A small village called Hsiwang lies in the Kingtzekuan area. Within this little idyllic hamlet lived the Wang family. Mrs. Wang, the lady of the household, a widow with an only son, was afflicted with consumption, and suffered terribly from racking pains. She had taken so much medicine that its very odour nauseated her. Having heard various stories about the foreign God and His teaching, she did not know quite what to believe.

In the month of July several evangelists visited the homes of Wei and Kung. There was illness in both these Christian homes, so the evangelists roomed with them while attending to the sick.

There is no such thing as an uniquisitive Chinese. Though this curiosity varies in degree, it is inbred, for as soon as anything remarkable happens, Chinese crowd to the scene.

Widow Wang and several of her neighbour friends went to a meeting advertised at Kung's. The majority of the crowd had come out of curiosity, but the evangelists knew how to exploit this. Unrestrainedly they witnessed and sang of their Saviour and Redeemer. Singing is something the Chinese appreciate and so it was not long before an expectant hush subdued the most unabashed conversationalists in Kung's largest room. Widow Wang was stirred by the songs and testimonies. The best reports of this religion were only partially true, for it was so much better than anything that she had dared to hpe for. Judging from outward appearances, it seemed as if these Christians, radiating such gladness and peace, had something exceptionally good inside. Whole-heartedly, she coveted a similiar joy for herself.

Just then one of the evangelists sang a solo centred on the theme of Jesus open invitation. Mrs. Wang felt this was a song of the kind of life which she had to obtain. The Christians had already told her about salvation in Jesus Christ, and the song of the Father's love described how the way was all prepared. The only thing lacking was for her to tread that pathway; that she desired to do from the depths of her soul, and the friends about her perceived her readiness. In silence they circled her in a band of prayer, and their prayers triumphed over the doubt present in her seeking heart and in all seekers, no matter how intense their longing. Mrs. Wang knelt at the foot of the cross and discovered what Jesus had promised her was no idle fancy, but a glorious reality.

None prayed for the healing of her sickness. They scarcely realized there was anything wrong with her. But in the middle of the season of prayer, a joyous cry arose from her lips. She started a song of praise to her Lord and Saviour, who had healed her from the disease which had drained her very vitality.

Perhaps it may seem a little strange that a heathen attending Gospel meetings for the first time in her life should accept Jesus as her personal Saviour before the service is over. However, it is not really strange. The heathen have lived their lives in heathenism from the day they were born until their meeting with Chrisitianity. Some have lived in the darkness longer than others, but all have one thing in common-- an ancient pagan background. When the heathen come into contact with Christianity, they react in countless ways. Some are struck by the colossal difference between the alien religion and their own. They quickly sense the differences, and their reactions are instantaneous. They arrive at a decision on the spur of the moment. In their minds, they inspect the pageantry of their gods parading in review. They see all the times they have bowed down before the idols for hours on end and offered the best they had, with never an answered prayer to repay their devotion. All they heard was the priest repeating and stressing the need for patience. The weather god, the god of the earth, the many gods of fertility, the evil gods as well as the good, they were all consistently chary of answering. On the other hand, many Christians could bear witness to the fact that their God answered their prayers; besides, Christ demanded neither money nor presents. He only required that they should believe on Him, live according to His word, and rely on His promises to be their succour in times of prosperity as well as in times of trial. This means far more to the heathen than outsiders imagine. That is why it is possible for so many to decide without hesitation or delay. They find no mysticism and no dismay in the face of their exhaustive questioning. All is above board; Christianity has nothing to conceal.

This, then, happened to Widow Wang. She observed the joy of the Christians, which, she concluded, must come from some Source mightier than themselves. Realizing her own emptiness by contrast, it made her long for an infilling of her soul with the secret power of this foreign religion.

"Big Sister Wang," as the Christians called her amongst themselves because of her large physical proportions and the strong faith which gradually came to fill her heart, became one of those sunbeams undeterred by either rain or thunder-clouds. She reflected such an inner glow that her neighbours felt themselves condemned just by looking at her.

The house she lived in was small, but commodious enough for her son and herself. Outside her home she had a field of egg-plants. The thriving green plants seemed to do better on her lot than anywhere else, and soon their high quaility became proverbial. Unfortunately, the status of the widow in the social structure of Chinese life creates endless hardships for her. It is illegal to protect her rights. The saying, "Everybody is justified in consuming the widow," applies all over China, and many Chinese openly practise such injustice. If she marries for a second time, she has to journey to her new husband without a dowry, as her relatives confiscate all her possessions.

