Canadian soldier had been told by his fiancee that she no longer loved him and did not care to see him any more. The distracted youth had come directly from her home and had jumped over the granite cliff. This was more than twelve hours later, and workmen were still attempting to pull his mangled body up the side of the rugged wall. This revealed graphically that life without Christ is neither happy nor secure. Surely what the world needs is Jesus Christ with His transforming and regenerating powers! We had invitations from large churches in Canada and the United States welcoming us for special services, but we both felt that as our lives had previously been devoted to missionary

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Wedding Bells work, a missionary venture would be the only suitable honeymoon for us. The remainder of this book has to do with the story of a prolonged honeymoon that took us from Halifax to Buenos Aires.

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CHAPTER 4

THE INVISIBLE HAND Before we begin the account of our fifty-thousand-mile journey, permit us first to give recognition to the Invisible Hand of God that constantly and unfailingly guided and directed our travels from island to island and country to country. OPENED DOORS Like the Apostle Paul on his evangelistic journeys, we had no predetermined itineraries. We set out to minister in as many countries as the Lord would direct, and to win as many immortal souls for Christ as possible. After traveling more than fifty thousand miles from the top of the Americas to the bottom, we happily report that doors of ministry opened miraculously before us; we were never stranded and never without speaking engagements. I had petitioned the Passport Division of the State Department for a passport to travel in Central America and the West Indies to extend our missionary honeymoon. This was refused upon the grounds of international disturbances. However, Puerto Rico and the Virgin Islands are American possessions and Americans do not need passports to visit there. We prayed about the direction of movement, felt the "go signal of God," and thus started preparations for a spiritual crusade in Puerto Rico. Even here we immediately ran into difficulty. The Army would not permit North American women to enter Puerto Rico

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The Invisible Hand during the war unless they had professional reasons: my bride might not receive permission to travel to this island bastion! We petitioned the Army chief, explaining the necessity of Louise's accompanying me, and within two days a letter granting entry, and permission for Pan American Airways to issue us tickets, was received. We knew the Invisible Hand was guiding! We had traveled to Nova Scotia by train, but now we needed passage via airplane as no passenger boats to Puerto Rico were available to the public. We sought for a reservation by plane and it was immediately received. Our hearts were constantly rejoicing as we entered the doors opened by the Lord. PASSPORT MIRACLE In Puerto Rico we wondered if we could go farther, or would our missionary honeymoon end in the Antilles? I went to the governor's office, made application for a passport and waited a few days. It passed. Oh, the joy that filled my soul when I held a new passport with my name written on it! (My wife's Canadian passport was in order from the beginning.) Our eyes were now lifted to far horizons. An extended honeymoon was in prospect. The Invisible Hand was also the Invincible Hand! Missionaries from a number of islands and countries were hearing of our revival mission. Invitations came in from several directions. We sought the Lord for guidance. A tour of the Virgin Islands and on south to Trinidad, thus spanning the Caribbean quarter-moon from Miami to Port-of-Spain, was decided upon. Travel to the Virgin group was easy, but when we asked Pan American Airways for reservations to Trinidad, the clerk informed me that it would take a few months on the waiting list and a high chance of losing our seats to military personnel, after waiting, unless we possessed high priority. This was discouraging. Next we tried shipping agencies, but the companies simply smiled at us, saying that years of war had almost closed their business. We again prayed for God to have His own way.

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Fifty Thousand Miles of Missionary Miracles One day, almost by sheer accident, at the docks at Ponce we found a Dutch cargo boat, the Prince Bernhard, a small "cockleshell" of seven hundred tons. It plied between Dutch Guiana and Puerto Rico during the war because it could not return home to Holland. The captain was a friendly fellow who had visited America and England a number of times and possessed a good command of the English language. He informed us that the Prince Bernhard was scheduled to sail to Dutch Guiana with a cargo of cement from Puerto Rico and to return in a month or six weeks for another load. On his return journeys to Dutch Guiana he bunkers at Trinidad. The captain said he would be happy to take us on our journey. We assured him that he would not be nearly so glad as we! The additional time passed rapidly as we went from place to place in the beautiful tropical isle preaching the unsearchable riches of Christ. Night after night, in great plaza demonstrations and in various buildings, the young and old of Puerto Rico responded to the appeal to follow Christ. When the freighter returned the captain was not overly enthusiastic about taking us. Rigid government inspection was necessary for taking passengers. The boat physician was in the hospital; the gunner who operated the antiaircraft gun mounted on the stern of the boat was in the hospital! Anyway, we do not have decent cabin space for you," the captain reasoned. Well, we helped the captain (mostly against his wishes). First, we brought him an extra family of passengers, the Edward Millers en route to Uruguay. Then we told him we would purchase army cots for the men and make it profitable for a crew member to give his bunk room to our lady folk. We faithfully promised to be no trouble at all. It worked. We purchased army cots, and Edward and I took to the galley for something more than spuds! But, praise God, while hundreds were stranded in Puerto Rico with 11

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The Invisible Hand no means of getting away, the Lord opened a way for His servants to continue to Trinidad-by His Invisible Hand. Trinidad terminated our itinerary in the West Indies. Five months of intense evangelism had passed. Where would the Invisible Hand guide us next? After prayer we felt the enormous country of Brazil challenge us again. The Brazilian consul located in Port-of-Spain issued a visa for his country. All we needed now was a means of transportation! Having once had success at the docks, we went in that direction again, but found that God does not always work in the same manner. We called on several shipping agencies and all the answers followed the same pattern: "There are hundreds ahead of you if a ship ever comes in!" Reluctantly I went to Pan American Airways and requested reservations for Belem, Para, for October 8, a Monday, after our revival services finished on Sunday. The clerk assured me that there was no place available for months, and that I must take my place at the foot of the list. Feeling in my heart that October 8 was the right day, I asked him to place us on the cancellation list for that certain day. A few days later the telephone in the missionary's home rang. The speaker inquired for me. "Pan American, calling Mr. Sumrall." "Yes, sir." "Do you still wish reservations for two on October 8?" "Yes, sir," I said enthusiastically. "There have been two cancellations, sir," replied the Tinidadian with a British accent. ''I'll be right down to pay for them," I cried, and hung up the receiver.

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Fifty Thousand Miles of Missionary Miracles As I went for the tickets I mused, If the Invisible Hand of God is directing the paths of a spiritual crusade, every door will open at the right time! For five more long, wearying months God directed us through the vast land of Brazil from Belem in the north to Porto Alegre in the south. He graciously gave indications as to which invitations should be accepted and which declined. The Invisible Hand was unerring. A beautiful example of this was apparent when a large and spiritual church in Bello Horizonte desired special Bible studies and evangelistic meetings. My missionary colleagues thought it wise to accept the invitation. However, in my own heart I felt that we should not go at this time, but I had no reason to offer, except that my spirit was not free about the matter. Six weeks later the reason was plain. At the time we would have journeyed to Bello Horizonte, there was a flood in that region. The trains were halted and schedules suspended; the highways were inundated, halting all traffic. We could not have gone anyway. The unfailing guidance of God was always right! One of the most exciting times of guidance was this. We were obliged to travel south from the state of Sao Paulo to the States of Santa Catarina and Rio Grande do Sul, finally entering Uruguay and Argentina by the overland route. We were told that it took weeks to obtain a reservation on the train or bus because of limited facilities after World War II. We conducted meetings in the port city of Santos. While there we stalked the docks. There were literally dozens of ships from all over the world. Even the portless little country of Switzerland had a boat in port! But there was no boat touching the southern ports of Brazil. I prayed. The voice of God indicated that we were to travel overland and not by sea. This was the hardest route. The same day we packed our suitcases and checked out of the hotel. First we returned to the city of Sao Paulo. Hotel rooms are most difficult to secure-but we found one for two persons. We went directly to the bus depot and asked for seats to Curitiba, the

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The Invisible Hand capital city of Parana, for the next morning. At first the clerk declined, but later he said if we would pay twice the price of the bus ticket we could go down in a car-there were two places left! We accepted those and departed the city the following morning at four. That night in Curitiba every hotel was full. The other passengers became discouraged after all the large hotels turned us away, and got out on the streets with their suitcases to walk and find a place to sleep. We asked the driver to try again at some small hotel, asking for a room for two. At the first hotel he found one room vacant-for two! God had prepared the way. If the native passengers had been in the car, they would have grabbed this room, as they spoke the language better than we. This was half of the journey. Could we find a place on the bus for Joinville, Santa Catarina? The manager of the bus line said it would be four or five days before our turn came. We stood in the bus depot waiting (and longing) for a few minutes, not knowing what to do. Finally the manager asked if we would mind sitting on an improvised seat in the aisle of the bus; if so, he could arrange for two! We assured him it would be suitable for us. We bought two tickets for the next morning. The following day we endured a terrible journey on the ancient bus. It had a Ford V-8 motor and was hitting on about six! The bus stopped thirteen times for minor engine repairs en route. The roads were rough and full of holes. The native-made bus body was far from deluxe! Sitting on small uncushioned seats in the aisle, we could count the bumps-but we arrived safely at our destination. Our hearts were filled with gratitude to the Lord for His marvelous provision. We realized this series of miracles could not be listed as chance or coincidence. Another remarkable working of God's Invisible Hand was observed in Itijai, Brazil. We were scheduled to travel to the city of Florianapolis on a Thursday. The meeting had been announced, but the day before departing we discovered that on

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Fifty Thousand Miles of Missionary Miracles Thursdays there is no bus. We tried to hire a taxi and the driver wanted a small fortune-more than the value of his Model A Ford-for the one trip. We went to the auto freight companies asking if a truck was going on Thursday and would permit us to pay to ride on top of the freight. There was none. We were desperate. It was Wednesday night, and we had no way to travel the following day. At the Wednesday night service a Christian soldier in the Brazilian army came from Joinville to the meeting. He said he was taking a truckload of rice and beans to an army camp below Florianapolis. His reason for stopping at this halfway junction was that he had been unavoidably delayed in Joinville until the afternoon before starting his journey. We explained our predicament to the soldier. He smiled and said he would take us in the cab of the army truck, as he was alone. The big olive-colored truck roared out of town at daylight the next morning, and by noon we saw the beautiful bay of Florianapolis, with its rugged rocks that surround the shore and island. To us, our arrival for the meeting was a miracle. Our journey reached its remotest point in Argentina. From there we started back toward the United States. In Buenos Aires we found that there were no boats available and the passage prices were exorbitant. Again we went to Pan American Airways and sought reservations. Again the clerk said there was nothing open for weeks and weeks in advance. However, we sent in our petition to Lima, Peru, to the main dispatching office for that section of South America, requesting certain dates. In due course news came through: "Reservations, with stopovers in Chile and Peru." You have observed in this chapter how God provided for two. I found that purchasing tickets for two was as simple and easy as purchasing tickets for one had been before marriage. God is truly the God of two!

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The Invisible Hand Our testimony is: This is the life that makes dreams come true. This is life flashing in the sunlight of God's brilliance. This is life making youthful hearts throb in the golden light of divine service. This is the life that makes immortal souls glisten in the lovelight of Christian romance. This is the life that challenges modern youth-the life of guidance by the Invisible Hand of God.

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CHAPTER 5

FIFTY-THOUSAND-MILE MISSION After paying heartfelt tribute to the Invisible Hand of Infinite Mercy and Goodness that so unerringly led us for many thousands of miles, we shall now continue our tour from Niagara Falls, where our united ministry began. From the majestic cataracts of Niagara we started for Halifax, Nova Scotia. En route we stopped off in the great Canadian metropolis of Toronto for a Thanksgiving Youth Rally. Also we made a stopover in Montreal for a week of special meetings. Canada's largest city is of special interest to visitors. A view of the city from Mount Royal reveals the commercial might of this cosmopolitan center. Sea, land, and air contribute to make Montreal the important city it is. Montreal is the capital of Quebec and the citadel of French culture in North America. We conducted services in a French church through an interpreter. The lively meetings reminded me forcefully of former visits to France. From Montreal we took the train to Nova Scotia. It is a long, wearying journey through the provinces of Quebec, New Brunswick, and to the Peninsula of Nova Scotia (New Scotland). In Halifax some of the first North American settlements began; the oldest clock in Canada is found there, and the oldest church is still in use. We saw ancient ox carts lumbering slowly into town from the country. I had been informed that the Maritime Provinces had been overlooked by most religious organizations. This challenge gave

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Fifty-Thousand-Mile Mission us the urge to enter Nova Scotia to conduct revival meetings. We ministered in a dozen cities and towns. Our itinerary formed a circular route around the peninsula. The Lord graciously blessed the meetings and a number accepted the saving grace of Christ; however, we did not wih1ess the sweeping revivals that we were to see later in Latin America. The pastors were encouraged with the meetings and anxious that we return for greater meetings at another time. At the town of Lockport we stayed with a farming family, sleeping in their front room on an improvised bed. The house heater was in this room. Thus it became my job to arise in the mornings and make a fire in the old-fashioned wood stove. Then we tidied up the room for the family to use as a sitting room during the day. We enjoyed the unembellished and unsophisticated hospitality of this kind family, as we ate out in the kitchen near the heat of the wood range and washed in a basin of water near the table. To try my brawn I took the twin-edged axe and cut wood for the heater and man-powered it into the house. The Yarmouth district was interesting. Pastor Parlee took us out to primitive fisher villages where we saw the Nova Scotia fishermen drying herring and cod in the open air on long tables along the beach. We later saw a barrel of Halifax fish for sale far down in the Virgin Islands of the East Indies. Lobster season was just beginning, and we saw along the seashore hundreds of large baskets ready to trap the sea game. It was exciting to visit the Cape Forchu lighthouse. Nova Scotia has the most rugged coastline I have seen. It is notoriously dangerous for sailing. After climbing the staircase to the top, we were informed that the light from the lighthouse is not what inland people may think. For example, the light never "blinks." It burns steadily by means of a powerful electric bulb. The lenses revolve, causing the "bull's eye" to send out alternate flashes. But if you live near the lighthouse there is no "blinking" illusion. Also, if you are many miles away, a steady beam, in the 41

Fifty Thousand Miles of Missionary Miracles form of rays, shines on the horizon. But if you are between, it "blinks," and in so doing it informs the ship of its location. Nova Scotia is a famous apple country. We saw miles of beautiful apple orchards. Workers were filling box cars with uncrated apples for the people in the United States to eat at Christmas. I walked into a store to buy a few fine eating apples and asked for twenty or twenty-five cents' worth-expecting the clerk to weigh two or three pounds. The woman took a large sack and began to fill it. I remonstrated, "Pardon, lady, I only wish twenty or twenty-five cents' worth." She said," All right," and kept filling the bag. From this experience I learned how to buy apples in Nova Scotia. As I was born in New Orleans and somewhat versed in Louisiana French history, it was most interesting to see the famous Evangeline country where the descendants of the French who now live in Louisiana were deported about 1765. We saw the statue of Evangeline at Gran Prie outside the church. This was thought-provoking, as I have visited the statue of Evangeline, the heroine of Longfellow's classic, by the church in St. Martinville, Louisiana, on the banks of Boyau Teche, where the Acadians disembarked in 1765 and where Evangeline is supposed to have met her faithless lover, Gabriel. The great tree under which they met has been called "America's most famous tree." In that region the people still speak French and talk of the great exodus of their foreparents as if the event had happened recently rather than nearly two centuries ago. Finishing our work in Nova Scotia, New Brunswick and Ontario, we arrived back in the United States for a great New Year's Youth Rally in Detroit. It was a glorious meeting and many young souls were touched for God. Preparations moved fast. The day of departure for the southern portion of our honeymoon arrived. In New Orleans we boarded a fast Lodestar, a twelve-seater plane, at seven-thirty in 42

Fifty-Thousand-Mile Mission the morning, and we ate dinner in Miami, Florida, that same evening (though we did not feel much like eating!). It was a journey remarkable for beauty and speed. We skirted the beautiful Gulf of Mexico across Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama and Florida. In fact, we crossed the state of Florida three times that day: from Pensacola to Jacksonville, across the widest part of the state; from Jacksonville to Tampa, from the Atlantic to the Gulf; then from Tampa across the Everglades to Miami. With one day for rest in Miami to get our official papers in order, we boarded a Douglas DC-3, a twenty-one-seater, for Puerto Rico. This larger plane, 25,200 pounds gross weight, was more comfortable and made us feel more secure than the smaller one. In Miami we saw the multitudes from everywhere, most of them still seeking the fantastic fountain of youth that Ponce de Leon, the Spaniard, sought in vain. Miami's climate and setting are lovely, but man with his sin leaves ugly scars. THE WAY OF THE GREAT Early in the morning, waiting with some fifty other passengers for planes flying all directions out of Miami, we heard a voice from the loudspeaker announce the names of the pasengers for San Juan, Puerto Rico. Frankly, the only names I heard were my wife's and mine. But a corpulent gentlemen with a happy expression (for five o'clock in the morning) spoke from across the room: "Mr. Sumrall, are you any relation to General Sumrall?" "No, not that I am aware," I replied in a reclusive tone. He grinned from ear to ear and replied, "I was just inquisitive, when I heard your name, as he was my superior officer in World War I." Who was this ultra-friendly gentleman traveling by air to Puerto Rico? When we boarded the plane he sat directly across from us and in a matter of minutes chatted away as if we were old friends. He lent us government statistics on Puerto Rico, a kindness which was greatly appreciated. Later, when I opened 43

Fifty Thousand Miles of Missionary Miracles the Miami morning newspaper, then looked across the aisle to check the face, I found he was none other than the powerful pugilist-looking Maurice Maverick from Texas. Maury Maverick was a former mayor of the great city of San Antonio, later a state representative to Washington, and at the moment heading a government commission to Puerto Rico with a half-dozen aides around him! CARIBBEAN FLIGHT Light was bursting over the Atlantic horizon as the Skymaster raced down the concrete runway defying gravitation and controlling the laws of aerodynamics. Miami was just awakening, as we circled over the famed tourist city. The plane skirted beautiful Biscayne Bay and headed across the Straits of Florida toward the glittering Caribbean Sea, where there are literally thousands of islands, some so tiny they have only a solitary palm tree, gently swaying in the balmy breeze. The heavens looked like an artist's canvas with long streaks of dashing brilliance painted across the horizons, as the sun neared the perimeter of our world. The great sun rose over the oceanic horizon like a gigantic ball of fire, casting dazzling colors upon the heavens and changing them with great rapidity. As the full-orbed luminary rose a few inches from the horizon it was impossible to look upon its golden glory. I mused, This must be the way the face

of Moses looked when he descended the sacred heights of Sinai after having communed with God for forty days. The plane steward served us a piping-hot breakfast at about a ten-thousand-foot altitude. As we had risen early and were now hungry, we relished the appetizing food. We were soon over Cuba-the largest island in the West Indies and called the "Pearl of the Antilles." We deplaned in Cuba for refueling, but all passengers were traveling farther south; therefore, there was not change of passengers. Cuba's sevenhundred-mile length can be graphically seen from the air, as it

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Fifty- Thousand-Mile Mission lies at an angle across the mouth of the Gulf of Mexico. While we flew over Cuba I remembered a former visit when we preached the Gospel to the people of the lovely isle of more than four million souls. From Cuba the Douglas plane headed across the Windward Passage for beautiful Port au Prince, the capital of the fascinating land of Haiti, a country of three million population. As our plane flew over the sail-flecked harbor and picturesque city, we looked down upon this lovely view. Haiti was founded in 1804 when Toussant L'Ouverture led its people, former African slaves, to defeat their French rulers. The country still retains French as its national language. We saw two extremes at the international airport of this economically impoverished, developing nation. Outside there were poor natives trying to sell a few local items for a few cents, while inside, a bottle of Coca Cola cost twentyfive cents in American money (we made the mistake of drinking first and then asking the price!). From Port au Prince the plane flew across the beautiful island that was once named Saint Domingue. Today it houses two republics. These speak different languages and do not get along so well along the frontier. Our next stop was Cuidad Trujillo, the capital of the Dominican Republic. The country is quite different from Haiti, though situated on the same island After a rest stop we took to the air for the last lap of the journey. This time as we followed the radio beam across the Mono (Monkey) Passage, we were served lunch. The menu featured tomato juice, soup, fried chicken, salad, dessert and coffee, a fine meal for high altitudes! As I handed back the lunch tray to the ship's steward and looked out of the window I saw that the heavens were black ahead of us. In a matter of seconds the light signals on the front wall of the plane flashed: "Strap on seat belts." That sign meant trouble ahead. The passengers hardly had their seat belts strapped before the tropical storm broke in fury upon the plane. It was a real tormenta; we could watch the 45

Fifty Thousand Miles of Missionary Miracles wings of the plane tremble and bend under the terrific pressure. The rain smashed against us with such force that even the wings of the plane disappeared from sight. We all knew that tropical storms had taken their toll of planes, ships and every means of transportation-and our plane was fighting the storm. We prayed earnestly for the safety of the passengers and of the ship. PUERTO RICO

For a number of years I had desired greatly to see the fascinating island of Puerto Rico. Now, at last, at this moment, below us was the verdant land of Latin loveliness. At two-thirty in the afternoon we landed in San Juan, the capital of Puerto Rico. We were now more than 1,150 miles from Miami, Florida. What a contrast-in the morning we were living in metropolitan Miami, and in the evening of the same day, in exotic Puerto Rico! The very air was heavy with the new aroma. We were with human beings of every shade of coloring from dull yellow, graduating through every hue of tan and brown, continuing to black. Yet we experienced no class distinction based on race. To our pleasant surprise a great welcome meeting was arranged for the first night. Pastors from various parts of the island were present and the entire Mizpah Bible School faculty and student body were there to present greetings and special features. It was a grand meeting that brought great joy as eight souls came forward for salvation when I gave the appeal. This seemed to indicate the seal of God upon this part of our missionary venture. Before we can appreciate fully the present conditions of this island that is a hundred and eight miles long and thirty-seven miles in width, and fourth in size of the Greater Antilles, we should become acquainted with its history. Its original inhabitants, of whom none are left, named it Borinquen. Columbus and his conquistadores of Spain named it Puerto Rico. Columbus

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Fifty-Thousand-Mile Mission lowered his anchors in the Bay of Aguada on November 19, 1493, one year after he discovered North America. Ponce de Leon, a bold young lieutenant under Columbus, conquered the island and was appointed the first governor by the Spanish crown. He built a splendid palace in San Juan in 1584. Puerto Rico remained under the Spanish until conquered by the American army in 1898, terminating Spanish rule. However, now in 1948, Puerto Rico is positively still Spanish. The people speak Spanish. They think Spanish. They love Spanish culture. Puerto Rico's name (Rich Port) was a mockery under Spanish rule; the island endured abject poverty and gross ignorance. When the American army and government occupied the island, changes were initiated, which are still in process of betterment. Religious liberty, charitable institutions, schools and hospitals were established. The mortality rate has decreased from 38.4 to 16.6 per 1,000. Infant mortality rate has decreased amazingly from 260.3 per 1,000 to 42.3 per 1,000, and is still decreasing. The number of schools has increased from 700 in 1898 to about 2,600 at present. Student enrollment has increased from 23,000 to 313,492. There was no university under Spanish rule. Today, in 1948, the University of Puerto Rico in Rio Piedras has 5,000 students enrolled. Dr. John Eaton, the first American Educational Commissioner in Puerto Rico, told his pioneer group of teachers they were prospectors for good citizenship in dedicating the first schoolhouse under the Stars and Stripes. Before 1898 no building on the island was devoted wholly to schooling. Under Spanish domination, Roman Catholicism was the state religion, which did not tolerate religious freedom to minority groups. In many ways Puerto Rico was then what much of Latin America seems now. In Latin America I have personally experienced confrontation with dogmatic religious traditionalism. Many times, while traveling from Mexico to Argentina, I have pondered in my heart what the results would be if the natives of Latin American coun-

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Fifty Thousand Miles of Missionary Miracles tries more freely experienced liberty to worship God. By this I mean that they would enjoy the privileges of a religious democracy, as found elsewhere today. In Puerto Rico I found this ideal, open situation. LIBERTY FOR ALL In that lovely tropical island we visited indigenous churches, propagated and governed by its own people, without the presence of even one resident missionary. Having traveled through the island to its large towns and small campos, we witnessed and felt what we had longed to see in Latin America: liberty for all and Protestantism respected equally with Catholicism. This freedom and equality were understood recently when the Puerto Rican government maintained balance between Catholic and Protestant influence by voting to not allow either one exclusive opportunity to provide religious instruction in the public schools. Even in public opinion, this spirit of freedom is enjoyed. The children do not call Protestants bad names on the streets. The newspapers feel free to announce Protestant meetings. There are no recriminations from the radio. We receive at least three free programs each week. A number of pastors have paid programs. For one of my revivals the radio gave us sixty dollars' worth of advertising for thirty dollars. The public is friendly to all religious groups. GOVERNMENT PROTECTION In various cities the authorities granted us the privilege to use the city plaza for a public meeting. Hundreds in each place listened to the gospel over the loudspeakers. Not one word of protest was heard from the audience. While I was preaching in San Juan some drunken men disturbed the meeting. The police came and took five to prison.

