Far down the Cheng Kia Valley lived a man called Cheng, who suffered from a distressing throat inflammation which caused the throat to close gradually. Only liquid food can be swallowed. If Cheng attempted to take anything solid, he would suffer great pain and vomiting. Like many before him, he was condemned to die of starvation accompanied by acute pains.

For over a year he had been bedridden; and each day in that year had seen him growing more wraith-like. Towards the end he looked like a skeleton in a feeble pellicle of flesh that held his body together. In spite of all this, he entertained hopes of recovery. He was not foolishly optimistic, since he clearly understood that chances of his surviving his sickness were slight. But he was steadfast in his resolution to try every means in the hope that one would effect his rescue before the icy clutch of death's hand dragged him into the West Heaven.

By means of gestures, he conveyed to his relatives his desire to come into contact with the Christians in Kingtzekuan. He had often heard about the diseases which they had overcome---generally, too, such sicknesses as were outside the scope of medical aid. Cheng knew well what the Christians craved from him in repayment, but he was willing to believe in their God if he was healed.

The church elders travelled over the long road to the patient's home, to tell him about his Lord and Savior and to pray for his recovery. These Christians were fired by the right disciple attitude: for them it was an honour and a blessing to be of help. No matter how long the road, they traversed it if they could be of comfort and cheer at the end. When they stood in front of Cheng's kang, and saw the man lying on it, their hearts were filled with a God-inspired compassion. Here no other than the Lord Almighty could accomplish anything.

Together they knelt down before the patient and prayed their Lord and Master to intervene and heal him from his wasting sickness. In the ears of the sick one, the prayer sounded like the most harmonious music, a music with an indefinable rhythym. And he recognized the divine interposition behind it as it propelled tingling streams through his body. He managed to distinguish the words.

"Thou, our Lord and Saviour who didst say once to Your disciples, 'What things soever ye desire, when ye pray, believe that ye recieve them, and ye shall have them' (Mark xi.24) Thou whose eyes neither slumber nor sleep behold the sick man here, save his soul and raise him up to full health and strength."

Cheng lay and heard the words, noticed the powerful current flowing through him, and knew he would recover. These prayers were predestined to soothe pain, cure the sick and aid the heathen from darkness into the brilliant light of Eternity's God. His throat opened up, his breathing came easier, and the pain disappeared as dew in the forenoon. Cheng regarded the Christians with eyes that beamed their gratitude as tears trickled down his hollowed cheeks. The brethren seemed to sense a heavenly breeze blowing through the room when they shook Cheng's hand in farewell.

His strength daily increased as he received fresh, nutritous food. Some months later he stood and, supported by two relatives, took his first tottering steps. Each day he improved. The day when he could walk unassisted save for two rugged canes was soon followed by the day when he could again move about freely, untrammelled by external aid. Finally the day came when he knew that he had fully won back his health, and when in fact he had never felt so well in all his life. That day was his birthday, and his relatives came from every side to see their kinsman and congratulate him on his great day.

Cheng sat in the family circle and enjoyed himself immensely in the position of central attraction in the society. In the course of the evening Cheng totally suprised them. Accompanied by boisterous acclaim, he told how he had tricked Jesus into healing him of his dangerous throat disease. He maintained that he had duped the Christians, though certainly these thoughts had not popped up consciously before his grand family party had been scheduled. It had never been his intention to worship the God of the Christians, he claimed while the head of the clan praised the family gods for the goodness they had bestowed upon them in giving them such a smart man.

No time was lost in deciding that Cheng and the senior members of the clan should offer to the family gods. Both the family and their intimate friends preened themselves with the honour and reflected glory of knowing the one who had managed to deceive Jesus......they knew of no others. It would be a choice morsel of small talk to relay to their cronies.

The family gods received a luxurious offering in one of the clans most festive celebrations. They "buttered" the temple priests extravagantly, and took part in the sacrifices in unusual exuberance. The eyes of the chief god of the temple "gleamed" with gratitude and approval on scanning the magnificent presents. The worshippers had heard of this special mark of favour which the god extended when exceptionally pleased with his followers, but they had never dreamed of witnessing the marvel. Everything pointed to the high degree of favour with which the gods regarded Cheng. He must indeed have been inspired by the spirit world to impose upon the foreigner's God. In a group they returned to Cheng's home after the ceremonies to recount to the rest of the tribe the wondrous climax at the feet of the temple's god.

But the Creator of Heaven and earth has said; "I am the Lord; that is My name and My glory will I not give to another, neither my praise to graven images" (Isa. xlii.8)

Cheng, the focal point of his family circle, was describing his trip to the temple. Uplifted by wonder and rejoicing, they gloried in unison over the good fortune which would surely characterize their family in the future. Unexpectedly his hands flew to his neck, the words froze on his lips, his eyes glazed, and Cheng collapsed to the floor. His sickness had recoiled on him.

Helpless with this seizure of his former agony, he lay writhing on his kang. Being in no condition to swallow even the thinnest gruel, he again called for the Christians.

They came and prayed once more for the sick man. God in His bounteous mercy anew had compassion on Cheng and healed him.

The almost resistless power of the gods of heathendom over their devotees is frightening. Poor Cheng was too abjectly ashamed to confess his choice to follow the foreign God who had cured him. In the murky darkness of night he sneaked off to the temple, where he thanked the images for his healing.

As he slunk back late in the night he thought nobody could spot him. But One saw him-- the One who had snatched him out of the fangs of disease. Cheng furtively advanced, spying in every direction for the foreign God whom he could not see and whom he therefore presumed had retired for the night. He grasped the latch of the door, but on swinging it open, he staggered across the threshold under the crippling force of his former ailment. No avenue of escape remained.

Cheng worsened as the days sped on. The Christians did not receive any guidance from God to pray for him. Cheng's strength hourly dwindled until one night he slipped through the folds of eternity's curtain.

Relatives and friends burned heaps of paper to conduct him in the kingdom of death: but all to no avail. Cheng had chosen and gone to his own place.