His Mysterious Ways
February is the month of entrance examinations all over Japan. It often snows and even develops into a blizzard in the worse case, causing great predicaments for the examinees. It was one such day in 1945, when at age twelve I took an entrance examination for a high school, my mother’s alma mater and the most prestigious in the prefecture. To my dismay, I failed. In fact, the result was only to be expected. Just two months before I, my mother, and two younger brothers evacuated from Tokyo to my mother’s hometown, Hirosaki, in the most northern part of the main island. The previous year until then I had little time to study, let alone prepare for the entrance examination. Most of my time was spent in a bomb shelter either at home or at school, avoiding the B 29 raids. Thus, I grudgingly entered a Methodist girls’ high school. It was but a second choice for me.
Hirosaki is a city with a strong Protestant background. It produced the first Methodist bishop in Japan. Yet, I had never been directly exposed to Christianity until I entered this school, just as a majority of my classmates had never been. The local pastor’s once-a-month harangue at chapel was an ordeal. On the other hand, I was fascinated by abridged stories of the Old Testament I read in the library–stories of the serpent’s temptation, the forty days’ inundation, the sibling rivalry, strange dreams, the Red Sea split into two, etc., etc.
During the six years of my high school days a number of missionaries would come and go. Among them were austere Miss Byler, who taught me the importance of punctuality, and gentle Miss Brittain, who encouraged me to go on to higher education. They both looked ancient, though they must not have been any older than I am now. The most memorable missionaries were the J-3s (Japan Threes) fresh out of college. Especially Miss Hartley and her Bible class after school were very popular. It had strong magnetism even for college boys around the city. This worried the older missionaries. Finally, Miss Hartley was transferred to the most southern end of Japan. I still remember her swollen eyes full of tears when she gave a heart-rending farewell message in front of the whole school gathered in the auditorium. How indignant and sad we students were for her.
I received baptism before I graduated from the Methodist girls’ high school. It was the beginning of my new life. Indeed, He works in mysterious ways.