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Fifty-Thousand-Mile Mission Religious freedom is by government order. On the doors of the churches a notice is posted. It reads as follows: Codigo Penal de Pto Rico. Titulo XV Articulo 358. Todo aquel que voluntariamente perturbare cualquier congregacion de personas reunidas para dedicarse al Culto groseras o indecorosas innecesario alboroto, bien en el local que se celebrase un acto religioso o tan cerca que perturbare qualquier asamblea de caracter legitimo, incurrira en un delito misdeamenor o sea seis meses de carcel, $500.00 de multa o ambas penas.

Translated, this means: All those who voluntarily disturb any congregation of persons gathered to dedicate themselves to religious worship, or object with profane, gross or indecent words, unnecessary disturbances, either in the place where the religious act is celebrated or near enough to any assembly or legitimate character, incur a misdemeanor, and shall be penalized with six months' jail or $500.00 fine or both.

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CHAPTER 6

A JUNGLE WEDDING Before traveling farther into the interesting island of Puerto Rico let us turn aside from routine life and attend a native wedding. It is in such domestic scenes that a visitor learns intimate facts about the people of any land. As Puerto Rico is predominantly rural, the wedding we shall attend is a rural ceremony. The slender olive-skinned Puerto Rican bride sat in the center of the room on an improvised bench with no back. She sat straight and stern, staring into space. Part of her admiring audience sat on home-made benches; some stood next to the walls, leaving three steps between the bride and any other person in the room. This, of all days of her life, was the day the young lady would receive unlimited admiration from relatives and friends. This unusual marital scene took place high in the central hills of Puerto Rico, in a jungle community called Montellanos, surrounded on all sides by the prolific tropical verdure of banana trees, coconut palms and coffee fincas. For our party to arrive on time at this jungle wedding we departed the city of Ponce at eight-thirty in the morning. A publico, which is an automobile used as a bus, took our group the first eleven kilometers to the end of the road and the beginning of the mountain vastness. From this point our party of thirteenmy wife and I were the only foreigners-started the tortuous climb upward on what turned out to be one of the most difficult journeys of our missionary travels.

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A Jungle Wedding We were informed that the walk from the road terminal to the jungle church was only two kilometers and that we could wear our good clothes: we learned otherwise by a most dreadful experience and by completely ruining our clothing. The party trudged slowly into the selvas (jungles), ascending almost perpendicularly. The sharp rocks caused us to slip and the steep incline made our hearts pound from the strain. The terrific tropical sun bore down upon us; perspiration streamed down our bodies. In all the jungle journeys of my life I have never been so thoroughly drenched with perspiration. My leather belt became water-soaked, faded, and discolored my clothes. My coat became like a wet rag, losing the semblance of a coat. My wife was told to wear a pair of white shoes-these were demolished that day! The jungle trail was a small path up the side of the mountain; oftentimes there was a gorge hundreds of feet deep just below a slip of the foot. The trip was nerve racking. Coffee grew on the steep mountainsides. We saw tens of thousands of coffee trees, with the green berries fast ripening into a rich red. In about a month the coffee would be ready for harvesting. Besides coffee there were bananas growing in abundance, and other tropical edibles. Beautiful multicolored butterflies flitted around us, giving some relief from the arduous hike. Flowering flamboyant trees, a flaming red, fascinated us. There were other flowering trees of yellow, purple and blue, likewise softening the rough terrain for the weary travelers. We walked until noon. The entire group became extremely weary; some sat to rest and compelled the others to wait. I told the guide that I could walk four or five kilometers an hour and that we had been walking since nine o'clock, therefore the jungle church must be more than two kilometers away. The guide blushed and explained that he was really lost and did not know 51

Fifty Thousand Miles of Missionary Miracles which way to go. When some of the natives heard this they lost all heart to climb farther. One sat and wept. To our great disappointment we were obliged to turn and stumble back along the path by which we had come, looking for another route around the mountains. In all these hours of walking we did not meet anyone, and we had not seen a half-dozen huts on distant hillsides. It was a dense wilderness. At this time our pain was turned into misery, for a tropical downpour hit us. The path became wet and the red earth was as slippery as grease. One of the natives kept saying it was "like soap"-and I added, "but not so clean!" A young Puerto Rican cut down a couple of coffee saplings and trimmed them for walking sticks for us-this was really coffee with a lift! A number of times we had to cross mountain streams, and like Gideon's three hundred braves, we refreshed our weary bodies with a few handfuls of water scooped up as we crossed. It was interesting to hear the tired natives talk. The blame for our getting lost was laid first on one native and later on another. Finally someone said the groom had told them to come by a certain path and so the blame finally rested upon him. Then they laughed as they decided that he was unconscious with love!

Famished, we dragged our weary bodies on until past twothirty in the afternoon, before we found a small cottage on the side of the mountain where a family of Christians welcomed us. We went no farther. The farmer family could see we were perishing. He urged us to take off our wet clothes-I borrowed some of the farmer's clothes! Then we lay down for a rest, and the folk served us fried eggs with fried bananas-in bed! The man took his ancient shotgun and shot a chicken. We all watched this. His aim was not perfect, so the wounded chicken jumped over the precipice bordering his small yard; but the farmer laid down his gun and, spry as a boy, jumped down the gorge after the chicken. This we ate later. At six-thirty we decided to try to make it to the wedding. Our clothes were still wet, so a boy lent me a shirt that was a 52

A Jungle Wedding whole size too small. My wife borrowed some walking shoes from the pastor's wife, which were too small for her but were better than the white shoes she had been told to wear! The church was now just three hills over. We slipped, slid and climbed, wondering why we should have been deceived into coming to such a difficult place. (We never did get to the wedding dinner or to the bride's house.) We finally arrived at the little jungle church. We were filthy with red and orange colored mud, and our bodies were beginning to get sore and cold from the damp clothing worn in the high mountains. We looked inside the simple little building, and by the light of ancient oil lamps we saw the bride, Carmen Perez, in the center of the room, sitting stiff as a board on the crude backless bench, while relatives, neighbors and friends gazed at her and whispered their opinions. The bride had been dressed in her nuptial attire since noon. She wore a white crepe dress with a white corona veil and white shoes, which were now quite mud-splashed. She held tenderly a bridal floral piece of white crepe paper lilies (very realistic in the light of the kerosene lamp). At the door of the church, welcoming the guests, stood the groom, Juan Serrano Dragoni (John Hill Dragon), a fine-looking robust young Puerto Rican about twenty. He was dressed in a black suit with a black leather tie of the policeman type. John works on a coffee finca The pastor informed us that Carmen had been converted only a year, at which time her entire family had accepted Christ and joined the jungle church. John was converted when he was a youngster, and had grown up a member of the local church. John and Carmen fell in love at church, and did most of their courting on their way to and from the services. We were given a seat behind the pulpit in the front of the church where all the movements could be seen. Some minutes

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Fifty Thousand Miles of Missionary Miracles before the wedding service began, a dirty little female ragamuffin with soiled clothes and hands, with no shoes and uncombed hair, came in looking for a seat, but there was none; therefore she walked out to the middle of the room and sat down beside the bride! There was a titter from the unmarried girls around the room, but the bride did not move her head even to look. The urchin sat admiring the bride until the minister had her move in order to give the groom a seat. For a time we forgot our cold, weary, muddy bodies. This was a grand occasion for the jungle community. Those who never attended religious meetings were present to see the beautiful sight. The doors and windows were jammed with people striving to catch a glimpse of the bride. The meeting began. It turned out to be as interesting as the ceremony. Everyone prayed in unison, including the bride and groom. After the hearty prayer the minister announced a hymn and the congregation began to sing Yes, Our Lord Is Coming Back to Earth Again, in Spanish. Then they sang How Firm a Foundation, followed by another community prayer. Next the pastor announced that he had brought a visitor with him who had traveled around the world. (It surely sounded foolish back in those jungles!) The pastor said he was sure the visitor would be glad to preach a sermon to them. Then he turned and told me to take my time and give them a good sermon. This was breathtaking. My wife interpreted for me and I spoke about the marriage of the Lamb of God and His Bride, the Church, contrasting the heavenly with the earthly. The people listened intently and patiently-including the bride and the groom. After the message the pastor announced that he would perform the ceremony. He called the bride and groom to the front of the building, and in the flickering light of the kerosene lamp began to read the ritual. When he asked for the ring the groom looked at his little finger, and so did the congregation, and there were two rings. No losing that ring, or permitting the best man 54

A Jungle Wedding to mislay it! He took the first one off and put it on the hand of his bride. The ritual read, the minister closed the book and proceeded to give a personal talk to the young couple, in the presence of the congregation. He told the young man in plain language that he was to be faithful to this one woman. Then he lectured to the girl, informing her that when she was single she could go where she pleased, but not now; and that she must serve her husband and take care of her home and children. Finally he admonished the young people in the audience that if they were seriously in love it was best to marry as quickly as possible, thereby giving no place to Satan. The meeting closed with another prayer and the large crowd left the church to go to the bride's home for a late dinner. It was most interesting to watch the long procession of jungle folk file down the mountain paths by the light of the mechones, a bottle filled with oil with a rag protruding from the top. Midnight passed, and the happy people, now filled with food, were ready to go home. The newlyweds bade farewell to both sets of parents and walked out into the night to cross a few muddy hills, a two-hour trip, to a small cottage already prepared by the groom. There was not much sleep for us that night, but the next morning we were up at dawn. Breakfast consisted of a cup of coffee, and then we started our trek back across the mountain trails toward civilization. We found it much easier to go back; much of the road was descending, whereas the day before it was ascending. Then, too (as every mule knows!), it is easier to go home. About noon we arrived back in Ponce. What a sorry sight we were! Our travel clothes which we had intended to take to South America were ruined; our feet were blistered until we could hardly limp. Yet there was another preaching meeting for the night. It matters not where we may roam in this vast world, we shall never forget the jungle wedding in Puerto Rico!

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CHAPTER 7

PUERTO RICO: GEM IN UNCLE SAM'S CROWN From the volume of notes we have compiled concerning Puerto Rico, it is necessary to condense this chapter into a brief outline. Four points will be discussed: religion, economics, politics and daily life. PUERTO RICO RELIGIOUSLY It is a sure fact that the brightest, happiest places on the island are the evangelical places of worship. Cod has blessed in an outstanding way the preaching of the Gospel by the Puerto Ricans.

Mission boards in the United States should know that Puerto Rico is no longer a mission field. The national ministers are now accomplishing the progressive work started by the missionaries. Every village and town has a Protestant church, and likely three or four. However, when the Puerto Ricans need the counsel of North American ministers, they will accept that counsel if given in the proper spirit. We were surprised to see that often the rural churches were as large as city churches. We visited several, but one in particular was interesting as it has 349 members in fellowship. To arrive at this country place of worship we rode horses over the hills, which were muddy because of the rain that day. It was my wife's first horseback ride and her horse must have known it as he felt 56

Puerto Rico: Gem in Uncle Sam's Crown obliged to play a few pranks! En route we saw very few houses and wondered where the congregation would come from. As we came over the last hill we heard the people singing lustily and soon saw the building lit by electric lights from a battery that the pastor personally recharges for each service. The place was packed to the doors. The pastor showed us how they had enlarged the building, as the former building would not accommodate the Christians. It was an inspiration to speak to these godly rural people who love the Gospel of Jesus Christ. In all the Puerto Rican churches we were impressed with the spontaneous singing. The majority of the songs were not English translations, as is the case in many countries called mission fields, but of the natives' own composition. This, no doubt, is a mark of spiritual maturity. The songs are different from our sacred hymns, but so is the personality of the people. The music that best fits their singing is that provided by the guitar, the guiro-a hollow gourd with grooves cut in the side and scraped with a piece of metal wire, the maracas-a gourd in which are seeds shaken in rhythm with the singing, and castanets-earshaped pieces of wood, manipulated by holding two of them in one hand and beating them together in time with the music. To us the music seems foreign. To them it is harmony. After visiting sixty-seven countries, I found it important to permit the people to worship God in their own way. Almost all the Puerto Rican ministers we met were young men with a great deal of enthusiasm, which speaks well for the future of the work. One of the fascinating aspects of the work was that every pastor has an assistant. This assistant conducts cottage meetings, leads the singing, takes care of any disturbance in the rear of the church during the service, runs errands for the pastor, paints the baby bed at the parsonage, builds a fence when it is necessary, and does other odd jobs that the pastor calls him to do.

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Fifty Thousand Miles of Missionary Miracles A demonstration of this vitality was witnessed in a tremendous youth convention staged in the city of Caguas, an industrial center with a population of fifty-three thousand. The Jovenes Para Cristo rally brought hundreds of young men and women from every part of the island. They placarded the town with handbills and posters; they marched through the streets carrying large banners and singing rally choruses. In the city plaza they halted for a brief service and thirteen sinners responded to their invitation to accept Christ. They had the largest auditorium available for the meetings, and it was packed for three nights. Sixty-four souls accepted Christ during the three days of meetings. I was asked to be the evening speaker and my wife sang special selections and played numbers on the accordion. These zealous young people made one realize that Puerto Rico has a future for Christ! Another aggressive mode of evangelism we observed and appreciated was their plaza or park meetings. These were planned for a number of cities. They are not fifteen-minute talks on a corner, but the pastor goes directly to the mayor and asks permission to erect a platform in the central plaza of the city and connects loud-speakers to the city lights; in other words, he conducts a full-dress service in the open air. Invariably there are hundreds who listen to the Gospel, for the plaza is a center of social activities in Latin America. In all these meetings we were impressed by the respect and attention the masses gave to the long program. Men and women accepted Christ in these public plaza services. The Latins are natural dramatists and they excel in radio broadcasts. There are Gospel programs on the radio every day, and several stations give free time to the Gospel. We were made to rejoice constantly at the openheartedness of the Puerto Ricans for the Gospel; usually every service brought some souls to confess Christ. An exciting and typical incident occurred one Monday night while I was preaching. A

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Puerto Rico: Gem in Uncle Sam's Crown young man came in the front door of the church, passed the ushers and walked to the front and knelt at the altar. The pastor knew he was not a Christian, and went to pray with him. Afterward we learned that he had refused Christ on Sunday night and was so under conviction that he could not wait for an invitation on Monday! In Puerto Rico we saw also a strange aspect of religion. In a home where we stayed we noticed an old lady across the street who always wore a bath towel wrapped around her head. The few wisps of hair that escaped the towel led us to believe that a rat's nest was underneath. The pastor told us the story of the old woman. She is a pious Roman Catholic and lives under a vow. Eighteen years before, her husband lay dying from a fever. He asked her to bring him a cool drink of water, but she was busy combing her hair so she told her husband to wait a few minutes. However, he was nearer death than she thought. He cursed her and prayed that she would never in her life have time to comb her hair, and he died. In penance she went to the priest and vowed that she would never comb her hair as long as she livedand that was eighteen years ago! PUERTO RICO ECONOMICALLY It is exceedingly difficult to make a just comparison of economic conditions. If one compares Puerto Rico with Haiti or the Dominican Republic, it is a thriving, modern society; but it is not as advanced by American standards.

Puerto Rico is an asset to the United States: it ranks seventh in our overseas customers. It is rich in some aspects. It produced a million tons of sugar last year. From the beginning of European penetration the West Indies have been a world "sugar bowl." This white gold has created sugar kings, produced high-handed politics, and made the average Puerto Rican poorer and poorer. The sugar that satisfies the "sweet tooth" of the North American is a "raw deal" to the average Puerto Rican.

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Fifty Thousand Miles of Missionary Miracles Living conditions among the poor are extremely difficult, whereas the rich live in luxurious hotels and palatial villas. The large cities have their fanquitos, or slum districts. It is estimated that three-fourths of the 2,000,000 people are "ill fed, ill clothed and ill housed." Often eight to ten people sleep in one room of a tiny ramshackle dwelling. One contributing factor is this: Puerto Rico is overpopulated; room must be made on some of the other islands. A sight that horrified us was the beggar boys in the various cities and towns. They are homeless and usually orphans who refuse to stay with relatives who mistreat them. They gather in bands and roam the streets. At night they sleep under doorsteps, under bridges, near fences. They beg for their food and will do little work for a meal or a ragged garment. Near a home where we stayed, each night we saw a boy sleeping on a doorstep. Feeling sorry for him one night, we slipped a dime into his hand for him to find when he awoke the following morning. The next day he came to beg meals at the home where we were staying. The lad was dressed in filthy rags and his hair had not been cut or combed for many weeks. I asked him if he wanted me to cut his hair. He said he did but wanted a friend of his to have a haircut at the same time. He brought a companion, as dirty as he, and who needed a haircut as badly. The friend with whom we were staying, a government employee, went to work on one boy and I took the other, and we cut their matted hair almost to their skulls. It was like cutting horse hair, their heads were so full of dirt and "living creatures." In the city of Ponce we were sitting in the plaza when a policeman came rushing up and took a shoeshine box from a boy about twelve. He carried the box across the street to the fire station, broke it up with an axe and kept the brushes and polish. The boy howled with anger, fear and sorrow. We asked the other boys why the police did this and they explained that this boy was very bad. As this was the way the child made his living, we called him over and talked to him about obeying older people

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Puerto Rico: Gem in Uncle Sam's Crown and respecting the police. He sat there sobbing. I asked him the minimum amount of money required to re-establish him in business, and he said he could make a box but would need about fifty cents to buy polish and secondhand brushes; however, he did not know where he would get the money. We gave him a half-dollar and cautioned him to be a good boy. After this experience, every time we passed through the plaza and the lad saw us carrying a parcel, he would run to us and beg to carry it free, or he would insist upon shining our shoes without charge. Then he would salute us as he walked away. I never dreamed that fifty cents could so refine a dirty street urchin and bring forth so much appreciation! In Puerto Rico we saw a great need for increased governmental interest in the welfare of these boys. Such concern would pay great dividends for the building of a better Puerto Rico for the future. PUERTO RICO POLITICALLY

The third division of this chapter concerns politics. The island is divided on its political future. Many want statehood, which would establish equality with our forty-eight states. The Independistas are working for full independence. They desire absolute sovereignty and complete separation from America. However, the people we spoke to said that if complete independence were given, a few political dictators would rule the island, and liberty would cease. I believe the average Puerto Rican shares the feelings of a prominent writer who declared in the World Journal of San Juan, "I compare Puerto Rico with a lonesome shipwreck in the high seas surrounded by sharks (the would-be Dictators, Indifference, Discrimination, Unfairness, Prejudice, Poverty, Sickness, Depression, Tyranny), but protected for the moment with a life saver (American Citizenship)." Today Puerto Rico is somewhat like India: it does not remember what the place was like when the "big brother" came to live there. Some people often complain and criticize American 61

Fifty Thousand Miles of Missionary Miracles help. If American property was taken away from the island there would be much greater struggle in their attempt to raise their socio-economic position. DAILY LIFE IN PUERTO RICO The last part of this chapter speaks of the daily life of the people. Living with the people is interesting. It is the only way to know them thoroughly, to understand their problems, to love them. This is sometimes at a personal cost. Living with friends in Puerto Rico meant eating beans and rice meal after meal. We slept in beds with fleas and bedbugs, stayed in houses infested with roaches-flying creatures an inch long and a half-inch wide! Mosquitoes! These venomous little pests had no mercy and no sense of capacity. We slept under a variety of mosquito nets. Some resembled an umbrella and others were tied to the bedposts-but it did not seem to matter what kind of net we used-the mosquitoes knew their nets! They come zooming in like jet planes and sting like scorpions. If one manages to get under the net and keep them from following him, all night the pests buzz lusty threats of what they will do when the victim emerges. The saddest aspect of our long trip had to do with the Puerto Rican mosquitoes. After visiting the Santurce Fanquito and being bitten by contaminated mosquitoes, Louise contracted malignant malaria. Her fever went above a hundred and three. She had scarcely recovered from this attack when, a few days later, the second came, and it was worse than the first. I consulted an American-education doctor about her and after hearing my description of the symptoms, he said she would perhaps be dead before morning. I had to preach that night; traveling to church on the bus, I wept. The native pastor sitting beside me wept. We prayed for her, and God wonderfully healed her. She regained strength quickly and was active in the meetings. We continued 62

Puerto Rico: Gem in Uncle Sam's Crown to Trinidad, to Brazil, up the Amazon River to Manaos, where there were plenty of mosquitoes, but we were attacked no more by malaria. We rejoiced greatly for this deliverance. One social aspect ot Puerto Rico which contrasts greatly with that of North America is the complete acceptance of racially mixed marriages. This is observed when one is introduced to a white man of Castilian blood, with blue eyes and light complexion, and he in turn proudly introduces his wife, who is a dark skinned women with the features of her African ancestors. They are happily married and there is no stigma attached to such a marriage. I have handled much foreign money in my travels, but in Puerto Rico our dollars are foreign. They call our American dollar a peso, our twenty-five cent piece is a peseta; our five-cent piece a villon; our one-cent piece a chavo. Beggar boys (professionals at the trade) approach one humbly and tearfully say, "Un chavito, por Javor" (A little penny, please!). The personality of the worldly people was apparent from a sign that we saw scribbled on the side of buses, drawn in fancy letters on placards, written on fences, scrawled on the sides of houses, made into small signs, and placed on bicycles. The words were Amory Viver (Love and Live), but "love" came first! In this part of the world, more important than world wars is the privilege of romance and singing love songs. One gets an interesting insight into the nature of the people from the nicknames they use. For example, the last seat in a bus is called "the kitchen." A woman getting off the bus shouted, "Is my little girl still on the bus?" Some one shouted back, "Yes, she is in the kitchen!" Among dark skinned people like the Puerto Ricans, an albino looks very much out of place; yet we saw more albinos there than any place in the world. We were told that this condition was caused by poor diet and lack of certain pigments in the

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Fifty Thousand Miles of Missionary Miracles system. The result is that their hair, eyelashes and eyebrows are white, and their skin and eyes are light pink and appear transparent. In one family in the town of Bayamon there are six children all of whom are albinos. Reluctantly we conclude our brief visit to Puerto Rico: gem in Uncle Sam's crown.

