January 22, 2002

Farming in China

Dear Friends,

Six months ago I came to China as a volunteer English teacher, but currently I am more involved in agriculture than education. No, I am not experimenting with Chinese herbs on my kitchen porch, nor am I picking cotton at the fields just outside of town. I am investing in potentially eternal plants, in what I call Human Agriculture.

Upon my arrival in Yuncheng, I was nowhere near ready to begin planting. I first needed to survey my land. Where could I find good soil? When would be the best time to begin planting? How much time would I have to spend caring for the plants? The combination of so many questions, added to the task of physically acclimating to my new home, made for a rather long first stage of my farming process. I spent virtually all of September adjusting and surveying.

Come October, I was still unsure of where to begin planting. There was soil everywhere: Where I live, where I teach, where I buy my food, etc. Rather confused, I decided to ask the Lord of the harvest to bring me to where I needed to begin planting. Soon after lifting up my petition, it was granted: I was not led to the good soil, but it was brought to me. Not once, not twice, but on three different occasions.

The soil first came to me in the form of two girls, Sha Sha (8) and
Miao Miao (10). It was a weekday afternoon when the girls escorted a shampoo salesman came to my door. While I was trying to avoid a purchase I would later regret, the girls just walked past me and began exploring the inside of my apartment. It was their first time in a foreigner’s home. After the man left I showed them my family photos, offering them a juice box and giving them each a Chinese kids magazine. Although they could only say hello in
English, I was able to speak enough Chinese to communicate with them. Both seemed rather shy, so when they left I invited them to come back when they could.

Since then, there have been numerous evenings when I hear the pitter-patter of little feet coming up the stairs, announcing the arrival of my little visitors. On one of those evenings, however, I was too tired to entertain. Upon hearing the knocking at my door, I froze, waiting for it to pass. Half an hour later, my teaching partner Ilse came over. She handed me a small folded-up piece of paper, telling me it was stuck in my door. When I opened it up my heart sank. It was a happy-birthday picture the girls had drawn for me. I am thankful for the graciousness and forgiveness that the Lord of the harvest has for me when I forget to put others first.

In November, my 34-year old student Kate became my second patch of soil. She never spoke much English to me and frankly, I was not even sure if she understood all that I said in class. During our third week of classes, Kate told me that at the beginning of the month she was afraid of speaking English. She felt confident in her reading and writing abilities, but felt her pronunciation and listening skills were poor. However, she was not afraid to speak anymore. Why? I had encouraged her. Without even realizing it, the few times
I had smiled and told her to try to give her answer in English, because I knew she could do it, I had been planting.

For Thanksgiving Kate gave me a self-composed English poem. In it she wrote many compliments, including the following line, "Caroline, our goddess." Although a bit excessive, the poem helped encourage me to continue investing in students like Kate, who come to our training center one month and are gone the next. With Kate, I continue my watering and fertilizing via writing letters. Now I have even begun writing three of her middle school students. The seeds continue spreading.

The third patch of soil came at a hole-in-the-wall noodle shop. Ilse and I found seats inside to avoid the stares of inquisitive passersby. As we began eating our noodles, George, a third-year student at our school, began talking with us. He stood until his noodles came, then he invited himself to sit and eat with us. We had a pleasant chat until finishing our noodles; then we told him we had to leave. Before parting, however, George asked for our phone numbers.

Later that week he called to invite Ilse and me to lunch with him and a friend. Not the most proficient of English speakers, we found this friendly gesture to be rather brave on George’s part, so we accepted his invitation. The following weekend we had lunch with his family, including a trip to his grandparents home in the countryside. Soon after, George and two of his classmates cooked us Chinese food, which we later reciprocated by preparing a spaghetti lunch. Next came George’s class’s New Year’s Eve party. After New Year’s
George came with us to visit an old lady from our church. There were other days when he just stopped by to talk.

On one of those hang-out afternoons, George began typing on my computer. After about a half an hour, he told Ilse and me to read what he had written. I have inserted an abbreviated version below for you to read:

for Caroline and Ilse

That day, I paid money for my beeper machine, when I were hungry and want to have lunch, decided the noodle restaurant. Then I saw you, I want to speak with you very much, I were very exciting because I had never speak foreigner
in English. The first sentence was not a whole sentence, I was afraid you didn’t understand me. My life had changed since that day. Everything is get well day by day.

Thank you very much! That is my true heart sentence!

Thank you very much again!

I always thought farming was pure hard labor, lacking in any pleasurable benefits. Now, however, I am beginning to see the bigger picture. Yes, there are the sacrifices of time and energy and the reality that I might not be here long enough to reap the harvest of my labor. Yet along the way, I continue receiving numerous joys and blessings because of my farming in China. Thank you for partnering in my work here through your thoughts and prayers.

Caroline

The 2002 Mission Yearbook for Prayer & Study, p 179