Curry Puffs and Lentil Soup, Our Story Continued, #11

Every month we waited with bated breath for the mission treasurer in Britain to declare the percentage of our target salary we would receive. I’ve explained earlier that our mission had a pool system in which all the monthly amounts that came in were totalled and divided up between all the missionaries in West Pakistan, India, and East Pakistan. Sometimes the amount declared was 70% or 95% or 80%. With our experience in trusting God for daily provision in Bible College and after, we had accepted this voluntarily—but living with it was a great challenge.

We received l00 Rupees each per month, and about 15 Rupees for Stephen and Debbie together. House rent, some allowance for household help, and travel were also given. Sometimes things were especially tight. And yet throughout our missionary service, indeed throughout our lives, God has provided—not always cake and steak, but at least lentils and nan. Our cook made the most delicious lentil soup. Ever since, I’ve been trying unsuccessfully to duplicate his recipe. It reminds me of the potato curry we had in villages. And chapattis hot from the oven. So tasty. Often, simple foods taste better than foie gras or caviar, not that I know what they taste like.

When allocation was low, we were especially thankful for all those boxes of food that Westchester Bible Church in Chicago gave us before we left. We had cake mixes, coffee, canned items and even a few hams.

Opening a parcel from Mary Helen’s mother.

One time though, we and the Miltons looked at our few remaining rupees, threw up our hands and decided to blow our dough at Fircos, a bazaar restaurant. We marched in and ordered tea and a tray of little cakes and curry puffs. Oh, we enjoyed those curry puffs! Sometimes, one has to be a bit extravagant.

Mary Helen’s mother sent out parcels—especially for Christmas and birthdays. She never knew how tight we were financially and how we welcomed her parcels. Her efforts to sell baked goods at the farmers’ market so she could post packages humbled us. They didn’t have a lot of money either. Mary Helen commented, “She taught us generosity from childhood. One of her favorite expressions was, ‘anything shared tastes better’. I shall always be grateful for that heritage.”

A Pakistani Bride

That summer we attended our first Pakistani wedding. On the boat from London to Karachi, we had met a friendly Pakistani Muslim returning to Pakistan to get married. He invited us to his wedding. We accepted and in August traveled with Stephen and Debbie by bus and train to his home down on the plains. He put us up, treated us as honoured guests, and explained the different wedding customs. It was an invaluable exposure to the culture. A western wedding has nothing on a Pakistani celebration.

A Pakistani Groom

In late August of 1964, with language school over, we traveled back to Rahim Yar Khan. We had the trembling house to ourselves by then. We were eager to return to friends in the local church and try out our fledgling Urdu. When we had first arrived in the country, the existence of 5 or 6 churches had surprised us. Their presence in our outreach area was explained both by the hard work of our mission and the history of a revival movement under a pioneer, Praying Hyde.

Pakistan has a substantial minority of nominal Christians, generations removed from revivals in the early 1900’s under Praying Hyde. In 1904 he invited a group of local pastors to the city of Sialkot for a convention which became the great Sialkot Convention. Before the meeting, Hyde spent thirty days on his face before God in prayer. In this prayer-saturated environment God poured out His Spirit leading many to confess their sins and pledge themselves to God. In 1908, anguished by the sight of sin and souls doomed to hell, Hyde asked the Lord to bring a soul a day into the kingdom of God. Soon he upped that to two souls, and then four. God answered his prayers in a mighty way by moving thousands of low caste Hindus and others to become followers of Christ. Listen to a song from the convention here: https://tmblr.co/ZVz2Ix2bgQPHp

A Convention in Rahim Yar Khan, Eric praying for a newly ordained pastor

The revival had a powerful uplifting influence on what was, at that time, a portion of India. The early missionaries established hospitals and universities as well as a network of schools. Numerous Christians came to fill jobs in industry, the military, education, and nursing. Nurses were more commonly “Christian” because Muslims felt it was demeaning for their daughters to touch sick people, especially men. In spite of their progress upward, many Pakistanis still viewed Christians as tainted by their background from among a lower caste people who swept the streets and cleaned toilets. As you can tell by the recent case of Asia Bibi, refusal to use any cup or implement touched by a Christian remains a pervasive practice.

Many of our early friends in the Rahim Church were quite educated and thus able to help us with our Urdu. There were teachers such as Sharifa, Zareena, and Akhtar. (Later Debbie even named one of her daughters her version of Zareena.) Yaqub had a very responsible job in the local Lever Brothers plant. We were delighted to return to their fellowship.

But there were some further hindrances to plunging into our calling. That winter, Gloria Inniger contracted infectious hepatitis. It soon spread to Eric. Serum was sent from a mission hospital in Multan, and Mary Helen gave it to the kids. The doctor left strict instructions that Eric should convalesce for a solid six weeks or face life-long problems. Hepatitis was my introduction to recurring health challenges. Malaria, dysentery, you name it, I got it. Mary Helen seemed to be immune. Perhaps it was my carelessness or her medical training that kept her healthy.

We were expecting friends over Christmas. What to do? We decided to go ahead as long as I kept strict quarantine. And so, Ben and Betty Ralston and their boys joined us for the holidays.

On Christmas Eve we were startled by the beating of drums and the loud singing of Christmas carols in Urdu. Carolers had arrived to serenade us. We later learned that it had become customary for nominal Christians to visit Christian homes on Christmas Eve expecting tea & snacks and hopefully, cash baksheesh. Most of that night, Mary Helen and the Ralstons kept delivering tea and oranges to the carolers. In spite of limitations, we had a joyful Christmas. The Ralston boys played well with Stephen and Debbie. They were especially enamored with Debbie since she was the only little girl around. They treated her like a queen. This friendship has continued down through the years.

After my convalescence was over, I was intimidated to learn that Hidayat, one of the main pastors, expected me to begin preaching. He assumed that I would soon be able to preach in perfect Urdu like Merle Inniger! (To be continued)

(Let me know your thoughts on this subject. If you appreciate this blog, please pass it on. Further articles, books, and stories at: http://www.countrywindow.ca Facebook: Eric E Wright Twitter: @EricEWright1 LinkedIn: Eric Wright ––)

__ATA.cmd.push(function() { __ATA.initDynamicSlot({ id: 'atatags-26942-62b1d9d7c9dab', location: 120, formFactor: '001', label: { text: 'Advertisements', }, creative: { reportAd: { text: 'Report this ad', }, privacySettings: { text: 'Privacy', onClick: function() { window.__tcfapi && window.__tcfapi( 'showUi' ); }, } } }); });