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CHAPTER 8

CARIBBEAN CAMEOS II

A TOUGH FELLOW"

Jenaro Mendez was "a tough fellow"! When he was intoxicated, there were two things he wanted to do: gamble and fight. Both he did so often that the community of Duque in eastern Puerto Rico came to know him as a tough fellow. It was the custom of Jenaro and his close acquaintances, after a payday, to get together in one of their homes, bring many bottles of liquor, and drink and gamble the entire night. Often the revel ended in a brawl in which some were wounded. One Saturday eveningJenaro and a group of his cronies were together in one of their customary binges of gambling and drinking. Some time during the evening Jenaro became involved in a quarrel with a couple of men. The cause of the quarrel was so insignificant that he does not remember it. Finally the men came to blows. The woman of the house demanded that the men go home, and they went out into the street. Embarrassed and angry, they continued to quarrel heatedly. There were two men against Jenaro, a young man and his stepfather. Feeling that he could not get the best of a fight with both of them, Jenaro asked another friend to lend him a machete (a knife about a yard long, made like a sword and usually used for work). 65

Fifty Thousand Miles of Missionary Miracles A little later the young assailant rushed up to Jenaro and said, "I am ready to carry on the fight," and simultaneously hit him on the side of his head with a stick. Both men were insane from alcohol. Jenaro slashed at him with the razor-like machete. With the first swing he ripped open the man's hand; with the second he cut his opponent's arms badly. Coming in closer for the third swing, he caught the man in the throat and nearly decapitated him. The young man fell into the ditch, wallowing in his own blood. Jenaro wandered into the night, laughing hysterically, spattered with the blood of his enemy. He spent the following twenty-two days in jail, where he had time to consider the fact that he had killed a man. I asked him if it worried him that he had taken a man's life. He replied that when he was sober the fact troubled him, but when he was drunk, he wanted to kill more victims. After twenty-two days in prison, he secured bail and was released on a ten-thousand-dollar bond. He immediately became intoxicated, as he thought it imperative to prove to his friends that he was still a tough fellow. While awaiting his trial, Jenaro moved to a different neighborhood. A group of Gospel believers had opened a hall just behind his house. From the hall came volumes of song and prayer. Jenaro listened to the Christians' songs and heard their prayers. Then, by seeming accident, he met the pastor on the street and was especially invited to attend the meetings. Jenaro went to their next meeting. It was all a mystery to him. The people were evidently exceedingly happy. They sang beautifully. The minister's sermon seemed almost a biography of Jenaro. The pastor concluded by declaring that God would forgive the worst sinners and give them a new life.

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Caribbean Cameos This was altogether new to Jenaro; he had never heard anything like it. When he was a child his father had been a Catholic, an unfaithful one, and his mother a spiritist. She acted as an amateur medium and often had seances in the home. Unfortunate Jenaro grew up without knowing God. Jenaro came to the altar, and the pastor knelt beside him. His first thought was that he had killed a man. He asked if God would forgive him. The pastor answered positively, and Jenaro began to pray. As he prayed he felt the assurance of sins forgiven and rose to testify to the people that God had forgiven a murderer. Jenaro was indeed a changed man. A new life came to him. He also became a fervent witness for the Lord and won a number of his family to Christ. The court convened and Jenaro was arraigned before the judge and jury. He obtained permission to speak, then told the entire story of how he had become a wicked man; he spoke also of the evil influence of alcohol and gambling. He pleaded guilty of killing the man while drunk in a fight which the other had begun. Then he told of his changed life, that he had gone to church and had found God, and that now he was a new man and did not drink or gamble. The court was visibly moved by the honest confession. To Jenaro's surprise his sentence was three years in jail. A few days later the judge reconsidered his case and reduced his term to two years. Jenaro served two years in the federal prison of Rio Piedras, Puerto Rico. They were two years of work for the government and two years for the Lord. In the prison he read his Bible every day and witnessed faithfully to fellow prisoners and guards. After his prison term Jenaro moved to Santurce and became a member of the church. The pastor told me that he gave a good testimony to the world and was a faithful Christian. 67

Fifty Thousand Miles of Missionary Miracles Today Senor Jenaro Mendez makes a living as a bread salesman. He tells his customers that he has two kinds of bread to offer: earthly bread and the eternal bread. A WILD MAN IN A CAGE "God still performs miracles," commented a prominent Puerto Rican physician as Segundino Velasquez walked out of the Santurce Municipal Hospital a rational man. Senor Segundino Velasquez is a slim man with prematurely gray hair. His physiognomy is predominantly Castilian. Gesturing dramatically, he graphically described the "hell on earth" which he experienced before Jesus Christ miraculously delivered him from demon possession. Hesitating at times, as if reluctant to tell the sordid story, Segundino unraveled one of the most exciting stories I have heard, revealing and exposing the ghastly evils of spiritism, the dominant religion of the isles of the Caribbean Sea. Segundino was three when his mother died. It was most interesting how he calculated his age. More than forty years ago a devastating tornado destroyed part of Puerto Rico. The tornado is called San Siriaco Tormenta because the hurricane came on the feast day dedicated to this saint. He stated, "Now, I was about six years old at San Siriaco, for my mother died three years before; therefore I must be forty-six years of age!" He said that many of the old Puerto Ricans reckon time in this manner. After the death of his mother, Segundino and his father lived with an uncle and aunt. It was this uncle and his father who taught him spiritism. Living in the rural district and having no entertainment, they discussed and practiced spiritism day and night. They purchased a book of spirit teachings (I saw them sold in abundance by vendors on the street corners), and used it as a family Bible. Nominally they were Roman Catholics, but they never went near a Catholic church. Because spiritism offered more excitement and mystery than Roman Catholicism,

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Caribbean Cameos the entire family accepted it. Thus Segundino grew up with no knowledge of the saving grace of Jesus Christ. As Segundino remembers, he was about eighteen when spiritism conquered his mind and world. For a long time he was an onlooker, but now he was possessed with the spirits. When he was twenty-three his family moved to the city of Santurce, the residential section of the capital city of San Juan. Here he attended powerful seances. He heard voices, saw spirits in the air, heard spirit rappings. Segundino was engrossed in this ether world of spirits. He gave his mind, soul, and body completely to the worship of spirits. Finally the sinister power of spiritism overwhelmed Segundino. He could not go to work, as he found it impossible to concentrate on material things. He had periodic spells in which he had no control over himself and did such strange things as jumping into the air and throwing chairs or other furniture. He confessed to his family that he was depressed when not under the influence of the spirits. The spiritual drug had become as intoxicating and habit-forming as liquor. Finally Segundino became violent when these spells came upon him. He destroyed furniture and threw objects at members of the family, injuring several of them. His relatives and neighbors became afraid of him because of his superhuman strength during these spells. Oftentimes when the spirits came upon him he smashed everything in reach, then tore off his clothes and ran down the street screaming wildly. On such occasions a number of men were required to catch and hold him. The spiritists could do nothing for the wild man and physicians were powerless before his demonic demonstrations. Segundino, in fact, was a modern demoniac of Gadara. Ultimately the municipal hospital consented to receive him into its psychopathic ward.

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Fifty Thousand Miles of Missionary Miracles In the hospital, Segundino became worse. He would not permit the attendants to approach him, but, like a wild animal, bit and scratched nurses and physicians alike. They were therefore obliged to place him in solitary confinement. His prison was a concrete cage with iron bars over a small door and window. The wild man immediately destroyed everything in his cell and ripped his clothes to shreds, while he roared like a lion. He fell on the floor and cast himself against the wall with terrific violence. Food was placed in the cage through the small window, but the maniac frequently seized it and threw it against the wall or wallowed in it on the floor. When guards came to clean the cell he fought them furiously. His cage became a sty of stench and filth. When his family came to visit him he cursed them as loudly as he could and would not permit them to enter his cell. The doctors predicted an early death. During the time Segundino was in the hospital, his brother, Juan, became a Christian, forsaking spiritism. He requested prayer in the Santurce church for his brother. Senora Jacinta, with a hospital group who regularly visited hospitals to distribute literature, went to the psychopathic ward and met the doctors. She informed them that the church would pray for the mad man. The doctors told them to pray, for only God could help such a person.

The same week that the church began to offer special prayers for the maniac, he began to improve. Senior Velasquez said that his mind became "tranquil." He stopped fighting. He asked for food and ate it all. He asked that his cell be cleaned. He asked for clothes and wore them. After a few days of good behavior he was released, by permission of the doctors, from the cage and placed in a ward with other patients. He became sociable and kind to the doctors and nurses. The Christians from the church came regularly to instruct him in the Bible and pray with him.

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Caribbean Cameos Segundino told them he thought he had been worshiping God through spiritism, but now he realized that he had worshiped demons. He promised to live a Christian life when he was released from the hospital. Three months from the time the church started to pray for the mad man, his brother took a new suit of clothes to the hospital for Segundino to wear home. All the doctors and nurses in the ward were present to bid him blessing as he started life anew. As he walked away, one of the doctors said, "God still performs miracles." The first place Segundino visited after leaving the hospital was the church, where he had many friends whom he had never met. Here he stood and testified of his deliverance from demon possession by the power of God, through the prayers of the Christians. Soon afterward he was baptized in water and received the Holy Spirit. Life was new. He was completely normal and exceedingly happy. Did God merely restore his mind? No. God gave him a better mind. Now Senor Velasquez memorizes entire chapters of the Bible and delights in quoting them. He knows most of the books of Matthew and Daniel, many of the Psalms and other portions of the Bible. Segundino brings a large home-study Bible to church with him. He holds it tenderly as he reads it, for it is his Book of Redemption. Segundino returns each week to the hospital where he was a mad man, to testify of Christ's power. The doctors and nurses welcome him, and he has won a number of souls to Christ. Truth is more exciting than fiction. One of the women workers who had visited Segundino in the hospital and assisted him in his sickness, became the object of his love. He courted her, proposed and they were married. Today they have a happy Christian home. Segundino makes a good living in his own little business. 71

Fifty Thousand Miles of Missionary Miracles I asked this man how long he had been freed from Satan's chains, and he replied, "For seven glorious years!" A wild man had been delivered from the horrible powers of spiritism by the effectual prayers of a praying and believing church! This is the mission of the evangelical Gospel.

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CHAPTER 9

VAGABONDING IN THE ANTILLES The Caribbean world is different in many aspects from both North America and Latin America. Almost all of the original inhabitants have been destroyed, and only the immigrants remain. In North America interracial marriages are often stigmatized, whereas in the Caribbean world the racial stratum resembles the rainbow. Chinese, East Indian, European, African blood-all mingle in one individual. This is not true of Latin America because the mixture in Mexico, Central and South America is primarily European with aboriginal inhabitants (except Brazil). In countries like Peru, Bolivia and Paraguay, the white race is poorly represented in comparison with the Indian. In the Caribbean world the population of African descent is in the ascendancy. The alchemy of interracial progeny has created a complex but picturesque people. The Caribbean world includes lands where nature's beauty distracts from hard work; here it seems natural to rest underneath a waving palm or swim in the tepid waters of the blue Caribbean. THE VIRGIN ISLANDS The Lodestar lifted rapidly from the San Juan air terminal runway and circled the ancient city and wall and castle built by the Spaniards. We were on our way to the Virgin Islands. It was interesting to know that we were riding on the same plane that

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Fifty Thousand Miles of Missionary Miracles we rode from New Orleans to Miami, as it had been transferred to the Caribbean route. The palm-lined coast of Puerto Rico is gorgeous from a few thousand feet above. The rough and rugged central mountain range that extends almost the length of Puerto Rico could be seen beautifully, and many of the thirteen hundred small streams that ripple down its granite sides could be seen meandering through green fields toward the sea. The waters between Puerto Rico and St. Thomas are every shade of blue; huge boulders protrude from the sea, and water from white to deep blue encircles them. We made a brief stop in St. Thomas and then continued to St. Croix, the largest island in the Virgin group, made up of fifty islets and bays. The United States government purchased the Virgin Islands from Denmark in 1917 for the sum of twenty-five million dollars. We thought it very strange that under the Royal Danish government the natives spoke English, but in Puerto Rico, under the American government, the natives speak Spanish, and in the aggregate have a distaste for English. The people of St. Croix, more than ninety percent of whom are of African descent, said they liked life better under the Danish Crown, when rich landowners lived on the island and managed the plantations. Under the Americans the island is badly run down and exceedingly poor. The entire island looks dilapidated. The present governor of the Virgin Islands is William Hastie. He is the first African American governor. Sitting on the docks in St. Croix was like sitting in a dream world. Everything was quiet and peaceful. Local people lolled around as if there were no work to be done; the small sailboats from the neighboring islands did a little inter-island commerce at the docks. A walk down the street was most interesting. The old towns of Christianstad and Frederickstad, situated at the two ends of the island, have Danish-style architecture, which gives an Old World atmosphere to the towns. The governor's

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Vagabonding in the Antilles house in Christianstad still has the Danish crown over the doorway. The countryside was exotic: there were plantation houses with slave shacks around, in bad need of repair, dense jungles and tropical flowers. The slow-moving natives, carrying bananas on their heads, spoke the most unusual lingo I have ever heard. It was considered to be English, but was most difficult to understand. One woman buying bananas brought on the little sailboat from another island did not think she was getting a bargain. She shouted at the seller," A-1-f-r-e-d, don't do me that!" The people were ultra-social. As we walked down the streets they congregated in small groups and discussed us among themselves. When we passed, one would say, "hello, what is your name? Where did you come from? Do you like it here?" We gave our names, then asked theirs and inquired how they were getting along during these hard times. As we walked down the main street one day, we approached a temporary detour. An entire block was roped off and all traffic was directed down a back street. We inquired about this and discovered that there was a special meeting in session at the town hall. The administrator and some of the town officials were present, so no one was allowed to pass lest they disturb the meeting. In St. Croix we stayed in a house of peculiar design. It had five floors, yet it was not a large house, and it was not five stories high. There were only a half-dozen or dozen steps between the floors. The top floor was a bedroom; down three steps toward the front of the house was the living room; then down about six steps toward the back of the house and under the top bedroom was another bedroom, were we slept. Three steps down, farther toward the back, was the dining room, and six steps lower was the kitchen; down the last flight of steps, at street level, was a primitive lavatory on the door of which was a bold sign in English: "Please do not spit on the floor."

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Fifty Thousand Miles of Missionary Miracles That we might speak to as many as possible, we took some of the folk in Christianstad and spoke in the country to a group there. Most of those to whom we preached were Puerto Ricans who had come to live in St. Croix and who now dominate much of the business of the Island. Completing our stay in St. Croix, and feeling as if we were living in another time, we took the plane back to St. Thomas, the capital of the Virgin Islands. This is a beautiful, verdant island thirteen miles long and from one to four miles wide. It is also historically significant. On the hill overlooking the bay is Bluebeard's Tower, now a hotel, where the notorious pirate supposedly watched for merchant ships to pass, so that he and his fellow pirates could conduct the lucrative business of capturing such cargo. In St. Thomas we were asked to preach in a mission. A local man led the meeting most entertainingly. When he began, there were three natives and the two of us present. The offering was taken, and I think the visitors provided the contributions! As I spoke to them they said, "Yeah. At'right. Amen. Sure." Before 1 stopped preaching we had a congregation of a dozen listening in the doorway, and therefore I addressed most of my remarks to them. We found both islands overrun with small missions. It was interesting to see European missions still outnumbering those from North America-a remnant of the Danish rule. The locals usually attend the one offering the most at the moment. To finish the rest of our island journey we were obliged to return to Puerto Rico and take a cargo boat from there. The S.S. Prince Bernhard finally loosed her hawsers and we drifted free from the dock; the engine whined and we steamed through the buoy-lined harbor of Ponce into the open Caribbean.

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Vagabonding in the Antilles The following morning there was a golden sunrise over an emerald sea, and no land or boat was in sight. Only the chugging of the ship's motors could be heard. It was a little rough and members of the party were miserable from mal de mer. The captain was a fine fellow and permitted us to have the run of the bridge where we could scan the horizon. The boat stopped en route at two of the Windward Islands: St. Lucia and Grenada. These remote islands were fascinating in their luxuriant tropical vegetation. St. Lucia's hectic history records the fact that seven times she has been under French rule and seven times also under the British, with the British in power at the present. It was about ten o'clock at night when we sighted this small island, twenty-seven miles long and fourteen miles wide. The harbor pilot did not answer the ship's call. Therefore, even though it was dangerous, the captain sailed into the beautiful land-locked harbor, but by providence the submarine net had been taken up a few days before. The harbor pilot explained, as we tied up at the dock, that he had been asleep, but that he had not undressed because they were expecting the Prince Bernhard. Awake or asleep, he got his pay! By the time the hawsers were securely tied, half of the people in Castries (the main town) were at the docks. During the war, and just after the war, they had little or no contact with the rest of the world. At the beginning of the war a German submarine entered the harbor and shelled and sunk the S.S. Lady Nelson while the ship was tied up at the wharf. Early the following morning the docks were lined with natives setting up portable markets. They had boxes filled with trinkets, beads, bracelets, fruits of various kinds-but there were only four passengers on board, and there were fifty venders with piles of goods. While the stevedores unloaded cement from Puerto Rico, the passengers strolled about the island. It was quickly perceptible that this island was still one of those out-ofthe-way spots remote from civilization. As we came off the boat 77

Fifty Thousand Miles of Missionary Miracles the venders ganged us, but we explained that we would go for a walk before doing business! Then some twenty-five or thirty followed along close at our heels to show us the way. It was most amusing to be trailed by a crowd explaining to the passersby what our business was and that we were taking a look at the town. Some of the women, afraid to leave their produce at the dock, called to us, "Please remember Mary when you return!" Another said pitifully, "Don't forget Clara!" We were told by a Presbyterian minister that about ninetyfive percent of the natives were nominally Roman Catholic and that, at the time, the priests permitted little interaction with Protestants. The Prince Bernhard stayed at St. Lucia until evening and then pulled away. A night and a day brought us to Grenada. Again there was no harbor pilot to guide us. The captain was angry and reported the fact to the authorities. Grenada is an island twentyone miles long and twelve miles wide. It is one of the spice islands. We found cass, cloves, nutmeg, mace, cinnamon, cacao, sapot and ginger for sale in the open market. In the exporting houses we saw the women breaking the nutmeg shells. The street was filled with the delightful aroma of the spice. Twentyfive to fifty women were working fast with small hammers, and shells were flying in all directions. The money in the islands of St. Lucia and Grenada was confusing. The natives used English silver, shillings and pence, but used Trinidad dollars for paper money. Their paper money was based on the decimal system and their silver was pound sterling. Trinidad now has its own money, whereas it once used Canadian dollars. However, the Trinidad money was not worth as much as the Canadian. The Trinidad government made a rubber stamp and marked the Canadian dollars "Trinidadian." An enterprising businessman purchased eight thousand dollars' worth of Trinidad currency, took it to Canada and asked a bank to redeem the same at face value. The bank refused, but in court they 78

1TH

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ISHES from

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Plantation workers receive the Gospel at Waller Field, Trinidad.