A wealthy neighbour had long cast covetous looks on the luxuriant egg-plants growing in the widow's field. They tempted his acquisitiveness to the limit. He almost imagined that they cried out for him to come and deliver them from the care of the contemptible Christian widow. The very thought of these egg-plants gave him insomnia. He must procure them somehow. The idea of supplying himself some overcast night with all he wanted while others were abed took hold of his mind.

One ominous night, whilst the treacherous moon was veiled behind heavy black storm-clouds, the man sleuthed his way into the field and removed every plant he could find. With a greedy expression on his face, he disappeared into his own house, lay down on his kang and went to sleep, gloating over the picture of the widow's horror-struck countenance at finding out that all her eggplants had "escaped" during the night.

That very same night the widow had a remarkable dream. She saw Jesus standing on a white cloud right behind the mountain ridge to the north of the village. His voice when He spoke to her sounded deep, like mellow church bells, and His words brought glorious comfort.

"Fear not for the future. You shall be more than conqueror. I am the defender and helper of widows. You shall rest secure rejoicing in my salvation." The dream vanished, and she sank into a peaceful slumber.

Upon arising the next morning she glanced lovingly at her one field, and her look froze. Not one egg-plant remained ! But her dream was vividly fresh in her mind, and humbly she bowed herself in the presence of God and prayed for strength. The day passed like the normal routine of her everyday life, though perhaps a trifle slower than usual. Nightfall descended at length, and the village populace went to bed.

Menacing storm clouds had been banking up in the east. Unexpectedly they spread up from behind the mountains contoured against the skyline and swept down on the valley where the village was situated. No drizzle, but a leaden downpour followed. This rainstorm also lashed the neighbouring thief's splendid field. Did it wreak more havoc there than in other places ? Perhaps. Was his field more exposed than others ? Perhaps. God punishes at any rate in his own time and in his own unpredictable manner. But one thing was indisputable. When the owner of the field came to inspect it the next morning he found it transformed into a black and sandy desert. The rain had washed away the topsoil rich in organic matter, but on Widow Wang's field it had merely soaked into the black mould.

Nursing a steadily increasing hatred for her on account of her Christian beliefs, another man determined to destroy her fertile maize field. He also took advantage of a moonless night. With devilish delight, he trod underfoot the cornstalks, laden with ears. But he obtained his pleasure at too great a price. Others were also perfoming their nefarious deeds under cover of darkness. While this man went out on the widow's field exulting over each ear of corn he trampled on, Chinese bandits drove his own two cows off. He was utterly dependent on these two cows, for they were all he had to draw his plough, turn his grindstone and pull his cart. He had thought that he would break Big Sister Wang by destroying her corn crop, but instead he had unwittingly ruined himself.

Big Sister Wang must have been a festering thorn in the flank of the devil, who still refused to give up hope of winning her soul back. In her clan there was a powerful and influential man who could not brook the shame of having one of the members of the family worshipping the despised Jesus Christ. In an attempt to turn the son against the mother, he failed. Before two weeks had passed that rich man's whole family had fled to some mountain caves. A gang of robbers was on the rampage in the area, and the head of the house feared that the band would pay his home a visit; so his whole household fled, retreating to his hillside hide-out; he personally went down to Big Sister Wang and requested her in obsequious terms to be so kind as to look after his house and farm while he was hiding from the bandits. "They will do you no harm," said the would be shatterer of her faith.

In her heathen days, Big Sister Wang had once taken a vegetarian vow. She had been an enthusiastic Buddhist then but that all vanished when the Dawn's clear star became her guide.

One day a former associate of hers came and released a flood of oaths and curses over her because she had broken her vegetarian vow and forsaken Buddhism. But that self-same night the woman became ill, and after a few days of agonized lingering she died.

Following the death of this woman, the villagers busied themselves with a thorough-going discussion of Big Sister Wang. They understood that she was under special divine protection. They looked up to her, and she herself noticed that they began to respect her more and more. Many women at this time visited her in her home, where she talked with them of the greatest happiness in life-- namely, to belong to the Lord Jesus. In her own unique manner, she proved to them the truth of Christianity and the falsity of Buddhism.

As she sat thus, conversing with a former friend, the latter asked her:

"But Big Sister Wang, if Buddhism were the true religion and your Christ a liar, you would then surely turn your back on Him, wouldn't you ? "

"No; I wouldn't. I would then rather serve Christ than the truth," replied Big Sister Wang inimitably.

To this day she is a faithful servant of her Master; a ray of light in a small village in the heart of China; a rare and beautiful flower in the wilderness. Nobody has succeeded in spoiling her faith, but she has often torn away the last straws to which the heathen cling, and set others free. She works and awaits the great day when she will meet her Lord face to face.