Benefactors in Hard Times

With the fifth son nearing the end of primary school, the junior high in our township had an ever-worse record for getting pupils on to further study. Parents who cared about their children’s futures tried every way they could to place them in private junior highs elsewhere, but the fees were steep.

The fifth son and his closest classmate, Cui Lezhong, came home on their form teacher’s advice to talk over what to do next. The Cui family were good neighbours of ours; on something this important we all sat down and went through it carefully.

The boys were still young. Any school far from home had to have a dormitory.

Later, on the suggestion of Father Zhuang Mingyang, who served our church, they sat the entrance exam for Xuhui Middle School in Luzhou. Both boys passed, and the parents and Teacher Lan were delighted.

The Cuis had no trouble with fees—Lezhong was their second child—but in our house Guangyi was the fifth, with two older brothers and two older sisters still in school. Sending the fifth son to a private junior high meant finding five thousand New Taiwan dollars for the first term. My husband and I racked our brains over that sum. Just when we did not know what to do, I thought of someone we could ask for help.

This Mr Yang lived in the south. During his military service he had been posted to my husband’s unit and had worked three years on the same shift as my husband, who was his team leader.

A few months before Mr Yang was due to be discharged, something urgent came up at home. His father wanted him back early. He was one night shift short of leave, but the family matter could not wait. He had no time to ask the observation chief for permission, so he asked his team leader first and begged my husband to find someone to cover his shift.

My husband told him, “Go home with an easy mind. I will watch your post for you.” Mr Yang thanked him again and again, then took the highway bus from Laomei back south.

That night, Lieutenant Colonel Zhang, the observation chief—who had never once checked the night shift—suddenly appeared in the work room. After a glance he asked, “Where is Yang? Why is he not on duty?”

My husband answered off the cuff, “Reporting, sir—Yang has gone to the lavatory.” The chief said, “Team Leader Tang, a man as honest and steady as you—how can you lie? Yang clearly skipped duty and went south, and you are covering for him. If anything goes wrong on the job, the team leader is responsible. Do you understand?” He scolded my husband harshly.

My husband explained, “Yang had an emergency at home. He was only one major night shift short. I promised to stand in for him. If anything happens, punish me.” The chief listened and left without another word.

After he had gone, the men on the shift had all seen Team Leader Tang take a dressing-down for Mr Yang’s sake and felt it was unfair. When Mr Yang came back from leave, someone told him, “Team Leader Tang suffered a great deal because of you.”

Mr Yang heard that and thanked my husband over and over. My husband comforted him: “It was not that serious. Do not brood on it; let it pass.” Not long after, Mr Yang was discharged and went home. Later we heard he was working in customs brokerage and doing well.

Three or four years after his discharge, one summer he drove his own car to Taipei on business and called on us to see the team leader he missed most.

We were all so glad to meet again; we had endless talk of army days, bit by bit.

He said his career was doing reasonably well. As he spoke, he put an arm round my husband’s shoulders and led him into the kitchen. I watched from the living room while the two of them talked there for a few minutes. When they came out, before long he said, “My girlfriend is waiting outside—I must go. Next time I am near, I will visit again. Goodbye!”

After he left I asked my husband, “What did Mr Yang say with his arm round you in the kitchen?” My husband said, “Mr Yang knows our children are at the age that costs the most. He wanted to help us. He said to tell him how much we needed and he would send money as soon as he got back. I thanked him but said we were managing for now, and if we ever truly could not carry on, I would certainly ask.” I was deeply moved. For a single favour my husband had done him, Mr Yang had carried it in his heart for years after leaving the army.

So every summer Mr Yang would come to find Team Leader Tang and ask whether we needed money. For about three years this went on. When the fifth son was due to enter Xuhui Middle School we really could not raise the cash, and at last we asked to borrow five thousand dollars. He gladly sent a cheque at once. We agreed that when our eldest daughter finished nursing school and started work, we would repay him.

Thanks to Mr Yang’s help, the fifth son could finally enrol at Xuhui Middle School.

The next year we had five thousand ready to return to Mr Yang, but when we posted it to the address he had left, it came back—addressee unknown.

After that Mr Yang never visited us again. We asked old army friends who had served with him; none knew where he had gone. May God keep him safe all his life and bless his work.