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" Vagabonding in the Antilles were obliged to do so because the Trinidad stamp was not legal. The man made a profit of twelve hundred dollars. In Grenada, we found an interesting native church. It was in the country, and the drive through the spice plantations and along the tropical sea was glorious. The house was full of natives who listened eagerly to two sermons. How wonderful it was to look from the church onto the Caribbean Sea and watch the silver path of the moon come directly toward us! After preaching in the country and returning weary from the journey, we went aboard ship and retired. The next day we sailed for Trinidad and the following morning we anchored in the flat, humid harbor of Port-of-Spain. We had had enough of vagabonding. We were ready for revivals again. It had taken us a week to cross from Puerto Rico.

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CHAPTER 10

KALEIDOSCOPIC TRINIDAD From Miami to Trinidad is about eighteen hundred beautiful miles. The West Indian archipelago has an area of more than ninety thousand miles and is dotted with countless islands: the Greater Antilles, the Bahamas, Cuba, Jamaica, Haiti, Santo Domingo, and Puerto Rico compose about four fifths of the area. The Lesser Antilles, or Little West Indies, spread out in diminutive green dots from Puerto Rico to Trinidad. From the vantage point of Trinidad, the southernmost tip of the West Indies, we could look toward the Greater and Lesser Antilles and witness the Caribbean area as a distinct world of its own. Such major powers as Britain, America, France, and Holland enforce foreign rule over millions of its people, and it has three independent states, Cuba, Haiti, and the Dominican Republic, as the envy of the rest. After living in this romantic and historic playground of buccaneers and pirates, millionaires and paupers, we decided that their individuality is more remarkable than their similarity! Trinidad lies ten degrees north of the Equator and is separated from Venezuela, South America, by the Gulf of Paria, seven miles across the egress from Trinidad through the Boca. It is believed that in the remote past Trinidad Island was part of the South American continent. The island that was discovered by Columbus in 1496, named "Trinity," and claimed for the Spanish

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Kaleidoscopic Trinidad Crown, is sixty-five miles tip to tip and forty-eight at its greatest width. It has an area of 1,862 square miles and today has a population of a half-million. Trinidad experienced a hectic history and witnessed many squirmishes between Spanish and British empire builders. Finally in 1802 it was given to Britain by the Treaty of Amiens and has remained a British possession. On a torrid August morning our little "wave jumper" plowed its way through the Boca de Navios and anchored in midstream at Port-of-Spain's front door. The ship gave its signals for arrival and hoisted its flags asking for medical, custom and immigration clearance. After two hours-steaming, suffocating hoursthe local officials, dressed in white suits, climbed aboard and issued us permits to land. We were greeted by the immigration officer who asked us to come to the alien office and register the following day. The customs officer, a tall youth with an overemphasized British accent, looked through our suitcases. As he plundered our luggage he asked with a tone of authority, "Have any cigarettes hidden?" "We do not smoke," I replied. "Have any liquor in these cases?" he continued. "Neither do we drink," I said. "Please ansah 'Yass' or 'No' to mah questions!" he demanded. At the docks we were met by Missionary Jamieson, a veteran of more than forty years in the West Indies, and found him capable of taking excellent care of visitors. Trinidad is one of the strangest cauldrons in the world. In this melting pot, African ancestry predominates; they were brought over as slaves, and in 1838, the abolition of slavery set them free. In the crucible of Trinidad life, Orient, Occident and Africa boil together. The races have intermarried. The Afro-Chi-

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Fifty Thousand Miles of Missionary Miracles nese, Indo-Chinese, Eurasians, Latin Americans (mostly from Venezuela) and English create every shade in the racial spectrum. A walk down the main street in rustic Port-of-Spain is almost like taking a trip around the world! Many of these people coming from the perimeter of the globe have retained many of their native customs and religions. The Hindus live as they did in India; they dress in Indian garb and build temples in which to worship. The hundred thousand Indians are scarcely touched by the Gospel. Many people still practice black magic. We visited an Islamic temple and were informed that there are fifty-three such temples on the island. The priest was gracious and willingly answered the questions we asked him. He obliged us to take off our shoes at the door, then showed us the holy spot, with the holy prayer rug pointing toward the sacred city of Mecca; we also saw the Koran, the Muslim's book of religious law. We noticed that the "faithful" had to bathe before they came in at a beautiful fount near the sanctuary door; also we noticed a large kitchen, with oversized hotel equipment, where the "faithful" indulged in gustatory activities. It was interesting to see that the men and women were completely separated at worship. They enter different doors, the women coming in from the rear. The temple is partitioned off so that the women cannot see the men or the priest or the holy prayer place pointing to Mecca. The only religion that offers woman equality is Christianity! We asked the priest what his religion taught regarding Jesus Christ. He replied," A great prophet like Mohammed." Then, as if confiding a great secret, he said that his holy books taught that Jesus was returning in the very near future to be king of the earth. "But," he shook his head and pulled at his short beard, "but there is first to be a world-revolution, when father will kill son and brother will kill brother, and out of that sorrow Jesus will appear as the world-Savior and world-ruler."

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Kaleidoscopic Trinidad Our group, composed of missionaries, was startled to hear such words from the mouth of an Islamic priest, who did not know who we were or what we believed. We then asked, rather skeptically, if Jesus really died on the Cross. It was amusing to watch him smile a shrewd Oriental smile and shake his head negatively. He explained, gesticulating with his hands and head, that Jesus slipped through the hands of the mob on the day of the crucifixion and that in their fury they grabbed a man who looked like Jesus and crucified him. The priest then laughed, shaking his head in the affirmative. "But what happened to Jesus?" our group inquired. As if revealing the secret of the ages, he said, "Why, He slipped off to heaven while no one was looking!" Frequently the priest referred to Abraham and Ishmael. We asked him who Ishmael was, and he told us that he was the great son of Abraham. Then we asked if Abraham had other children. The priest shook his head and said, "There are no authoritative records of Abraham having any other children except the great son Ishmael." This perversion of truth was of great interest to us. The Arab-Moslem world repudiates the birth of the Jews, even though they are in irrepressive evidence in Palestine today! Next we asked the priest if it would be possible for us to join his religion. He smiled broadly and bowed deeply. "Yes, we would welcome you into the truth." Then we asked what we would be obliged to do to join. He assured us it was simple. "Read the Koran, and say you believe, and you are a Muslim. We asked the priest to define sin. His response resembled that of a Christian Scientist. Gesturing, the bearded priest said, "There is no sin. Everything is good and has to be good. It is only wrong ideas that people have. There is no sin."

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Fifty Thousand Miles of Missionary Miracles This was our first interview with a Muslim as we stood in his temple for more than an hour. His views of Christ and the Bible surprised us. However, I can see how a Muslim could be a first-class Modernist and liberal, and how our heterodox preachers could be Islamic priests without reading the Koran! We also visited a number of Hindu temples built by the East Indians. These are more crude and more demoniac than the Islamic temples. Muslims have no idols whatsoever. The Hindus have all kinds of grotesque images and paintings. The Hindu priests spoke so little English that we made little progress with them. They could not explain their religion. One of the paintings depicted a woman with a serpent under her feet. We felt that this was a distorted story of redemption dating back several thousand years. The priests do not want strangers to walk in the inner sanctuary, but he did bring out some of his gods and we photographed the priest holding them. Surely these Hindus are a challenge to the Christian Church! However, one would be obliged to speak Hindi to reach them effectively, and then only by the power of God. TRINIDAD REVIVALS

The Prince Bernhard arrived in Trinidad in the morning and I spoke over the radio-diffusion in the afternoon and in the church that night. This was the initiation day for a full program for Trinidad. In Port-of-Spain, the Prince's Building, the largest auditorium on the island, was obtained for a special campaign. A great number accepted Christ in these meetings. Then we went to the smaller towns. In Tunapuna the Pamphilian High School was secured, in Arouca the Presbyterian Church, and at the great Waller Field air base, the "paint room," where men found new life. One of the interesting aspects of our stay in Trinidad was our first wedding anniversary. We had now been on the road a year, and had not even half completed our desired mission. We 86

Kaleidoscopic Trinidad had concluded the northern part of our journey above the Equator, and would now cross to the other side and work in the Southern Hemisphere. The missionaries and soldiers gave us a great anniversary day. I received a stuffed crocodile, and my wife was given a beautiful tray made of varicolored inlaid wood. The influence of the British colonial life on the natives is stronger than the American influence. They are more polite and less rebellious. For example, one day in Port-of-Spain a newsboy walked up to me with his armload of papers. He paused and said, "Good morning, sir. Would you care to purchase the Trinidad Guardian, . ?" SIT.

I responded negatively as I had already purchased a paper. The boy was not disappointed. He nodded his head courteously and replied, "Very well. Good day, sir!" PITCHLAKE Of all the scenic attractions of Trinidad, Pitch Lake is by far the most famous; it is one of the wonders of the world. The lake is three miles in circumference and covers an area of 109 acres; the asphalt is 285 feet deep in the center. For many years the tar has been "mined" and the cavities refill themselves in a day or two. Rain forms small pools of water on the black lake and the water is warm. In some places the texture of the pitch is so soft that it oozes out; at others a pick is required to dig it up. Tree trunks, limbs and other strange things come up in the tar from some unknown source at the bottom of the lake. If the place exploded and turned into a volcano, there would be one of the hottest fires in history. The asphalt is merely heated, poured into barrels and shipped around the world to pave streets and make victrola records and other articles.

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Fifty Thousand Miles of Missionary Miracles "GOOD-BYE, TRINIDAD!"

The powerful DC-3 left the runway at Piarco and started climbing a cloudy staircase for some ten thousand feet. Below us was Trinidad, still wrapped in the velvet draperies of night, which softly enfolded the island. But even as we looked, the horizon, barricaded with clouds, brightened, and all the world seemed to smile as a new day was born. Looking back on Trinidad, I thought, Trinidad is a quaint place. Some scenes are identical to demure spots in England; others make one believe that he is living in Canton or Shanghai, China; while gazing upon the Hindu beggars, jewelry venders and religious singers along Frederick Street, one would think himself in Calcutta. But all this makes exotic Trinidad.

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CHAPTER I I

HIS MAJESTY'S CARRERA PRISON Our ministry in Trinidad in churches, public halls, by radio and at an American military camp was interesting; but no experience was more exciting than preaching to the convicts at His Majesty's Carrera prison. ISLAND BASTILLE

Put, put, put, grunted the small prison launch as it pulled away from the mainland dock and the pilot turned its prow toward famous Carrera Prison Island in the Gulf of Faria across the channel from the mainland of Trinidad. I had been invited to speak at the penitentiary by Mr. Rogers, a Nazarene missionary, who was at the time a nonconformist chaplain. We were accompanied by Lieutenant Brock, from the American Air Force, an old-time friend of mine from the Middle West. The water was calm and the massive rock fortress was impressive as we half-circled it to get to the private dock of the prison. An orderly helped us ashore, and the first thing I noticed was a sign stating that if a person arrived at the penitentiary without authorization he would be liable to three years in prison. The chaplain assured me that our visit was authorized! Guards with guns met us, wrote our names on a slip of paper, and then

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Fifty Thousand Miles of Missionary Miracles told us to go forward. From the water's edge we ascended about a hundred and fifty or two hundred stone steps to the top of the rock, on which the prison is erected. All the way up there were beautiful colored mosaics worked into the sides of the hill and on both sides of the steps. This artistic work was done by the prisoners. Tens of thousands of small stones made intricate designs on the stone walls. The prisoners were ultra-polite. They took all of our parcels; one even carried my Bible when I was not using it. When we passed them at any time, they took off their hats. On top of the rock we experienced the security measures. We passed through great steel gates as the guards opened them and we gave our names again. We crossed a large courtyard and more heavy, squeaking metal gates opened. Here we again gave our names to the guards on duty. This was the prison yard; in a corner was a tropical porch, a roof without sides, where the prisoners were waiting for religious instructions. CONVICTS PRAY

It was Thursday morning at eight o'clock, the day and the hour when the inmates of Carrera penitentiary have their weekly religious service. As our group of three entered the place of worship the congregation of convicts rose in respect and then were seated. A lone guard was on duty in the rear. The service was opened with prayer. Then before the singing and preaching, Lieutenant Brock gave the men a resume of world news. No newspaper or radio is permitted among the prisoners, and services such as this are their only communication with the outside world. One could see an eagerness on the faces of the men as the tall, handsome American military man described the termination of hostilities and the end of Nazism and Fascism. I noticed one of the prisoners making notes of world 90

His Majesty's Carrera Prison events on a piece of toilet tissue; I presume he intended to give this information to the prisoners who were not at the meetings. While Missionary Rogers led the prisoners in hymns and prayer, I observed them closely. They did not resemble a "tough" group of men; they looked average and ordinary. It was sad to notice that many of them were young; some looked barely twenty. Most of them were African; a good number were Oriental Indians from Trinidad's community of more than a hundred thousand East Indians. None of the men looked undernourished or mistreated. They were a healthy, muscular group. The inmates were all dressed alike wearing blue shirts and blue pants. Their prison numbers were stamped on both pieces of clothing. All of them had their spoons in their belts and each had a can tied to him. This is their eating equipment. The prisoners were very religious. When the song service started the men slipped off their sandals and with their bare feet beat time on the cool pavement floor. As relaxation the missionary conducted a chorus-sing and permitted the men to choose their own choruses. Here the men unconsciously revealed their thoughts and desires. They requested Take the World, But Give Me Jesus; He'll Never let Go My Hand and When the Saints Go Marching In. With great fervor they sang the choruses of these songs. A bashful-looking prisoner handed up some written questions to be answered publicly. To my amazement the first question was, "Where did Cain get his wife?" The chaplain told them, "From his mother-in-law," and the prisoners howled with laughter. I think they knew the fellow who had sent up the question. In my sermon I spoke to them about the Cross of Christ and its true meaning and power to the unconverted. In all the world I have not had better attention. When I gave the appeal for sinners to leave sin and live for Christ, seven or eight prisoners raised their hands in decision for salvation.

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Fifty Thousand Miles of Missionary Miracles Not the least interesting person present was the guard on duty. He is a faithful Christian and entered heartily into the meeting. He told me after the service that several of the men had experienced miraculously changed lives as a result of these weekly meetings. This guard had a sheet of paper on which was the name of every prisoner present. He checked them into the meeting and then checked them out. A prisoner cannot come to the meeting until he receives special permission from the chief guard. The chief guard interviews the chaplain and asks him if he is willing for the man to start attending his meeting. The day I was there a Muslim youth asked if he could start attending the meetings and the chaplain gave his permission. After the meeting the visitors were shown around the prison. The barber shop was rather primitive, but spotlessly clean. A haircut was four cents. (Some of us almost decided to go to jail to get a haircut!). In the large workshop the men were making shoes, furniture, rugs, floor mats and other articles. This is sold on the market and the men use the money to buy what they need. On our way out, the guards showed us the solitary confinement cells. They are painted white, are immaculately clean and have one small window. There is no bed or chair. The prisoners sleep or sit on the hard stone floor. The men in these cells had broken prison rules and consequently were suffering unusually severe punishment.

It was noon and time to return to freedom. As we descended the spiral stone stairs to the dock and waved goodbye to the guards, the small launch went on its put, put, put way to Trinidad. Looking back at the impressive rock fortress, we understood more fully that "the way of the transgressor is hard."

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Trinidad child presented for dedication in 1945.

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Meeting in Princes Building, largest auditorium in Trinidad.

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CHAPTER 12

SPIRITISM IN THE NEW WORLD This chapter is a connecting link between the West Indies and Brazil. The subject under discussion is as important to the Church in the West Indies as in Brazil. It is Spiritism in the New World. Just as these lands are melting pots for many peoples and races, they have become a gathering place for importing those people's heathen superstitions, witchcraft, and demon worship. All this added to lands, many of which have histories of thousands of years of ritual sacrifice and paganism. The Spiritism of Puerto Rico, the voodooism of Haiti, the shangoism of Trinidad, the candomble of Brazil - all are forms of witchcraft causing a great wave of spiritual darkness over these areas, which have become a curse to the Western World. PUERTO RICO Spiritism is a powerful factor in Puerto Rico. It is a respected and established religion. Doctors and lawyers are not ashamed to be recognized members of the cults; its deadly doctrines have found their way even into high intellectual circles in the University of Puerto Rico. In San Juan the spiritists have a radio program-and a good one. Their church is called the Casa de las Almas-"The House of Souls." 95

Fifty Thousand Miles of Missionary Miracles Our contacts with evil religion on this tour were so numerous that we feel it imperative to present a detailed discussion of the subject. We were horrified to see venders of religious articles selling spiritist goods at the same time. I stopped at a sidewalk vender near a church and he was selling printed prayers, holy pictures of saints, rosaries and a book entitled El Evangelia Segun el Espiritismo (The Gospel According to Spiritism). I asked the man if the people who bought the small statues of saints, the printed prayers and the rosaries also purchased the book on spiritism-and he assured me that all the articles were intended for the faithful! In my former book Through Blood and Fire in Latin America, I stated that the people of Latin America among the masses were headed in two directions: toward infidelity or cultism. This statement has been verified again and again on this journey around the great southern continent. It seemed a strange fact that subscribing to spiritism was of lesser importance than crossing the Catholic-Protestant barrier in Latin America. As a remarkable example of this I will give you a brief description of two good friends we met in Puerto Rico. They are Manuel and Amina Velez. Both are graduates of the University of Puerto Rico, and when God saved them, Manuel was an infidel and Amina a spiritist-two vastly different beliefs acquired while these students were attending the university. "You are a book of lies!" screamed Manuel Ramon Velez as he violently kicked El Evangelio Segun el Espiritismo across the floor. At the moment Amina, his wife, was seemingly dying in the agonies of childbirth, and the mockery of spiritism overwhelmed the young government social agent. He firmly resolved to abandon spiritism and seek to find God through some other means.

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Manuel was reared in an irreligious home, and had no knowledge of God. His father was a pharmacist for twenty-five years and is now a retired farmer. Manuel says that his father cursed God when it rained too much and cursed Him when it did not rain at all; otherwise he did not talk about God. The Puerto Rican youth came to maturity with strange and curious questions beating at his heart. He soliloquized, Why was I born like an animal, and why must I die like an animal? Who made the stars, the mountains and the flowers-and why? The world was an enigma to Manuel. When he was seven, a strange and oppressive fear overshadowed the life of Manuel; the monster fear prostrated the youth, confining him to bed; he overcame this, but when he was sixteen, the fear came again with greater force. He could not sleep at night, and in the mornings he would rise with bulging red eyes and pale face; he had not slept a wink. He was afraid to leave the house, and therefore discontinued high school. A doctor diagnosed the case but found nothing wrong with the lad. However, for six months he lived in mortal fear of some unknown power. Eventually the fear lifted and he returned to school. Finishing high school, he enrolled in the University of Puerto Rico at Rio Peidras. Here in the exhuberance of campus life his tormenting fears were drowned in sensual amusements. It was in the university that he acquired the alcohol habit. On one occasion, at a special fraternity dinner and dance he and some companions were intoxicated and fell down a staircase into the yard. Then the drunks attempted to help each other up until five of them were sprawled on the campus grounds. After graduating from the university, Manuel was a habitual drunkard. He lost his friends. In his own words, he became indignant toward the entire world. He avoided his acquaintances. He did not speak to anyone. While in this introverted state of

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Fifty Thousand Miles of Missionary Miracles mind he decided that he wanted to be a help to others. He stopped drinking. He sympathized with poor people and helped them with his limited resources. This charity ultimately led him to his lifework as a government rehabilitation agent. Manuel did not believe there was a God. In the university he had studied geology, anthropology and other related subjects; now he had a scientific turn of mind. No one had ever told him about God and the true story of Jesus Christ as the Savior of the world. He had never prayed. The first prayer he uttered was during a moment of despair, when he took four candles off a birthday cake and burned them privately in his bedroom. He does not know why he burned them, as he still did not believe that there was a God. WORK AND LOVE

In 1938, Manuel was sent to the town of Manati to do social work. He was pleased and contented helping the poor people. For example, he examined the case of a crippled boy, requesting the United States government to pay for his education thus making it possible for him to learn a trade, and then lend him a small amount of money to get him started in business. Manuel's office was in the high school building in Manati. One day he heard the news of a new teacher who had arrived. Everyone was speaking about the charming young lady; therefore Manuel arranged an introduction. Amina Vinas, from a prominent family in Arecibo, was a university graduate and a teacher in English-the highest paid teachers in Puerto Rican schools. These two young people soon learned they had much in common. They had matriculated at the same alma mater. They loved the same kind of books and were interested in the same subjects. Both spoke English. Coming from his office one day, Manuel concluded, "Here in the mountains in a small town, far away from my city of Ponce, I have met Amina, the most wonderful girl in the world. Though

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Spiritism in the New World she comes from a wealthy family she is willing to live here and teach English. Surely a Big Hand of Destiny has brought us together. Our lives will change." Manuel did his part in changing their lives. Two months after the lovely teacher arrived, the government agent proposed. The next year they married. THE HOME OF SPIRITISM Soon after they were married, Manuel discovered that his wife was gifted in spiritism. He had had no contact with spiritism and therefore was not interested. Amina confessed that she had discovered spiritism in the university. A lawyer had taken her to a seance in Santurce. Here the teacher suggested that many of the intellectuals of Puerto Rico are spiritists. (Since this interview I have inquired diligently and find that it is a widespread opinion.) During her last year at college, Amina became a regular attendant at spiritist meetings. One day as she sat in class her hand began to shake violently and she had no power to stop it. She left class and, not knowing what to do, went to the spiritist medium for assistance. The medium seated her at a table and gave her a pencil and paper. Her hand moved so fast she could not tell what it was doing. At first it made drawings. The medium said they were drawings of spirit life. To Amina they were foolish lines. The medium told her she was destined to be a great spiritist medium. That night she could not sleep, as her hand moved all night. The lawyer who had taken her to spiritist meetings told her to give herself to the power and that it would grow and become more apparent as to what it desired. A fear came into Amina's heart, as after this she often had to leave classes because her hand shook so violently that she was unable to control it. When Manuel heard this he persuaded his wife to continue the spirit workings. It functioned. They spent half a day or half a

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Fifty Thousand Miles of Missionary Miracles night talking to spirits. The spirits talked about the war, about the fall of countries-and sometimes talked nonsense! Manuel was excited. He had discovered the supernatural. He thought he had found God. They would close themselves in a room, and Amina would begin writing. Once the spirits said, "I am your cousin Yeyo. Do you remember me?" Manuel did. This was the nickname of a dead cousin who was very rich and had died in drunken debauchery. Spiritism so intrigued Manuel that he did not want to work, eat or sleep. He wanted only to talk with spirits. Amina, against her will, became an incubator for evil spirit manifestations. However, by checking their written documents carefully, they found that the spirits often lied to them. A week before their child was born. Manuel and Amina were out for a walk. Amina says the spirits threw her down. It was a severe fall, causing her to lose consciousness. She was extremely ill when their child was born, and in a frenzy Manuel cursed spiritism and determined to abandon it. Ten days after the birth of their daughter, Eillen, Manuel and his brother-in-law were celebrating the event with a beer party. While sitting in a chair, Amina collapsed and was carried to bed. There she remained for six long months, weak, fearful and believed she would never leave the bed alive. However, she continued to believe in spiritism and read another book on the subject. Meanwhile the government moved Manuel to another town. In this town of Pajuil (a fruit), in his new office in the school, Manuel found a small blue book. It was a New Testament. He found it was printed by the Scottish National Bible Society, Glasgow, Scotland. Manuel opened this book and read. It seemed like a personal letter. He looked at the wall of his office and muttered. "This Book can save me! It will heal my wife, too." Thus he took it home in his pocket. He read it to his wife and he read it at his office. When I saw the small blue-backed Testament it was worn badly, and is now not in use.

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Spiritism in the New World In his social work, as Manuel visited the poorest families, he took this new Book and read it to the people. He told them it would help them out of their troubles. One night Manuel had a vision. He saw a great oven burning with great heat. The lid was lifted by means of great chains. He saw it open and billows of smoke rolled out. He was terrified and jumping out of bed, he fell on the floor and began to cry to God that he might not go to such a furnace. This is three o'clock in the morning. He returned to bed, and while he slept, he dreamed. A strange man with long hair came and boasted that he could lift a chair without touching it. At that moment a voice told him this was spiritism and that it was evil. Now, Manuel knew spiritism was wrong, but he had no idea what was right. He went to sleep and dreamed a second time. This time he was in a Catholic church in which there were many images. There were lustful people there, clothed in filthy rags, and the floor was littered with filth. A voice said that this was not the right way. Manuel awoke and was filled with apprehension. Now he believed that in neither spiritism nor Roman Catholicism would he find his answer. He slept a third time and dreamed again. He was walking through the streets and saw a church. Upon investigating, he saw the name: Iglesia Evangelica. He dreamed that he walked inside and there was only one man present. He felt a wonderful joy after entering the building, and approaching the man, asked many questions. They knelt and prayed. Then he awoke. Manuel was puzzled. He had dreamed three times in one night! There must be a God, and He is showing me the way to heaven. Manuel mused. As yet he had never been to a Protestant church. A few days later a man came to Manuel's office. Before entering, he walked up and down in front of the door. After entering, he noticed first the Testament on Manuel's desk. "Are you an Evangelica?" the man asked. "No, I am nothing," replied Manuel. "I found this Book on my desk and I know that it is the Book of

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Fifty Thousand Miles of Missionary Miracles God." The man invited him to church to hear the Book expounded by a minister. Manuel told the man that his wife was sick and that he would not leave to go to a meeting. The man asked if the ladies of the church could visit his wife and pray with her. Manuel was grateful for this, and the Christian women came and prayed. Amina accepted Christ, and three days later she left her bed for the first time since she had collapsed after the birth of the child. This splendid young couple are now members of our church in Arecibo. Amina teaches English in the Arecibo school and Manuel is the director of the local government rehabilitation project. These two were converted from atheism and spiritism-two great avenues of evil in the last days. Now Manuel and Amina are among the happiest Christians we met in Puerto Rico. ACURANDERA A brief interview with Maria Pedraz, a modern "witch of Endor," will give a clearer view of Africa in the New World. She informs us that spiritists see spirits in a glass of water, in dark or semi-dark rooms, in a cloud. She described the two classes of spirits-the inferior and the superior. Those who appear bloody, ragged or in similar condition, are inferior; those who appear as angels are superior. Here is her story. Maria Pedraz is thirty-nine and looks sixty. The woman's shriveled body, wizened face and lifeless hair indicate a life of distress and disillusionment. There is a reason for this premature old age. Until about two years ago Maria had lived in vital contact with the spirit world for more than a quarter of a century. She possessed wide notoriety as a powerful curandera-a feminine witch doctor or native

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Spiritism in the New World medical woman. By this means she had made her livelihood since a child. A LAUGHING DEVIL

At the tender age of ten, Maria was taken seriously ill and her parents despaired of her life. They were ignorant folk and did not know what to do for the child as they had no money to purchase professional assistance. An interested neighbor woman asked for permission to take the ailing girl to a special meeting where, she declared, the "spirits" would heal her. The anxious parents, desiring that their daughter be healed, did not inquire about the type of meeting but willingly gave their consent for Maria to go and obtain healing. The neighbor took Maria to a powerful low-type spiritist seance. Senor Pedraz believes she was relieved from her illness by the spiritists. However, she contracted something more terrible than her sickness. From that night, weird attacks of laughter came upon her, making her laugh hysterically. This "evil spirit of laughter" sent cold chills up the spines of those who heard. This spirit possessed her at will, and Maria had no power to control the laughter or the melancholy that followed. THE CALL TO HEAL CHILDREN

The second turning point in the curandera's life occurred when she was sixteen. Standing at an open window on the second floor of a building, she suddenly trembled violently and with a terrifying scream, plunged through the window to the ground. To her amazement, and to the surprise of all, she suffered no bodily injury from the accident. At this moment an inward spirit told her she possessed great power and informed her that her mission in life was to heal children. These new spirit voices led her into the country and told her to take certain herbs and prepare them for the healing of children. Maria maintains that many sick and suffering children were "healed" by her witchcraft. Her fame spread quickly through the countryside: a young girl had

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Fifty Thousand Miles of Missionary Miracles obtained miraculous power. The superstitious people came to see the girl wonder, and the sick came seeking healing. I asked her why she was specially called to heal children. She did not know, but explained that perhaps because her life had been captured by Satan when she was only ten, he desired to capture thousands of innocent children through her. "Senora Pedraz," I queried, "what did you do when someone came and sought information about their personal lives or desired healings?" "First I' got in the spirit,"' she replied retrospectively. "Then I called my 'Dwindi,' a spirit that came and took control of my soul and mind, escorting me into spiritual realms." She confessed that this "Dwindi" was her second self who created in her a dual personality. This spirit she could see with her soul eyes. For more than twenty-five years Maria Pedraz lived in a spirit coma. During this time, devils guided and maneuvered her life in most dreadful ways. At no moment during those long years was she completely normal. She says that the spirits were with her both night and day. One of Maria's mediumistic means of obtaining netherworld information was by tapping on a table with a pencil. She asked questions and received answers through a given number of taps. She says that at other times her spirit left her body and traveled to various homes, and she could see what was happening there. This particular phenomenon usually occurred when a person desired information regarding someone living in another part of the country. Maria also predicted future events and told fortunes by casting dice. I asked her how this was done, and what the various combinations of numbers on the dice meant. She explained that she was not conscious at the time, and therefore did not know what numbers the dice revealed or what she told the inquirer. She was confident that the dots on the dice had nothing to do with the calculating-unless the spirits counted 104

Spiritism in the New World them! She also had visions in the night. One night she saw a strange woman whom she had never met, and the spirits told her that the woman would come to inquire of her. The very next day a woman from the city of Ponce, many miles from her village, came and said that a spirit had given her Maria's name and address and assured her that Maria could tell her fortune. Maria replied, "Yes, I saw you last night in a vision and can tell you what to do." MONDAY AND FRIDAY During our conversation, in which my wife interpreted and Pastor Rios assisted with the story, Senora Pedraz said there were two important days of the week for the curandera-Monday and Friday. Monday is teaching day. Each Monday Maria's students (she had hundreds during a period of more than twenty-five years), came to her house and spent the day studying the mysteries of spiritism. I asked her what she taught and if she used textbooks. The curandera said she did not know what she taught as she was in a spirit coma during the entire time of instruction. The doctrines came directly from the evil spirits. Maria said that among the mediums, Monday is known as "The Day of the Guardian Angels." This is the special day when the" angels" reveal secrets to the worshipers. Friday is healing day. On Fridays, miracles can be performed more easily because the spirits are near to help, she explained. Maria believed she had special power on this day. Upon inquiry I found that the two days are also observed by other spiritists in Puerto Rico. HOW THE GOSPEL CAME

It is remarkable how the glorious Gospel finds its way into the darkest spots of the world. Maria's sister heard the Gospel and accepted Christ, then later came to live with Maria. This Christian sister brought a powerful influence into the home. Maria found it difficult to communicate with her spirits after her sister arrived. She felt that her life had been bound by an105

Fifty Thousand Miles of Missionary Miracles other power and that a great inward conflict was being waged. In desperation she fasted and prayed for five days for her spirits to return, but there was no response. Maria was disturbed and disgusted. This revealed that her sister possessed a greater power than she. Senora Pedraz heard her first Gospel message on a street corner, the place where thousands of Puerto Ricans for the first time listen to the story of salvation. This first sermon convicted her. Later she consented to go with her sister to church. She was already determined to serve God, and the same day she attended the church service, she went to the homes of her students and told them there would be no more classes, for she was to become a creyente (believer) that night. She sent word to her regular clients not to return as the spirits no longer talked with her. That night after the sermon, without hesitation, and without anyone speaking to her, she responded to the appeal of the pastor and accepted Christ. She was ignorant of true spiritual ways but did willingly all that she was told to do. As she stood after prayer, a great burden fell from her shoulders. The experience was so real that she turned to see what that burden was! Her sins were gone, and her heart was overjoyed. She purchased a Bible and started studying it diligently. She came to all the meetings and eagerly learned more about the Gospel. Sadness and depression had left her heart. A modern witch had been cleansed and changed by the power of God! With a hearty laugh Maria said, "The spiritists broadcast the news that I had gone crazy and for no one to believe me. But in reality I had just come to myself when I found Christ!" THE CHALLENGE

I asked Senora Pedraz if there were many spiritists in Puerto Rico. Her attitude was explosive. "Sure! A great many people of the island are afraid of spirits; they are willing to consult spiritism in times of trouble." 106

Spiritism in the New World Spiritism is increasing rapidly throughout the world. Satan, knowing his time is short, is making his last stand. The people of God should accept the challenge and combat these forces of darkness. "He that is within you is greater than he that is in the world." Spiritism has a powerful hold over the population of Trinidad. One of its most repulsive religions is shangoism, a vile, vulgar form of Satan worship which employs the blood of animals and fowls. In Brazil, spiritism is recognized by the government as a religion. Donald Pierson, from the School of Free Sociology and Politics in Sao Paulo, in his recent book O Candomble Da Bahia, gives a graphic account of this witchcraft from a scientific observer's viewpoint. He studied the religion for twenty-two months and became acquainted with the leaders of each large center in the Cidade do Salvador, the capital of the state of Bahia. Mr. Pierson states that they are recognized by the government under the name Uniao das Sectas Afro-Brasileiras da Bahia (Union of Sects Afro-Brazilian of Bahia). Their charter was given in 1937. Permit me to describe a strange night in Bahia. How do you think God feels as He looks upon the following scenes? It was Saturday night and we had designated it as children's night. An estimated one thousand children were present. It was a grand meeting with candies for all. The children sang heartily. We spoke to them about serving God while they were young, and cited Moses, David and Samuel as examples of great men who served God in their youth. It was thrilling. Only eternity will reveal the benefits of that night.

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Fifty Thousand Miles of Missionary Miracles Picture the second scene. As we passed the downtown section we saw that famous annual Fiesta de Nossa Sra. De Conception (Feast to our Lady of Conception). In front of the Roman Catholic church that housed the statue of the virgin were dozens of gambling booths: the church was engaging in a profitable lottery business. In the street a brass band was playing dance music. Up and down the street for a block the men and women and boys and girls were dancing-in the name of religion. The people of the city told me that the annual fiesta always brought immoral repercussions. The newspapers joined the enthusiasm of the carnival. The headlines read: Hosannah to Our Lady of Conception. The next scene is this. When we arrived home, the spiritists were make so much noise in their upstairs auditorium about a block away that we could not rest. Therefore we ventured out to visit their meeting. We were admitted by the doorman, and I shall never forget the experience. To our surprise, most of the people were affluent and well dressed. The atmosphere was charged with a strange power. One woman dancer, dressed in gypsy clothes, had a sword and flashed it constantly from side to side as she danced around the room. Her eyes flashed fire as she looked at us. She was under hypnotic power. The chief of the meetings is the Pai Santo (Father Saint). He is the high priest and spiritual leader of the people. He called his members fillza and filhos santos (son and daughter saints). When we arrived, the pai santo was writhing like a serpent and barking like a dog (his barking, which we had heard a block away, prompted our investigation) as he knelt before an altar complete with candles and burning incense. Their eyes looked like live coals. The onlookers, standing against the wall, were clapping their hands and joining in the singing. A young girl who seemed more distraught than the others was wearing a red cap; we were told that the spirit had "descended" on her that night. A couple of drummers with small primitive

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Spiritism in the New World drums made weird music. Pai Santo rose from the altar and seizing the girl wearing the red cap, embraced her and kissed her. All the dancers were barefooted. A friend who had lived here many years said they were not as "inspired" that night as on other occasions. At times they have a chair in the middle of a room and dance around it. The chair starts turning also as they clap their hands and sing. Occasionally they take the blood of a black rooster, a goat or a pig and drink it as, in wild frenzy, they invoke demon power upon their gatherings. It is not unusual for the police to break up their meetings because they become too boisterous.

After returning home we heard them shout, "We will worship thee! We will adore thee!" Then the evil pai santo answered with a loud yelp like a pleased dog. People who say there is no personal devil repudiate more than two hundred direct Biblical references to this sinister personality, and reveal their great ignorance of the world around us "that lieth in the evil one."

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CHAPTER 13

WINGS OVER THE AMAZON The tropical storm crashed upon the Pan American plane as it flew low over the raging Amazon River. Our journey from Trinidad to Brazil had been most pleasant until fifteen minutes before we landed in Belem, when a torrential rainstorm broke upon us. The great plane trembled and shook as it attempted to come in for a landing. After it finally settled down on the military runway, the storm was still so severe that the passengers were obliged to remain aboard for ten minutes while waiting for the tempest to abate.

It had been a grand day. Leaving the island of Trinidad, we had flown south toward the huge sub-continent of South America; almost immediately we were crossing the flood waters of the Orinoco River Basin and could see its tributaries drawing Egyptianlike hieroglyphics on the earth. We first deplaned in British Guiana, a rugged-looking territory. Our next stop was in Dutch Guiana, called Surinam, where the natives speak Takitaki, Dutch and English. Our last stop was French Guiana. Boarding the plane, we journeyed from Cayenne, the capital of French Guiana, across the Equator to Belem, about five hundred and fifty miles. At Pan American Airway's downtown office, my wife and I were met by Senora Lydia Nelson and Pastor Pereiro. They assured us of a happy time in Belem, and as hotel rooms were at a premium, a comfortable room had been previously engaged for 110

Wings Over the Amazon

us at Hotel Grande. The national pastor asked if I was willing to speak that night, and I told him I was. We had spoken in Trinidad on Sunday night, and by the marvel of modern air travel spoke in Brazil on Monday-without feeling weary! Brazil is truly El Colosso of the ten South American republics, and covers about half the land area of the continent. It has four thousand miles of Atlantic coast line, which we traversed from the north to the south as we carried the Gospel of salvation. METROPOLIS OF THE AMAZON Belem was founded in 1615 at the confluence of two rivers, both part of the Amazon system but separated from the "river sea" by the great island of Marajo, a small continent larger than Belgium. Belem lies ninety miles up the Amazon from the Pacific Ocean. The first settlers arrived during the Christmas season, and therefore named the settlement Nossa Senhora de Belem, or "Our Lady of Bethlehem." Belem is the capital of the rich tropical state of Para; from 1890 to 1910 the city glittered with fabulous wealth gleaned from the wild rubber trees, which literally oozed black gold. The importance of Brazilian rubber shrank-and so did the prosperity of Belem. However, it is still a city of 303,740 population. Belem remains the great port of the lower Amazon, exporting tons of rubber, Brazil nuts, cacao and timber to all parts of the world. In Belem we spoke for Rev. Nels Nelson, a Swedish-born missionary. His work is tremendous, and his church has 3,700 baptized members. We enjoyed large crowds and a fine reception to the Gospel; Pastor Nelson kept a record of 140 persons who accepted Christ during our special meetings. We were happy for this spontaneous revival and rejoiced in the people's eagerness for the Gospel of Christ.

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Fifty Thousand Miles of Missionary Miracles After two days of meetings in Belem, our plans were developed for a flight up the Amazon River. This was a dream coming true, because for many years I had desired to travel up the mighty Amazon River and preach the Gospel. Our honeymoon provided this opportunity. However, before concluding this description of Belem I must describe one of the largest religious processions I have ever witnessed. VIRGIN WORSHIP

A few mornings after we arrived in Belem, we were awakened at six a.m. by cannon shots. There had been talk of a revolution in the country and we thought perhaps it was under way. But later when we went to breakfast and asked the reason for all the noise, it was explained that a religious fiesta, the largest of the year, had begun and would continue for two weeks including three Sundays. It was their annual feast to the Senhora de Nazareth (Lady of Nazareth). We became accustomed to hearing, each day afterward, cannon shots at six a.m., at noon, and six in the evening. The first Sunday of the fiesta we heard at five a.m. the shots which marked the biggest day of the feast. At eight-thirty a great procession began which lasted for many hours. Brazilian soldiers came first with a brass band and a miniature castle borne by men. Following the soldiers were banners for Mary, statues of all sizes, and thousands of people; the majority of the worshipers were barefoot, evidence that they had made a special pledge to Mary. Almost everyone carried a present for the Virgin. The gifts were varied: pineapples, watermelons, shoes, candles, images, liquors, a goat, and numerous other offerings were carried or led along to throw to Mary's image as they passed or to be given when the worshipers arrived at the church.

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Wings Over the Amazon Ropes surrounding the main image of Mary held back the multitudes. Hundreds of worshipers pushed and pulled endeavoring to get hold of this rope. Some of the devotees had drunk too much liquor and were staggering. As thousands of humans surged through the streets, some became infuriated because of the pushing. We saw one man throw his gift, a pineapple, and it hit another man on the side of the head. One section of the procession was for the children, who were dressed to represent angels. They wore long gowns, some white, some pale pink and others light blue, with huge feather wings on the shoulders. The little "angels" could not take the excitement very well. Before long some were being carried, others were wailing loudly, and after a few blocks of walking all were exceedingly bedraggled. In front of the main church, dedicated to the worship of Mary, a large bazaar, similar to a county fair, with side shows and gambling devices, was set up. Along the sidewalks were liquor stands where nuns served drinks. Over the center of the two main streets in front of the fair was a huge image of Mary made of cardboard and studded with hundreds of electric-light bulbs. A young Brazilian Christian said that the scene reminded him of Vanity Fair in Pilgrim's Progress. We went on our way to our own church service. At the close of the morning service, three people came forward for salvation. To our surprise all three had participated in the religious procession; a woman who came to the altar barefooted was one of these who had made a vow to Mary. She also carried candles and an image. But, praise God, she found the true Light of the World that morning, Jesus Christ, and went home rejoicing in a religion of the heart and soul!

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Fifty Thousand Miles of Missionary Miracles The following story was written while the Baby Clipper was carrying us up the Amazon, the widest and deepest river in the world: The night clerk at the Hotel Grande called us before five a.m. At six o'clock the two travelers had finished breakfast and boarded a taxi for the seaplane terminal. After customs, immigration, and medical formalities had been completed, the ground crew hauled the Baby Clipper from its hangar and the captain warmed up the engines for the Amazon run. As the passengers were called aboard we admired the trim eleven-seater clipper. Rather than entering through the side, as with a land plane, we mounted a ladder and entered from the top. The native boys pushed the silver "duck" into the muddy Amazon, the waters splashing up over the windows. The seaplane taxied out a few miles to midstream, and after a final test of the motors had been made, madly raced through the water for a take-off. We could see nothing but muddy water on the windows but we felt as if we were going down in a submarine rather than up into the heavens. Finally the pontoons rose; then the tail lifted and we soared higher and higher into the sky until we reached an altitude of three thousand feet. As it took twice as long for the clipper to get out the water as for a land plane to take off, we found ourselves nearly exhausted trying to help lift the ship! We were now traveling through tempest and sunshine looking down on the world's largest river. The sight rebels at description. The Amazon is more than a river; it is a flu vial empire whose discolored waters are eternally fighting the blue waters of the Atlantic from a hundred and fifty to two hundred miles at sea. This mighty waterway thrust across the wilderness heart of the South American continent for four thousand tortuous miles, drains two and a half million square miles, or one third of the continent. This monarch of sweet waters demands tribute as it travels in muddy splendor toward the sea, zigzagging across the landscape.

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Wings Over the Amazon The clouds marched past like a mighty army above us and below us was a river that sometimes resembles an ocean and is flecked with islands shaped like shoestrings or hearts; some, such as Marajo, which has an area of 18,000 square miles, are like small continents. These large islands have their own rivers and lakes running into the Mother of Waters. The country on both sides of the Amazon is flat; in fact, the channel slopes only two hundred feet in a course of two thousand miles to its gigantic maw of two hundred miles in breadth. The Amazon was so named by the first white man to traverse its watercourse. Orellana, the Spaniard, traveled across the Andes from Peru seeking an outlet to the Atlantic Ocean; the savage women warriors (Tapuya) who opposed him, caused him to name the river the Amazon. Five hours after departing Belem, we were in Manaos. It was sweltering hot as we went ashore, and a tropical cloudburst gave us a good soaking ten minutes after our arrival!

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CHAPTER 14

BEHIND THE BEYOND The jungles are the symbol of loneliness, yet there is a majesty about them. The Brazilian jungles are prodigal and prolific. They are the largest unbroken forests in the world. The Amazon is a riot of color, yellow and green predominating. There are seven hundred species of butterflies, most of them beautifully colored, and the jungle birds resemble feathered rainbows. Eleven hundred miles inland from the Atlantic, following first the Amazon, then the Rio Negro, is the capital city of Manaos, Amazonas, situated three degrees south of the Equator. Amazonas has 800,000 square miles, or territory equal to all of the United States east of the Mississippi River. Manaos was once the Queen of Rubber; it is a "city that rubber made," and grew considerably in two famous rubber booms. During the first rubber boom, rich men came from Rio de Janeiro and made the city a hub of activity. During that time they built the famous Amazon Theater opened by Enrico Caruso. Opera stars came from all parts of the world to entertain the Brazilian aristocracy. The imitation marble finish on the outside of the building is now wearing off and ugly mud shines through, but the ballroom, with its marble decorations around the doorways, is still admired. The walls are covered with tapestries depicting scenes from jungle life, and the crystal chandeliers are gorgeous.

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Behind the Beyond R. D. C. World War II brought the second rubber boom. The Rubber Development Corporation of the American government, working in conjunction with the Brazilian government, moved into the Amazon basin to extract the precious latex from the forests. Millions of American dollars were poured into the venture. Planes, boats, cars, trucks, houses, roads, hospitals-all were constructed for rubber. The Brazilian government sent 32,000 rubber pickers into the Amazon. We were told that the Americans numbered about 250 in Manaos, and that there were many more in Belem and other cities. We know that one was murdered by Indians and one died of fever. Manaos seemed full of Americans; the coffee shops, saloons and hotels rang with American English. The shoeshine boys, raising their price from three cents to ten cents, did a prosperous business, as did many others. But the war ended, and the Americans returned home. The Brazilian rubber pickers turned southward for home and a better climate. Manaos is normal again. IN NEED OF REPAIR The entire city seems to be aging. The old-fashioned "shotgun" style houses (houses so constructed that one wall serves two houses) need repairs and painting. There is not a paved street in town. The city's rough cobblestone streets and broken, narrow sidewalks are most uncomfortable to walk on and dangerous at night. Its antiquated streetcars are about to stop forever. Almost every day one sees the wrecker pushing brokendown cars to the repair shop. MEET MR. SOLOMAN I have met Jewish people in every conceivable corner of the globe, and Manaos was no exception. One day as I was at the river bank taking a picture of Brazil nuts, and crocodile and boa skins being unloaded from an Amazon cargo boat to the land, a short man walked up to me. In English he said that the cargo 117

Fifty Thousand Miles of Missionary Miracles was his and that he would reship it to other countries. His name was Mr. Soloman. When the men tossed over a fine two-foot boa hide, Mr. Soloman asked if I desired a souvenir and handed me a fine skin. ROMAN CATHOLIC MISSIONS The Roman Catholic Church is now bringing to Brazil American monks and priests to reach people. We met five monks in the hotel one day and I had a talk with them. One was from St. Louis, another from Detroit, and still others from different cities. They were tall, handsome young Americans. In one Roman Catholic church in Manaos there were about a dozen American monks; they were apparently starting their own church, backed by their own order. These missionaries came during the war when Protestant missionaries found it almost impossible to obtain permission to enter Brazil. We spoke in two missions in Manaos. One was presided over by a foreign missionary, the other by a Brazilian. The national church supported its pastor and built its own structure. The missionary told me the people were poor, and so he even paid their carfare to church! The national church had about four hundred in attendance; the missionary had scarcely fifty. Preaching in Manaos was not easy. My wife and I estimated that ninety percent of the people were undernourished and victims of malaria. In church many of them seemed doped and unable to enter into a joyful service. We found the heat so oppressive that we could not muster a great deal of strength for the meetings. In contrast to Belem, where there were almost a hundred and fifty decisions for Christ, there were only about twelve or fifteen in Manaos. We were grateful and happy for these, and especially for a young soldier who stood up during a message one evening and said, "I want this Christ right now!" The sermon was ended and the man was led to Christ.

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Behind the Beyond AMAZON INDIANS Many missionary-minded Americans believe there are a few million jungle Indians living in the Amazon Valley. This is not true. One of our reasons for going up the Amazon was to inquire from responsible authorities regarding the Indians of this section. In Belem we met the Rev. Harris, a veteran worker among the Indians and the leader of a Baptist mission that lost the "Three Freds" to Indians. He stated that there are few Indians and that they are difficult to contact. To our astonishment he said that the Indians of Amazonas will be extinct in a short time. He told us also that the work was discouraging. His Baptist mission, for example, was a school for Indian children. The Indians are persuaded to leave their children at the mission, and consequently the parents return to the jungles, leaving the children in school. Everything goes well for a few days or a few weeks. Then one morning the missionary looks for his pupils and there is not one left. During the night all of them have taken off through the jungles to look for their parents. In Manaos I secured an interview with Dr. Alberto Pizarro Jacobina, chief inspector of the Indians of Amazonas. I asked him how many lost tribes there would be in the vast undergrowth of Amazonas. He smiled and said, "Not one!" The inspector has jungle guides who constantly traverse the rivers and forests obtaining data. He confirmed the Rev. Harris' statement that the Indians are fast disappearing. The government official said that now the Brazilian government will not permit a foreigner to go and live among the Indian tribes. One reason is this: in case of accident, Brazil will receive adverse publicity. Their strongest reason, however, is that if an Indian accepts the new religion he becomes an outcast from his tribe. This disrupts the social life of the community. We considered it of unusual interest that the Brazilian government will not permit a white person to shoot an Indian under 119

Fifty Thousand Miles of Missionary Miracles any circumstance. If the Indian shoots, the white man, whether government official or trader, cannot defend himself with gunfire. The government is seeking to make friends with the remaining Indians. This is the only country I know of that is taking active interest in its aborigines. FLOATING DOWN THE AMAZON Having traveled by the "Baby Clipper" into the interior of Amazonas, we desired to return by boat. We inquired at various companies and found that the S.S. Virginia was to sail from Manaos on October 31. We decided to sail on this ship. The S.S. Virginia and the S.S. Cambridge are "Good Neighbor" ships. They were formerly used on the Mississippi River, but during the war were placed in Amazon use for the Snapp Line (Servicos de Navegacao da Amazonia Ede Administracao do Porto do Para). In good Latin-American style the boat sailed seven days late. We waited impatiently for it and once or twice almost decided to return by Panair. Finally at 11 a.m. on November 7 the Virginia tooted her whistles and pulled out from the floating wonder dock constructed by the British. We booked our tickets first class. Through the kindness of a Baptist friend we obtained a much-coveted cabin. Knowing there were only about a dozen cabins, we expected a quiet voyage with few passengers. We received a shock, however. The boat was crowded and jammed with everything from humans to turtles. As we floated down the Amazon I checked the living creatures on board. I found that there were pigs, ducks, chickens, turkeys, cows (a dozen), two monkeys, a parrot, dogs (one just outside our

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Behind the Beyond

door), cats, many of the large turtles used for food, and fish. Most of these were in the third class with many humans. The passengers hung their hammocks above the animals and did not seem perturbed. Besides the third-class passengers there were the first-class deck passengers, who slept on deck and ate at the second serving in the dining room. Then there were the "miserable" first-classers who have cabins, where they roast by day and night. We were warned not to drink the water on the boat, as a friend had recently contracted typhoid fever on the same boat; also we were told not to eat green vegetables, as they were dangerous. If we had been told not to eat rice and beans, we would have starved. We became very weary of the menu before we sighted the city of Belem. There was fresh meat-it was brought on board "on the hoof." While we floated down the stream, we watched the men kill a cow, cut her up and carry the pieces to the kitchen. I have never seen a more gory sight. The meat was brought to the table in small pieces, for which I had lost an appetite. The decks were interesting. They were piled high with the Brazilians' goods. There was furniture of every description and all kinds of strange home-made boxes. Outside my cabin were a large mattress, a rug, a sewing machine, lawn chairs, suitcases and trunks. The luggage resembled a pirate's baggage. Some of the cases were made of metal, some of hard wood trimmed with metal. At night all the decks became an enormous dormitory. At six the sun dropped quickly behind the dark black forests and almost instantly it was night. The people slept on trunks, on benches, in the dining room, in the corners. The hammocks were put up rapidly and by seven o'clock it was impossible to talk on deck. Passengers were so close together that everyone on deck could hold hands. At sunrise one could see the varicolored hammocks swinging picturesquely to and fro.

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Fifty Thousand Miles of Missionary Miracles All the way downstream the heat was terrific. It gave one a throbbing headache. As we could not drink the ship water, we asked for soft drinks and there were none to buy. The bar had mineral water at the fancy price of seven cruzeiros (thirty-five cents in American money) a bottle. We bought some, but also used the Halazone, water purification tablets, in the Amazon water. These had been given us by an American soldier in Trinidad. The ship did not furnish towels in the staterooms. However, the steward said he could obtain some if we were willing to pay. Now we knew why our friends in Manaos had encouraged us to buy canned milk and jam and to be sure to buy fruit when the boat stopped in the ports! The Brazilian coffee is demitasse and very strong. We called for hot water to weaken the coffee and used our own canned milk. The ship's bread was rank, but the kitchen chief sold better bread-which we bought! Cheese and also some canned goods could be purchased at a premium. At Santarem we purchased three melons and several pineapples, which were delicious. The passengers came to breakfast in their pajamas, but at dinner and supper every man had on his coat, and it was hot! The cutlery was washed in full view of the diners! The waiter took a large handful, dipped them in a small bucket of cold river water, swished them around for ten seconds and dried them on a cloth that had been in use for a long time. We wiped ours again on a napkin before using. Sixteen persons were seated at each table, seven on each side and one at each end. Dishes of food were passed from the ends of the tables, and by the time they met in the middle where we sat, we saw many empty or picked-over dishes. Most of the passengers at our table piled their plates high and ate rapidly, with no regard for the person next to them.

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Behind the Beyond Floating down the Amazon, the Virginia made eight miles an hour and the current took us at four, which aggregated twelve miles per hour. We stopped at six ports of call, to take cargo and passengers; at one we took on more cattle. That was a most unusual sight. Our boat anchored and a small craft tied alongside. They raised the cattle with derricks to a huge pair of scales and weighted each one, then dropped them onto the Virginia. The men on the Virginia, holding the animals' heads and tails, screamed and pushed to get them into an improvised pen. One of the cows was injured and left to die on the lower, third-class deck. Passengers slept in hammocks hung between stalls of cattle. At Santarem we stayed for five hours while piles of crude rubber, vegetables-especially tomatoes-and fruit-mainly oranges and lemons-were loaded on the boat. Boxes of guarana beans, which make the best Brazilian soft drink, were also brought aboard. Friday morning at about ten o'clock we met the S.S. Cambridge, the sister ship to the Virginia. At a mile distance each ship blew its horns half a dozen times. Our vessel left its course, pulled three to four miles over to the shore, and anchored. The Cambridge left its course and came and tied up alongside. The officers talked for a half-hour while the passengers exchanged greetings, and then the vessels blew their horns and departed. On the Cambridge was a large group of Brazilian soldiers en route to Manaos. TABLE TALK At our table were several excellent conversationalists. Sometimes their discussions became heated. The week before, Gutilio Vargas had given up the rulership of Brazil, and that was a hot topic. One night they compared the Catholic and Protestant churches, and their economic and political effects upon the Brazilian people.

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Fifty Thousand Miles of Missionary Miracles The S.S. Virginia zigzagged down the Amazon, criss-crossing it constantly to stay in the channel. After Santarem the big river became a sea. Sometimes the shore line was so far way that it looked like a black pencil mark. Other times the trees looked an inch high. The dark waters of the Rio Negro were turned muddy by the Amazon; the waters of Tajapoz, blue at Santarem, became brown and muddy when mixed with the Amazon. It was Sunday when we arrived back in Belem. We were very happy to get off the Virginia and minister again to the large congregations. Our work in the extreme north was completed; we would now travel southward. Good-bye, north Brazil.

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CHAPTER 15

A GOSPEL IN THE GUTTER This chapter is a witness to the power of the Bible in bringing a sinner to a decision for Christ. Gerhard walked with bowed head and discouraged heart along the narrow cobblestone street. The tall lanky youth was disgusted with life. Every place of employment refused him a job. "But, after all," Gerhard mumbled to himself, "I was recently released from a concentration prison and possess no recommendations for a job." As the flaxen-haired youth, looking at the ground, stumbled along the street, he saw a small booklet lying in the gutter. As it looked new and was clean, Gerhard picked it up. It was a Gospel of Matthew, thrown there no doubt by some person who had received it from an itinerant colporteur and considered it worthless. Gerhard knew the booklet was part of the Bible, so he kept it. On the back cover he read a stamped message: "If you wish to know more about the holy Gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ, write to Missionary Aldo Person, Caixa, 329, Bahia." In the dirty room where he lodged, Gerhard read the entire Gospel. It pierced his hard heart, and he felt compelled to write the missionary for more information. He wrote and received a kind letter and Gospel literature; he and the missionary corre-

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Fifty Thousand Miles of Missionary Miracles sponded for some time. Then Gerhard journeyed to the capital to meet the missionary. Here Missionary Peterson led him to accept the Lord as his personal Savior. The glorious joy of salvation transformed the saddened and broken life. A new day dawned; a new chapter in his life began. Gerhard Baumart had been an adventurous youth. At seventeen he departed his home in Sarrbruken, Germany, and left his loving father, a Lutheran minister, to seek his fortune in the new world. He had an uncle in Porto Alegre, Brazil, who was a German consul. Here he landed first. Soon his wanderlust carried him hither and yon. He obtained a position on the Lloyd Brasileira steamship lines as a purser and entertainment musician. Most of the day he checked goods on the boat. At mealtimes he played the piano, his chief hobby. Seven years he rode up and down the coast of Brazil playing and working. Becoming weary of his restricted life on board ship, he obtained a job in the Suerdick Cigar Factory in Maragojipe, Bahia. His work was to classify the tobaccos coming into the factory. He was working here under a five-year contract when the war broke out in Europe. Gerhard says that he had absolutely no political connections and very little contact with Germany as he had married a Brazilian girl and never expected to return to Europe. Under suspicion as an enemy alien, he was taken from his job and home and placed in a concentration camp. However, after four months the authorities, having checked his past and decided that he was innocent, released him from prison. He sought a job but could not find one. Everyone asked him where he had worked last-and that was in the concentration camp! During this period of despondency he found a Gospel in the gutter-and that became the turning point in his life. Gerhard told me that the deep humiliation of this prison experience was what brought him to God. His father had tried to make him religious as a boy, but he was arrogant and rebellious. This was the first time in his life that he had a soft heart

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A Gospel in the Gutter toward Christ. Living in the interior of Brazil in a town where there were no Protestants, he had no religion whatsoever, for when he was a boy the Lutherans had turned him against the Catholics. However, no money, no job, and no friends made him willing to listen to the missionary and seek God for salvation. When we met Gerhard he was the pianist in the church in Bahia and a worker in the book department of the church. Gerhard has a job that brings him real joy. He is happy as he wraps parcels of Gospel literature and sends them into the interior to the colporteurs, for he knows the value of these messengers of God. It was a Gospel in the gutter that led Gerhard to Christ.

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CHAPTER 16

SEVERONO-A BRAZILIAN BOY When a small boy, Severono Martins de Medeiros found God in a mission in Natal, Brazil. God has abundantly blessed the lad who was the first in his family to accept evangelical Christianity. Severono was not a stupid, untrustworthy, restless boy. He was a hard worker, with dogged perseverance; he had the makings of a successful businessman. At the age of twelve Severono accepted Christ as his Savior. At about the same time he started in business for himself. He purchased a handful of fruit and vegetables and sold them at the city market. Making a few cents profit, he bought produce and sold it. As his goods increased he secured a small stand in the market and sold fruits, vegetables, farina, and other articles. The other commercial venders were constantly surprised at the teen-age youth with the shining countenance who talked more about God than about his goods, yet nevertheless daily became better established in business. Severono brought his parents to the Gospel hall and they professed to accept Christ. However, they professed merely to please their son. When they understood clearly what was expected of them they abandoned their profession. They determined, furthermore, that their son should not serve God. In the home they made life miserable for him. Using their parental authority, they forced the boy to attend the theater. The deter128

Severono-A Brazilian Boy mined youngster turned his head and refused to see the picture which flashed upon the screen. This irritated the parents, amused the neighbors, and gave Severono a feeling of triumph in being faithful to Christ. The boy was kind in the home, liberal with his money to the family, but staunch in his faith in Christ. His father died out of the faith, resisting Christ to the end, but his mother finally saw the folly of her ways and returned to Christ and is living a witnessing life. Out of the first dollar Severono earned when a twelve-yearold Christian, he gave a tithe to the church. As his business increased, he continued to tithe; the more he gave, the more God blessed him. The youth did a thriving business. One day a man came along and offered a good price for his stall in the market. Severono, always eager for progress, accepted the offer and sold his market business. A local bakery was not prospering, so he bought the bakery, and it began to thrive. Then a man wanted to buy the bakery, so he sold it also. Next he bought one of the largest and finest sections in the city market and was now a prominent businessman. He was known all over town as a Protestant boy who had prospered. He was known also because his parents had persecuted him and he had remained faithful. But better still, he was known for his good works among the people. Later he received another offer for his market stall and he sold out again. After this he entered a new type of business. He deals in building materials-lumber, cement, doors and windows. Today he is a wealthy man, but he loves God as much as he did when he was twelve. Pastor Engenio Martins Pires says, "Severono is a firm believer in the truth, and a real Christian in his business transactions."

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CHAPTER 17

THE BANDMASTER'S DEATH DIARY Catarina Vargao lived a conformable and comparatively luxurious life for twenty-five years as a member of the federal police in Rio de Janeiro. For sixteen years he played a baritone horn in the band, and he was bandmaster for the sixth battalion of the federal police for more than eight years. He played the triumph-march for Getulio Vargas when he rose to power in 1930, and later his band played before the dictator many times. I first met Sr. Vargao in Rio de Janeiro in 1937 when Mr. Howard Carter and I were visiting Brazil. At that time in addition to his official duties he served as bandmaster and choir director in a Rio church. Dressed in his military uniform, he led the choir with a militant air. On my second visit to Brazil in 1943 I met him once more in Rio. On my third visit I met him again, but in a different place and in a different way. In the city of Sao Salvado, Bahia, the first capital city of Brazil, he told me the story of his dramatic diary. NOVEMBER 11, 1944 The government of Brazil pensioned Sr. Catarina Vargao on November 11, 1944, after twenty-five years of continuous service. The day he took off his uniform, God called him to preach the Gospel. The diminutive, wiry, bespeckled policeman of fiftythree, who looks only forty or forty-five, was ready to offer his services to the Lord. He had been a Christian for thirty years and had often desired to preach; now the Lord had opened the way;

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The Bandmaster's Death Diary having been superannuated from government service, he had time and money for such a venture. FEBRUARY 3, 1945 The Lord led the ex-officer to go to the city of Picos (the word picas means "a sharp pointed object"), in a mountainous region of the state of Piaui and start a Protestant church, as no evangelical church had ever entered this area. He thought this would be an ideal place to open a mission and preach the Gospel. By February 3, 1945, all his business in Rio had been taken care of and he and his family started toward Picos. It was a twelveday journey by train and river boat; en route the bandmaster left his family with some relatives while he went ahead to rent a house and prepare a place in which to live and conduct meetings. In Picos, a city of ten to fifteen thousand inhabitants, he spent a month seeking a house. This was accomplished when a woman accepted Christ and was willing to rent her house. SEPTEMBER 12, 1945 On September 12, Sr. Vargao brought his family into Picos. Little did he realize the sorrow that would overtake them during the following months. A welcome meeting for his family was arranged in his house where the Gospel meetings were then being held. SEPTEMBER 23, 1945 A house, rented from an old man who became sympathetic toward the Gospel, served as a hall for the meetings. On September 23 the first public meeting was celebrated. From the beginning there was much talk in the town about the new preacher and much speaking against the new religion. But on the night the mission was opened to the public an organized persecution by the local Catholic church was instigated. The sacrista, or assistant to the local priest, rang the church bells, calling the people together. They took images from the church and marched 131

Fifty Thousand Miles of Missionary Miracles through the streets to the house of meeting; then they placed their saints in the door, shouted and screamed insults at the evangelicals, and threw stones at the building. SEPTEMBER 24, 1945

You would have to know Sr. Catarina Vargao to appreciate his attitude toward this mob. If you could watch him walk in his stern and dignified manner, and hear him talk, you would realize what a shock this was to him. In Rio, where he had lived, the Catholics would not dare to have disturbed a religious service. What made him more angry was that the mob was led by a German priest, Aribierto, who was not a Brazilian. After the first outburst of persecution, Sr. Vargao notified the local authorities and demanded that action be taken to insure him the religious liberty the constitution of his country had decreed was his. To his surprise the mayor was afraid of the local priest and refused to do anything about the outrage. He said further that he was not responsible for what was coming. But the man who had been a federal policeman for twenty-five years was not to be frightened easily. SEPTEMBER 24, 1945

The same afternoon the ex-bandmaster and his Christian family conducted an open-air meeting on Malva Street about a mile from his home. During the service the opposition gathered in a mob and attacked Sr. Catarina's family in the streets. As they tried to walk back home the mob knocked him to the ground and kicked him; they also kicked his wife in the body and face. To the humiliation of Sr. Catarina, the mob beat his wife more severely than they attacked him. Their twelve-year-old daughter was hit in the chest with a large stone, and, as a result, has a sore to this day. On his way home he stopped at the mayor's home and reported the incident. He warned the mayor that he had influence 132

The Bandmaster's Death Diary in the federal capital and that he should do his duty. The mayor told him to leave town. After Sr. Catarina left the home of the mayor, at each corner a new group met the little family with stones and kicks, and cursed them with the bitterest of oaths. The bandmaster, who while living in Rio de Janeiro had never experienced this kind of fury, was getting a rude awakening. SEPTEMBER 25, 1945

It was nine p.m. when a knock was heard at the minister's door. He opened it, and three men entered. They were prominent men in town and came to tell the evangelical that they sympathized with him. Also they wished to warn him that within two hours the mob would again be marching upon his house. The callers said they had gone to the mayor and asked him what he could do to protect Sr. Vargao, and the mayor had said he could do nothing. The men said, "Well, we will do something," so they stayed in the house. At eleven o'clock the town lights went out, and immediately shots and shouting were heard. As men came up to surround the house, shots were fired from the inside, as an interchange from the outside, and the mob quickly dispersed for the night. SEPTEMBER 27, 1945

In the early morning Priest Aribierto appeared on the city streets with a letter in his hand. He read it loudly and continuously, declaring that the local Protestant had called the Virgin Mary a prostitute and had threatened his life. The mayor cried, "Let's send this letter to the capital city!" but the wily priest, who had written the letter himself, said, "No, we are capable of taking care of local situations." He soon gathered together a great mob of men and marched through the streets singing and demanding that the mayor chase the Protestants out of town. During the procession the chief of police came secretly to the home of Sr. Vargao and told him not to go out of his house as

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Fifty Thousand Miles of Missionary Miracles the mob was planning to cut off his hands and feet. At this time Srs. Vargao was almost sick unto death from the stoning. To make matters worse, most of the merchants in town had received threats to not sell food to the evangelicals, who consequently had no meat, no milk, no bread and finally no water. But God answered the prayers of the evangelicals. Sympathizers brought them food; late in the night a neighbor brought milk and bread for them, and a small neighbor boy was brave enough to bring them drinking water. The same three men who protected them that memorable night brought baskets of food. Slowly the town was being divided into two opposing groups: the evangelicals and the Catholics. OCTOBER 25, 1945 Conditions grew persistently worse in the town of Picos. Father Aribierto began to persecute the old deaf man who had rented the Protestants a house to use as a mission. First they tried to offer him more money than Vargao was paying; this he refused. Then they made it so miserable for the old man that he could no longer go into the streets. For his personal safety he left town. On October 25, 1945, the three businessmen who had protected Vargao for humanitarian, not religious, motives, sent a telegram to the chief of police at Teresina, the capital of the state. The telegram read: "Very excellent chief of police, we wish to bring to your knowledge and at the same time asking very urgent measures against the hurtful degradations practiced against Sr. Catarina Vargao and his family, only because he and his family are of the evangelistic sect. Lately his wife has been abused and is at this time near death. Those responsible are Priest Aribierto, Lourenco Campos, Alberto Nunes, who are fanatical Catholics. Thanking you for your assistance. Signed: Raimondo Duarte, Alfredo Viera, Joao Luiz Sobrinho.

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The Bandmaster's Death Diary OCTOBER 30, 3 P.M. Five days later the answer to the telegram came and was delivered to the local police. It declared, "These citizens should have guarantees from the local police. The law gives freedom of worship to all faiths. Advise me of further developments." At that time the government of Getuilio Vargas fell and there were changes in official positions from the presidency to the county jailer. The entire police force in Picas was placed in jail by the interim government. There was a general confusion. For a moment persecution was forgotten. Missionary Aldar Peterson felt he should invite the bandmaster to Bahia to give his choir a special training course. Sr. Catarina accepted the invitation as from the Lord. Because there was only a freight truck to take passengers from Picas, his three business friends secured a taxi to take him two hundred kilometers and paid the bill. One of them, an electrician, said, "After the elections December 2, and your wife is well, return to Picas, and you can preach in my house!" Probably by this time Sr. Catarina Vargao is again preaching in Picas. When he left the first time there were fifteen souls who stood with him as converts to Christ. He no doubt has many more now. "Brother Catarina, you have not told me how you felt during this persecution. How do you react to it?" I asked. "I am sure the Lord sent me to Picas to suffer for His Name. I had lived a life of plenty and had never suffered by being a Christian from the time I accepted Christ in the Victoria Baptist Church, the twelfth of September, 1915." The veteran policeman began to weep as he told how precious Christ had been to them during the hour of persecution. He said that their home actually seemed like heaven. The night 135

Fifty Thousand Miles of Missionary Miracles the mob had attempted to kill him he prepared his children for the ordeal, explaining that they might all have to die like Stephen at the hands of killers. His youngest child, an eight-year-old daughter, said, "Daddy, it doesn't hurt to die for Jesus!" Sr. Vargao said that this statement made him a new man. Sr. Catarino Vargao picked up his documented story, consisting of letters, twelve telegrams and statements of officials, and placed them back in his briefcase. "You are the first man to hear the entire story. I trust it will be a blessing to someone," he said earnestly.

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CHAPTER 18

GOLD AND DIAMONDS It was the day before Christmas in Rio de Janeiro, and the weather was hot. Lauro Soares, a businessman, invited us over for a refreshing dinner. While we sat at his table he told us this beautiful story of how Brazilians won Brazilians to Christ. Casa Levi and R. and G. Block, Ltd., are the third largest jewelry and precious-stones dealers in the nation of Brazil, and the fifth largest in Latin America. They have an exclusive retail store in Rio de Janeiro where the elite trade, and their wholesale business extends to the entire nation. Besides this they have an important business in Buenos Aires, Argentina. These prosperous businessmen have learned to appreciate evangelical Christians and have placed them in key positions in their large business of gold and diamonds. I have known these men over a period of ten years during my missionary-evangelistic trips to Brazil; Adalberto Arraes is general manager and buyer for the firm; Antonio Lopez Pererra is assistant manager; Lauro Soares is chief bookkeeper; Luis Soares is cashier, and not least is Jose Bernardino, the chauffeur to the elder partner of the firm, who was the first to know the Lord as personal Savior. A network of conversions by businessmen winning businessmen by personal evangelism is the theme of this story. Lauro Soares, a retiring businessman, definitely executive in appearance, was seeking a new position. Inquiring at a certain firm about a job, he met a Christian who gave his testimony of the 137

Fifty Thousand Miles of Missionary Miracles power of Christ. Lauro listened and liked the story very much. The man invited him to church, and Lauro went and accepted Christ the first night he heard the Gospel. Saul of Benjamin, looking for donkeys, found a kingdom, but Lauro, looking for a position as bookkeeper, found the King! Today Sr. Soares has a lovely Christian home, an admirable wife and church-loving children. He is indeed a happy man. Adalberto, an aggressive, vivacious, capable businessman, is manager and buying agent for Levi and Blocks. He knows diamonds so expertly that he can take a handful and within a few moments estimate the value of each. Lauro noticed that Adalberto was leading a wicked life, and he understood from the management that the firm was contemplating dismissing him because of his constant drunkenness. Lauro approached Adalberto and told him that Christ could change his life. He discovered that Adalberto was concerned about his life and was delving into spiritism to solve his problems. Lauro explained that only Christ could break the power of alcohol and make him happy. The manager asked the bookkeeper many questions about his Gospel church-how the people worshiped, how the minister preached, and similar inquiries. Lauro was patient and gracious, and answered most of Adalberto's questions directly from the Bible. Adlaberto finally promised to go to church with him; he was so pleased with the meeting that he accepted Christ and immediately became a spiritual leader. He leads a Sunday afternoon open-air meeting in a downtown plaza in Rio each week, writes regularly for a Sunday-school journal, and has many other Christian activities. Avelino Garcia worked with his father in his novelty jewelry manufacturing establishment. One day the buyer for Levi and Block was at the factory buying merchandise, and Adalberto testified to the manufacturer about the power of the true Gospel to transform a man's life. He told him that he had been an alcoholic and about to lose his good position when Christ made

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Gold and Diamonds all things new in his life. The manufacturer came to church and was converted. Avelino, an alert, modern Brazilian, listened to the manager of the jewelry store talk with his father. Avelino had two petitions: he wanted to work with Adalberto and wanted to accept Christ. Both were granted. Today he is a consecrated Christian young man and is assistant bookkeeper to Lauro Soares. Luiz Soares, the brother of Lauro, was working for a cigarette manufacturing company but was not satisfied with his job. He desired to work for Casa Levi and R. and G. Block, Ltd., but had been refused a job. The Christians working at Levi and Block told him to accept Christ and be converted if he wanted God to bless his life. He accepted the challenge and started coming to church. However, he was obstinate on the question of smoking cigarettes. One day he was praying in private, asking God to give him a better job and take him out of the cigarette manufacturing company. He says that the Lord spoke to him and said, "You should not mind working there. You use their products!" He was deeply convicted, and on his knees he vowed never to touch cigarettes again. This story has a sequel: that same day the Block company telephoned Luiz and asked him if he could begin work the next morning! Luiz was there, and today he serves in the responsible position of cashier. In this way Christian businessmen are strengthening the cause of Christ in Brazil. It was thrilling to watch these men serve as stewards and ushers at the meetings during our revival in Rio de Janeiro. Their smiling countenances made us know that they are more precious than gold and diamonds.

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CHAPTER 19

WHITHER BOUND, BRAZIL? The United States of Brazil, which consists of twenty states, seven territories and one federal district covering an area of more than three and a half million square miles, is definitely a land with a potentially prosperous future. This was forcibly impressed upon me as I lived an entire year in Brazil during three visits. I have flown over the famous Falls of Iquassu, crossed the middle of the nation to Bolivia, traveled up the Amazon River 1,100 miles, and lengthwise the country from north to south, to behold the wonder of this mighty developing Goliath which is bringing a new era to the southern hemisphere. The destiny of Brazil will influence in a large measure the whole of Latin America; a democratic, free, prosperous, industrial Brazil will contribute to a new way of life for all of Latin America. Brazil is changing so rapidly that if a person has not visited that land in the past ten years he definitely does not know modern Brazil. Industrially, Brazil is fast becoming a power to be reckoned with. Today Brazil has a ninety-million-dollar steel mill at Volta Redonda; in Sao Paulo are assembling plants for Fords and Chevrolets. The fastest-growing commercial city in the world, this city of 2,000,000 population added almost four hundred industries to her list last year! The Paulista electrified railroad, covering almost a thousand miles, is one of the finest I have ridden. I have visited a first-rate silk factory in Brazil-a

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Whither Bound, Brazil? land that has 300,000 Japanese citizens, who are not only good farmers but also raise cocoons. Brazil's textile mills now turn out merchandise valued at $60,000,000 annually, and these products are exported to Africa, Europe, and South America. At the moment Brazil is selling more goods to Argentina than Great Britain sells there. I have seen Brazilian bathtubs for sale in Asuncion, Paraguay, and Brazilian shoes on sale in Argentina for ten to thirty dollars a pair! The last two world wars advanced the cause of Brazil more than most of the world realizes. Modern cities are springing up in the vast interior, turning the hinterland into a thriving civilization. During World War I, Roman Catholic priests were imprisoned with German Lutherans for political activities in the nation. Presently, Brazil offers tolerance and freedom of worship to all religions, and even cults, such as the spiritists, are protected by the law. This presents an open and competitive field for aggressive Gospel work. In all the world I have not found a people with hearts more open to the Gospel, which explains the fact that there are as many Protestants in Brazil as in the rest of Latin America combined. In the near future the old type pastoral-missionary will not be needed in Brazil, because Brazilian ministers will capably fill their pulpits. However, men of executive ability and exceptional teaching ministry will always have an open door to the hearts of Brazilian pastors and laymen. Politically, Brazil is advancing well. We were in Brazil at the time of their last presidential election, when General Eurico Gaspar Dutra received more than a million more votes that his nearest opponent, Edwardo Gomes. It was the first democratic election in fifteen years and the largest popular vote ever cast in Latin America. We were astounded to see the popularity of the Communist party and the aggressive manner in which it advertised. Large signs, defacing walls of buildings and fences, proclaimed, "The Communists are not against God." But Brazil acts differently than the United States in that when we see Commu-

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Fifty Thousand Miles of Missionary Miracles nistic revolution brewing, we investigate: in Brazil they unhesitatingly castigate, and if necessary, liquidate! Culturally, Brazil is changing. In 1937 I was riding a train in the interior of Brazil; it was the hot month of December and the passengers were most uncomfortable. I took off my coat, as the train had no cooling system. The conductor came by and threatened to put me off the train in the jungles if I did not put on my coat! There were only about six men in the same coach. However, today, on Brazilian trains, the men wear sport shirts, and a third of them have their coats off when traveling. The old culture is passing, and the new is dominating. The Brazil of the future will greatly influence other countries of Latin America. May the God of heaven continue to bless Brazil, we pray, as we cross her southern frontier to visit a neighbor republic.

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CHAPTER 20

AN ARGENTINE PRODIGAL A rattling was heard at the storeroom door of the winery. A key turned the lock; Eduardo looked at his watch. It was three a.m. As he waited for the door to open he leveled his revolver and set his teeth in grim determination. A short, fat man opened the door and held a lantern over his head to see his way around the barrels of beer and wine. As he approached the cash register, Eduardo fired three times; the fat man disappeared, leaving his key and lantern. Eduardo thought he had killed him, but evidently he was only wounded. There was flour on the footprints of the thief-and a bakery next door stayed open all night. The riddle was solved! Eduardo Fazzine, a tall, light-complexioned, football-playing, boxing, drinking, gambling youth, became a detective in the firm where he worked to clear his own name. For months money had been taken from the cash register at night. The police could not find the culprit, and Eduardo was under suspicion. After clearing his name he left the winery to work elsewhere. This stalwart Argentine was an avowed prodigal. His father had immigrated from northern Italy and later settled in Bolivar, Argentina. In the Old Country he had gone to the Roman Catholic Church, and in the new world he read his Bible and tried to live a righteous life. He heard that the Iglesia Ev angelica taught the Bible and through a personal contact with

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Fifty Thousand Miles of Missionary Miracles the pastor he started worshiping there. He tried to get Eduardo to worship there, too, but in vain. Rather than going to church, Eduardo joined a bunch of roughneck cowboys and went to work on a cattle ranch on the pampas. He rounded up cattle and horses, harvested wheat and corn, repaired broken-down fences, and lived a wretched life. He drank alcoholic beverages until he went loco, kicking down doors and destroying furniture. He gambled away his money and blasphemed the holy Name of God. But at home a godly father was praying for a roving prodigal. Four years on a ranch were enough, and bored Eduardo went back to the city and started to worked at a winery. Having a large frame and sinewy muscles, he started boxing, and found it great sport to give and take with the gloves. A potent influence entered Eduardo's life when he fell in love with a schoolteacher and courted her for three years. Then followed an experience which ultimately led him to God. The teacher contracted tuberculosis and the school board sent her to a government sanatorium at Cordoba. Eduardo went with her, and while she was undergoing a complete examination he walked up and down by a river beside the sanatorium with a revolver in his hand. He had decided to take his life if his fiancee did not live. However, there seemed to be a restraining hand over the life of the wayward prodigal. The hospital decided that the teacher's case was too far advanced for hospitalization and therefore sent her home to die. Eduardo decided to take care of her until she died. Eduardo was twenty-eight. For fourteen weary, sorrowful years he had rebelled against God and his father. He showed me a picture in which he looked older at twenty-eight than he does now at forty! He had lived fast and furiously, and now was brokenhearted.

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An Argentine Prodigal During a mid-week prayer service at the Evangelical Church in Bolivar, Eduardo sat on the back seat. After the service he spoke to the resident missionary, Dr. Wortman (my wife's uncle), and told him that he needed God. The minister and the congregation prayed with him. The prodigal, with a broken heart, prayed with fresh, hot tears streaming down his face, and his loving father prayed and gave thanks that his prodigal son had returned. Before his fiancee passed on to meet God, she received Christ as a result of Eduardo's testimony. Several years later he fell in love with another Christian girl and married. Eduardo began working at the Swift Company in La Plata; for ten years he labored in the office checking accounts of incoming merchandise and outgoing goods. His salary was slowly advanced from 125 pesos a month to 325, and when he announced his intention of leaving the firm, he was offered higher wages, but his leaving was not motivated by the desire to get more money but to begin a full-time ministry for the Lord Jesus Christ. Eduardo Fazzine is now pastor of the only Protestant church in Henderson. He supervised the building of a beautiful new church and parsonage and with the same ardor that he served sin he is now serving Christ. He is a patient, slow-speaking, kindhearted pastor, and one would never guess that he was once a roving drinking, gambling prodigal.

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CHAPTER 21

THE BOOT-STRING REPUBLIC The telephone rang at four-thirty in the morning. The Latin voice said, "Un cache de Pan America estara en el hotel en treinta minutos!" We had thirty minutes to dress and board the Pan American World Airways transportation to the airport in Mendoza, Argentina! It was cold in the foothills of the Andes Mountains; from the airport we could see the silvery peaks over which we would soon fly. For two days a snowstorm in the Cordilleras held us up, but this morning it was clear and beautiful. The DC-3 rumbled down the runway rather clumsily, revealing that it was an air-creature and not a landlubber. The engines warmed, and the plane took to the air and climbed three miles above sea level to cross the South American continent at its narrow part. In a few minutes we were flying among the hoary peaks. As our plane flew down the pass around the base of Aconcagua, 23,380 feet high, it seemed as if we were in a glacial fairyland. Flying low, we could distinguish the railroad which we had crossed on a previous visit; impressive was the worldfamous statue of Christ (El Cristo de las Andes) that was erected in 1904 when Chile and Argentina arrived at a peaceful settlement regarding their snowy frontiers in the Andes. In memory of their peace treaty this huge statue of Christ was erected in Uspallata pass to remind the two countries of their bonds of friendship. The inscription reads:

"Sooner shall these mountains crumble into dust than the Argentines and Chileans break 146

The Boot-String Republic the peace won at the feet of Christ the Redeemer."

One hour after emplaning for Chile we were flying over the beautiful capital of Santiago. Though two days late, we were ready for the revival to begin that night. "The Boot-String Republic" is more than an interesting name for Chile; it is an apt description of this land which possesses one of the most elongated coast lines in the world. From the frontier of Peru to the Straits of Magellan is 2,661 miles, and not one point reaches farther than 250 miles into the interior. Naturally this makes Chile a land of amazing contrasts. From the northern nitrate fields to the icebound borders of Patagonia, Chile is a physiographical wonder embracing virtually every climatic condition and type of scenery from Antarctic frigidity to blistering deserts. Our revival in Santiago was a union meeting of all evangelicals, and was conducted in El Redentor, a Presbyterian church. The meetings were pregnant with the spirit of revival. The spiritual atmosphere was different from Argentina; it was more like Brazil. From a dozen to three or four dozen unconverted persons made decisions for Christ in each meeting. I heard Christians from various churches say that they had never witnessed all denominations so happily worshiping God together. Methodist, Presbyterian, Assembly of God, and other groups rendered choir and musical selections that added spiritual richness to the services. The Union Evangelical Choir, made up of some fourteen Protestant groups, sang several beautiful numbers. Theodore R. Bueno was my interpreter, and of the 178 interpreters I have used he has not been excelled. He not only performed the mechanics of interpretation, but reproduced inflexions and emotions that struck direct into the hearts of the Chileans.

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Fifty Thousand Miles of Missionary Miracles It was most delightful to renew fellowship with Bishop Elphick, a retired bishop of the Methodist Church of Chile. His exciting conversion is recorded in my book Through Blood and Fire in Latin America under the title "From Outcast to Bishop." "The Bishop," as his friends affectionately speak of him, attended almost every service during the revival. Desiring that his entire family know Christ, he arranged an extraordinary meeting in his home. He invited his children and their husbands and wives and children for a Sunday dinner. In a specially prepared room there were four or five tables laden with a delicious dinner. After dinner he asked me to give a sermon to his family. It was a precious service, and one that brought results, for the following night, with about fifty other sinners, Mr. Elphick's son, a successful businessman, knelt to find God. The energetic bishop left the platform and went to the altar and put his arm around his son, who is in his early forties, and wept and prayed for his conversion. It was one of the most beautiful services I have seen. The retired bishop is now seventy-three, but he and his wife still operate an orphanage and a training school for young ladies.

It was a pleasure to speak at the ministers' meeting that convenes each Monday morning in the quarters above the Sembrador bookstore. About twenty-five ministers representing various organizations were present. My message encouraged an aggressive advance in winning souls for Christ. Present was a university don, liberal-minded missionaries and zealous national pastors. Bishop Elphick interpreted for me with the zeal of an evangelist as I reiterated again and again that revival must have Number One priority or the Church will perish. Our final night in Santiago was too precious to forget. The

Redentor church was packed although many extra seats had been provided, and people were standing as far back as the eye could reach. From the first song the meeting was a spiritual feast. That night, although I did not plead, some fifty-five souls came forward. When the meeting was dismissed the people did not want 148

The Boot-String Republic

to leave, but started singing choruses that sent waves of refreshing over the souls of the people. We were greatly touched when the congregation gave a freewill love offering to their evangelists. It amounted to 658 pesos (nearly twenty dollars in United States money), a considerable sum to those poor people. Our hearts were especially moved when we saw a Christian blind boy search his pockets for an offering and drop a coin in the plate. The gift seemed sacred. I wish to be pardoned for printing part of a letter written by Bishop Robert E. Elphick, but if anyone knows the needs of the Latin American people, he does. Not only has he been given the highest position in his church, but he is dearly loved in every church in Chile; when he was younger, he was sent as a delegate to world-conferences in Jerusalem and the United States. "I wish to express what an experienced South American thinks of Lester Sumrall. At the conclusion of his last series of meetings conducted in Santiago, Chile, I asked to be allowed to send greetings to our North American brethren. Before the large congregation I said, "This is the kind of missionary we need in Chile and all Latin America: a man who understands our spiritual needs ... who brings us a Gospel message with the power of the Holy Spirit. Brother and Sister Sumrall understand that sin is the root of all our troubles; that the only solution for our problems is regeneration through Christ. They sing and pray and preach in a way that touches hearts; they believe in immediate results and get them. I have seen them do it. " Roberto Elphick Santiago, Chile

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CHAPTER 22

PERUVIAN REVIVAL Inter-American communications! Mr. Salazar of the La Victoria Methodist Church in Lima, approached my friend, Mr. Herbert Felton, and said, "Did you know that Mr. Sumrall will be coming back to Peru in a few weeks? In fact, he will arrive with his wife, whom we have not met, the sixteenth of April by Panagra Airways." Mr. Felton replied, "No, I did not know this. Where did you get the information?" "The son of the pastor of the Primera Iglesia Methodista works in the Panagra office and handled Mr. Sumrall's petition for a reservation. He told me that he had given him April 16," replied my Peruvian friend, Mr. Salazar. So, before I knew, in Buenos Aires, the day I was to be in Peru, those who would plan my activities there already knew the date! This was something new in speed and inter-American relations. To arrive in Peru we departed Santiago at six-thirty in the morning by plane. It was a beautiful morning. There was a full, brilliant moon shining on the barren hills. As our plane climbed to 10,000 feet we saw a most glorious scene. The mighty luminary of fire rose on our left and at the same moment a full moon was setting on the mountain peaks on our right. Gold and silver lights were shining on us at the same time. Below us the rugged

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Peruvian Revival hills were purple, brown, rusty, and without a twig of vegetation. Of special beauty was the mist resting on the side of the mountains. This is produced when warm air rises and at a given point cools, expands and remains at this level, hanging like a silver drape around the mountain. Forty-five minutes out of Lima we went through a pass in the mountains; the rugged, jagged peaks seemed very near us. As usual the American pilot or copilot came back and chatted with the passengers and told us of the altitude, the speed of the ship and the scenes we were passing. That afternoon we arrived in Lima-the historic capital of Spanish glory. It was my third visit to Peru for meetings. This time it was Easter. Before describing our union meetings in the First Methodist Church, which is the largest church auditorium in Lima at present, it will be of interest to give a brief history of the evangelical movement in Peru, from notes supplied by Mr. John Ritchey, the secretary of the American Bible Society. June 28, 1822, James Thompson came to Peru, marking the arrival of the first Protestant missionary. At the invitation of the famous liberator San Martin, the English educator came to abolish illiteracy. For two years he taught the Lancastrian studies, using the Scriptures for notations. General San Martin, who became a fast friend of the Englishman, gave him the convent of Saint Thomas as a place to pursue his studies. With shame we must admit that the Protestant mission boards did not enter this open door of ministry. The evangelization of Peru dates back to the arrival of the Rev. Francisco G. Penzotti, a name that will live in blessed memory as long as the Christian Church of Latin America. Penzotti, an agent of the American Bible Society, first came to Peru in 1886. He was a zealous evangelist, preaching from house to house and selling Bibles. He prepared a hall for meetings. His first audience was his own family, but his personal contacts brought in new inquirers. His hall became too small; therefore

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Fifty Thousand Miles of Missionary Miracles he opened a larger one. Later he was offered the English church, which was closed and without a pastor. This building seated three hundred and provided a fine opportunity to preach the Gospel. But the fervent sermons of Penzotti drew the ire of the worldly members. This resulted in his dismissal from the church. Penzotti' s house was stoned by ruffians; the priests spoke openly against him and his "heresy." Finally he was obliged to conduct his meetings behind closed doors. A humorous incident took place during this time. While the evangelicals were in their hall enjoying a service with the door closed, a priest came by and placed a lock on the door, then stood across the street to see what would happen. A brother, Miguel Rubio, was not in church, but the Lord spoke to him in his home and told him to go to church. He went and heard the singing inside, but found a lock on the door. He took a key from his pocket and found that it would fit the lock; thus the Christians were enabled to leave the hall. The priest, watching across the street, told throughout the town that the devil helped the Protestants. Penzotti was obliged to suffer to establish the Gospel in Peru. In January, 1890, he was sent to prison by the orders of Bishop Huerta in Arequipa, Peru. He was in prison for nineteen days, and liberated when the president of the nation sent a telegram that the foreigner be released. Penzotti's liberty was short, for six months later in the port city of Callao he was incarcerated in a prison called Casa Matas, "House of Deaths." He had been accused by a priest, Jose Manuel Castros, for violating the fourth article of the constitution. This law did not permit the exercising of any other religion (except Catholicism) in Peru. In the House of Deaths this hero of the Cross remained until November 29. The public and the press were sympathetic toward the foreigner, but opposition remained strong. While in prison Penzotti was sick and his family suffered hunger. But God answered prayer and delivered him when Mr. E. Alcott, a Christian engineer, took

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Peruvian Revival his picture in prison and had it published in the New York Herald and other papers. World public opinion went into motion. As a result the Supreme Court of Peru held a special session to absolve his case and release him. March 28, 1891, at five o'clock in the afternoon, a stalwart of the Cross was liberated from prison by a direct order of Congress. This was a great day of victory in the history of Protestantism. Today there are evangelical churches in all the large cities and many of the towns in Peru. The opposition has by no means given up the fight; the evangelical church is still lively as a result of constant persecution. The Christians born into the Church of God through the suffering of its leaders know the value of a born-again experience with Christ. They, in turn, are willing to suffer for their testimony. The common people of Peru are receptive to the Gospel. In my visits there large numbers made a decision for Christ. The national workers are growing in number and in vision, under the faithful missionaries; if only there was religious equality, the evangelical cause would thrive! This last visit to Lima was during the Easter season. There were many who accepted salvation in the meetings. Our hearts were made to rejoice to see the church filled to overflowing, and many standing. The Christian church of Latin America will enter a glorious future when national ministers and self-supporting and selfpropagating communions reveal to the world less denominational distrust and more zeal in snatching souls from eternal perdition. The church has gone through blood and fire; its foundations are solid and its edifice garnished with lively stones.

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CHAPTER 23

AN INCAN INDIAN WOMAN It is true that God sometimes reveals Himself in a mightier way to a simple peasant than to a self-righteous person who feels adequate without God's blessing. Sitting before me in Missionary Felton's home was a diminutive Indian woman, a daughter of the proud Incas, dressed in a long black dress nearly touching the floor; her coarse, glossy hair was combed close to her head. She sat weeping, relating to me the sordid story of her life. As she spoke broken Spanish, she spoke in Quechua to her son; her son translated the Quechua into Spanish and the Rev. Felton translated the Spanish into English. The interview required several hours, but it was well worth our effort to obtain a knowledge of the need of Christ among these daughters of the primitive world. Isabel Sulca Vargas de Simbron wrung her hands while copious tears coursed down her cheeks. "Oh, I was a great sinner; I had a terrible temper. Oftentimes I have fought with men like an animal; my morals were lower than men; I drank liquor every day; no Indian was more wicked. I am so ashamed of my bad life; how wonderful that Jesus had mercy on Isabel!" she cried. This interesting little Incan woman had brought more unconverted persons to our united evangelical meetings in Lima than anyone we knew. She bears a wonderful testimony of a

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An Incan Indian Woman consecrated Christian life, and therefore I asked her how she was delivered from a sinful life. "I have always been a sinner," cried the little Indian woman. "My mother died when I was six months old. My father had lands and cattle, but he was a drunkard. And I became a drunkard too. Then too, the father of my children was a drunkard. The day after Teodore (the son who was interpreting) was born, my drunken husband almost beat me to death. He broke my arm and knocked me unconscious. Then he burned all my clothing and all the children's clothing, locking the door and leaving us to die. Some neighbors broke into the house, and I was still unconscious and undressed. The wife of the local judge had mercy and gave me some clothes. We used a skin from an animal on the floor to sit and sleep on." The poor little woman sat weeping as she relived her heathen past. She has had nine children, but only three are living. Of these she is duly proud, for two are Gospel preachers and the youngest, fifteen, lives with her. "How did you come to accept Christ?" I asked her. "I was visiting Hacienda Nana La Era (a plantation), where my son worked. Two foreign missionaries came to preach and sing. I listened but was so drunk I disturbed their meeting. The next time they came I was sober and listened to the sermon. The third time I heard the Gospel was in Callao in Missionary William's church. The sermon made me so angry that I went and bought some liquor and returned to the meeting drunk." The doxology touched the Indian's heart; rather than leaving when the rest of the congregation departed, she stayed behind. This missionary thought she was ill and asked her if she wanted prayer. As the man prayed, Isabel found Christ. She said, "I felt the spirit of the devil leave me. Then the good spirit came m.

. 'fl

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Fifty Thousand Miles of Missionary Miracles Teodore said, "She became so mild I could not realize that she was really my mother!" "How do you make a living for yourself and your young son?" I asked the Indian woman. "J visit the haciendas (plantations) near Lima and sell cloth and articles of clothing to the workers. (She rose to give a demonstration.) I lay my goods on the ground on a large piece of cloth, then while the plantation people look at the goods, I sing the Gospel as loud as I can. I cannot read but my son reads the Bible to them. After selling the merchandise, I preach to the people about Jesus, and what a wicked woman I was before Christ came into my heart."

Isabel had many remarkable testimonies, but I confined her to one. She had been exceedingly ill, and her body swelled to twice its size. She was in bed at home for eight months and then taken to a hospital. The doctors examined her but said they could not help her. She said that one night when she was very ill, Christ appeared to her in a dream. He called her by name and told her He was going to operate on her body. He touched her and the swelling left. She felt that he was removing something from her, but His hands were so tender she did not look to see what it was. Isabel said that after the Lord left her she heard a choir of children singing the sweetest songs she has ever heard. With this she awoke. The swelling had left her body; all pain was gone. Her doctor, on his morning rounds to visit patients, said she look well. She asked to be discharged, but this permission was refused. Various doctors took five blood tests and four Xrays but found nothing wrong with her. One afternoon she borrowed a purse from a woman and walked out of the hospital as if she were a visitor. "One thing more I want to tell you," said the little Indian woman. "When I was a drunken, blaspheming, wicked woman, going to the Catholic church and taking mass while intoxicated, I never thought I would live to see such a happy day! I did not 156

An Incan Indian Woman know humans were so happy as I am today. I wish all the Indian women of the Andes Mountains could find Jesus as I have." Yes, many missionaries will testify to the fact that Christ often assists His unfortunate, underprivileged followers in ways that many modern Christians do not have faith to grasp and receive.

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CHAPTER 24

MY OWN CONVERT This particular chapter is especially enjoyable to record. It is the only narrative of this type that we will include in connection with our present missionary travels. The young man of this story was converted at a service I conducted for Dr. Manuel Montano, known as "The Monk Who Lived Again." Alejandro Pickman, a modern young Peruvian of twentythree, found Christ during my union meetings of all evangelicals in Mandamientos Church, the National Peruvian Church in Lima, Peru. Alejandro (Alexander) first heard the Gospel at an open-air meeting on a street corner, in his town of Chilcas. He listened to the entire service but did not understand the terms used; nor could he see how a man could speak of religion without wearing clerical attire. While Alejandro was still a lad, his father purchased a Bible from an uncle and gave it to his son, requesting him to learn to read this Book. The reading of this Book produced a proper attitude in the boy's heart, and he desired to learn more about Christ. Like most aggressive Peruvians, Alejandro wanted to live in the capital city of Lima. In order to live there he was obliged at first to accept a job as a domestic in a wealthy home. However, to his great joy it was through this means that he contacted the Gospel. One day while sweeping the floor he found a printed 158

My Own Convert announcement concerning a woman who conducted open-air meetings. The curious boy went to hear the woman. He found that she was an aggressive crusader against Protestant churches and had come to disturb the Protestants, who for years had conducted Sunday afternoon street services in the plaza. The woman's agitation became so rude that Alejandro felt sympathetic toward the evangelicals without knowing who they were or what they taught. One of the Christian young men gave him a Gospel tract and testified that Christ had satisfied his heart. This woman agitator saw him with it and derided him for even accepting such evil and dangerous literature. She asked, "And what are you going to do with that tract?" The youth was already indignant and hastily replied, "I have visited thirty-three churches in this city to pray and my heart is not satisfied. I have decided to become an Evangelical." What a decision to make in public! What boldness! The young men conducting the street meeting were pleasantly surprised. With great joy they invited Alejandro to accompany them to church after the open-air service. That evening a twenty-year-old youth, having come to an important intersection in his life, sat in the second bench and listened to a North American preach by means of an interpreter.

"How does this American know my life? Why, he has never met me, yet every word he speaks is directed right to my heart," he mused. When the moment of decision arrived, I asked every one to stand who desired Christ as his personal Savior. Alejandro was one of the first to respond. He says that it was a little difficult to stand in a church crowded with people, but as he stood, the preacher reassured him by saying, "God bless this young man!" With a number of other sinners he went to the prayer room that night and was taught how to accept Christ. The youth was sincere; he confessed his sins; he confessed his Savior. That night he was gloriously converted. His burden of sin, apprehension, fear

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Fifty Thousand Miles of Missionary Miracles of the unknown future, left him, never to return. He now understood the meaning of being "born again." Since his conversion Alejandro has steadily grown in Christ. He is the secretary of the Rimac Church, a downtown church in Lima. At their own expense, Alejandro and a Christian friend made a three-month Gospel tour in which they spoke in fifty towns and in seventeen public schools. The Lord was with them in much blessing as they sowed the Gospel seed in the byways of Peru. Today Alejandro is a clerk in a wholesale dry-goods store but he says that he hopes to enter Bible school and become a full-time minister of the Gospel. Thus the indigenous Church is planted and becomes a healthy national organism bringing Christ to the nations.

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CHAPTER 25

HOME ON WINGS It was four in the morning and we had rested very little. The hotel room was hot and the noises on the street persistent. We arose and went to the dining salon for breakfast. The Pan American Grace Airline pilots were sipping coffee and eating a light breakfast. We ate a hot breakfast and then were taken in the airline bus to the airport. Here we watched the great burning sun rise and increase the intense heat of Guayaquil, Ecuador. The forty-odd passengers were eager to board the Douglas DC4 and depart, but the crew seemed nonchalant. Finally the captain of the ship went aboard and started the four mighty twothousand-horsepower motors. It was inspiring to watch him test the big ship that spanned 117 feet 5 inches. Every pound of its sixty-five thousand pounds trembled as the fourteen-cylinder engines roared. Each mighty engine drinks two hundred and fifteen gallons of high-octane gasoline per hour.

At seven-thirty the gongs sounded and the passengers filed aboard. To us this was a significant trip. This was the last leg of our honeymoon mission. In a matter of moments the tremendous metal bird swept into the world of air and rose higher and higher above the flat, marshy coast of Ecuador and flew north. Never in our lives had we traveled so fast. Flying across the gulf toward the Panama Canal Zone, we lost sight of the great subcontinent of South America with its seven million square miles. We were leaving behind a host of friends and taking with us life-long memories of blessing. The shape of the continent made 161

Fifty Thousand Miles of Missionary Miracles us think of it as a heart pulsating with vigorous vitality, yearning for aggressive evangelism. By noon we were in sight of the Panama Canal, one of the greatest engineering feats of history. Below us was the artificial waterway that cost the American people $400,000,000. From our altitude we could see the fifty miles from the Atlantic to the Pacific as the giant four-engine plan soared overhead three times waiting its turn to land at Balboa. Panama, resplendent in the brilliant sunshine, presented one of the most beautiful sights we have seen in the entire world. The last time we saw the Panama Canal it took us eight hours to go through by steamer. In Panama the passengers were eager to depart but the crewmen were indifferent. We had already made one day's journey on a smaller plane. The airline company sent us to a hotel for dinner and told us to lounge around for a few hours. They assured us we would be in New Orleans that same night. In midafternoon the plan called for passengers and we boarded the great stratoliner and turned north. As we flew over Central America and stopped off in Guatemala long enough to rush over to the church and speak a few moments and return to the plane, I remembered the delightful times enjoyed in these neighbor countries as we preached the gospel of Christ. Darkness came, but air travel was still interesting. Below we could see the fires built by the Indians who were burning their lands for planting, and the flames made lovely patterns on the landscape. When the great plane nosed out over the Gulf of Mexico, we lolled back in the reclining seat for a short sleep before arriving home. But sleep we could not. The excitement was too great. Our great honeymoon adventure was ending. In a way we were sad. However, our bodies were weary; we had worked hard, and there had been no relaxation. According to my wife's carefully-filed statistics, more than two thousand immor162

Home On Wings tal souls sought God for salvation in the twenty countries and islands we had touched and the approximately one hundred cities and towns in which we had ministered. It had inspired our hearts to witness that all men sought God in our meetings. In our private devotions we had read the entire Bible through, beginning at the first page and finished with the book of Revelation. It had been a joy to reread the great Book together, to think and to pray. But now we must readjust ourselves to American life. This would not be easy after preaching to the Latin Americans for so long. Louise had sung in English in the Virgin Islands and Trinidad; she had sung in Portuguese in Brazil, and Spanish in the other countries; now she must readjust to singing for Americans. Lester would have to gear his sermons to American needs. In the blackness of the night the glittering lights of New Orleans were seen. We had traveled from South America to North America in one day. My last trip up from South America had taken thirty days in a military convoy. As the plane hit the runway of the airport we did not know whether to weep or laugh. We had taken a plane from the same airport for Miami and the West Indies more than a year before, and now we had returned safely. We were grateful to God. The first chapter of our adventure had ended. The second chapter would begin. It had indeed been fifty-thousand miles of missionary miracles.

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CHAPTER 26

THE CHALLENGE Romance in missionary service in the twentieth century? Real adventure in Christ's Ambassadorial Corps in our age? Surely! Vibrating life-the happiest life in the world. It is remarkable that many modern folk think a missionary is a drab, colorless personality, suffering from lumbago and a disagreeable disposition, who is difficult to approach and impossible to enjoy. When a missionary arrives in some churches the laity expect to see an old fogey wearing outmoded clothes and telling weird tales of primitive people. This erroneous attitude has caused promising and enterprising Christian youth to frown upon missionary work as a career. Even successful young ministers, ambitious for success, wish to delegate missionary work to those less fortunately equipped for winning souls to the Savior. However, outstanding examples, such as Dr. Ironside of Moody Church and Dr. Edman, president of Wheaton College, both of whom were successfully engaged in missionary work, should prove that a young minister is not forfeiting opportunities when he surrenders to the call of unevangelized lands. Christian youth, in this most dramatic and drastic moment of recorded history, I wish to say that Christ is soliciting spiritual commandos to enlist at the front in the battle against heathendom. It is not an easy task. We realize that there are two

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The Challenge kinds of sailing: on the sheltered and protected waters of a lake or behind a walled harbor, or on the broad, expansive seas. In the open seas danger lurks in the unknown depths, and storms rage with foaming fury. On the open seas there is romance and excitement of which protected waters know nothing. Every human desires romance to some degree, but in our time many prefer to sit in soft lounge chairs and read about it in a book. Others prefer the thrill of real life and living resourcefully for Christ. This was the romance we found-the romance of preaching to people who were eager to learn of God; the romance of personal soul-winning, in meeting men and personally inviting them to Christ. We wish to inspire our modern Christian youth with a universal vision to go to the nations preaching the marvelous, saving grace of God. To youth we say, "Do not permit the devil to place a question mark where God has put an exclamation point!" By faith and perseverance you can show the world that the church of Jesus Christ today is the most vital organism among men. You can say to those flying shuttles of industry, to those lightning telegraphic communications, to those conquerors of atomic energy, that this materialistic, technocratic world-system has not caught up with the Church of the Lord Jesus Christ. From her great lamp all the true lights of civilization have been illuminated. From her sacred Decalogue the blueprint of civic administration has been made. From her moral standards worldsociety knows right from wrong. Youth, the Church is not dead. It is a lion. Loose it from its man-made limitations, permit its Christ-given power to be exerted, and watch the infernal forces of hell and Satan succumb before its withering touch. Christian youth, your Leader is not dead. Soon He shall appear as Universal Monarch, as Potentate Eternal. This sinblighted world shall shake from pole to pole, and every wall shall be thrown to the ground (Ezek. 38:20). With final human rebellion curbed, dissolute manpower shall dramatically ter-

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Fifty Thousand Miles of Missionary Miracles minate and the Christ-Messiah shall reign as Magistrate of magistrates and Sovereign of sovereigns. The Lord Jesus shall be all in all!

It is wise to follow Him now. The standard of the Cross is waving across the nations. Won't you enlist as a standard bearer-today?

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CHAPTER 27

THE VISION CONTINUES Since Dr. and Mrs. Lester Sumrall penned this book in 1948, the Lord has continued to use their faithfulness and diligence to accomplish many things. In 1958, Lester Sumrall, with the help and support of his family and many friends, founded LeSEA (Lester Sumrall Evangelistic Association). This ministry has subsequently given birth to a multifaceted outreach. Sumrall Publishing Company publishes, produces, and distributes books, videos, and tapes authored by Dr. Lester Sumrall, Stephen Sumrall, and other Christian leaders. While Lester Sumrall' s ministry spanned six decades and reached out to more than 120 countries, his teachings live on in the more than 100 books and study guides that remain. LeSEA Broadcasting began with the construction of radio station WHME-FM in South Bend, Indiana in 1967. Under the exceptional leadership of Peter Sumrall, the LeSEA Broadcasting network has grown to include seven full-power and seven lowpower television stations, a national satellite ministry, three FM 167

Fifty Thousand Miles of Missionary Miracles radio stations, internet services, and five international shortwave radio stations. The Gospel is broadcast via radio and television twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week having the potential to reach 100°/4, of the world's population. LeSEA Tours conducts semi-annual pilgrimages to the Holy Land, and offers quality service for all destinations. Prayerline allows a loving, personal contact with individuals who call for spiritual support and guidance. Trained volunteers staff the 24-hour hotline, and many souls are touched by the healing and redeeming power of God. Another of the crowning achievements of Lester Sumrall' s work is his ongoing ministry to feed desperately poor families within the Body of Christ. Established in 1987, LeSEA Global Feed the Hungry, annually gives millions of pounds of food and supplies valued at millions of dollars to countless believers around the globe. Following Dr. Sumrall's God-given design, this is a pastor to pastor, church to church program by which supplies are given directly to leaders within the church or church community who in turn give to those experiencing need. And again, as Brother Sumrall so often said, "This is just the beginning. There are greater blessings ahead!" Today, Stephen Sumrall heads the various outreaches of LeSEA, Inc. (LeSEA Global Feed the Hungry, Sumrall Publishing Company, Christian Center School and Daycare, Indiana Christian University) and is Senior Pastor of Christian Center Cathedral of Praise in South Bend, Indiana.

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Lester F. Sumrall February 15, 1913 -April 28, 1996 Louise M. Sumrall February 26, 1913 - May 11, 1994

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