Chapter 3 - Streets That Are Desolate

One dark night in Korea in 1939 Minoru Sato rose quickly from his sleeping mat and hurried to the side of his crying baby.

“Hush, little one.

Wearily he quieted her cries and cared for her needs, but he had not been quick enough. His wife stirred, and her terrible, racking cough began again.

“Mi-no-ru?”

“The baby’s all right, Chiyo. Go back to sleep.”

Minoru was exhausted, working all day and caring for his baby daughter and critically ill wife all night. lie sank down onto his mat again, trying to sleep, while the deep coughing, coughing, coughing of his dear wife kept tearing at the fabric of the quiet night. He hoped the baby would not be awakened again so that he could rest a little before dawn.

Chiyo was grateful to stop her household chores and nurse the baby. Her lung hemorrhages were ocurring often now, leaving her exhausted, breathing with difficulty. Put she would not rest when there was work to do, except while feeding the baby. And even though the baby’s needs were only half met by her own milk, further draining her strength, these were precious moments to her. She was not willing to let them go. How good the Lord had been in giving them this little daughter! So soon now this little one would take her place in this world. Chiyo knew that she did not have long to live.

As the baby snuggled contentedly in her bosom, her thoughts wandered back to the time Minoru entered her life, when she and her mother had been living behind the little Christian meeting house in Furuichi, Japan.

Chiyo, Noguchi’s father had died but his widow did not need to work, for the family was provided for by the father’s wealthy sister who was living in Korea. When nineteen year old, Chiyo developed tuberculosis of the lungs the family was broken up still more. tier mother placed the two younger children with relatives and took Chiyo to Furuichi, thinking that rest in the good country air would help her daughter recover more quickly. In 1936 no medicine, no other treatment than rest and fresh air were known.

Chiyo was an earnest Christian, faithful in attending the meetings behind her home. The services usually were led by a missionary, Miss Dorothy Hoare, but one day Miss Hoare brought a young man with her to begin assisting in the meetings. Twenty-three year old Minoru Sato had not been a Christian very long, but was eager to serve the Lord. Soon he and Chiyo became good friends.

Chiyo’s aunt from Korea was visiting at the time, noticed the new friendship and approved it. Thinking that if Sato San had employment in Furuichi it would become possible for him to marry Chiyo, she bought a rice shop and hired him to do the work. But he was not much good at this type of business. lie was too soft-hearted, too easy on the customers! Many bought on credit, saying they had no money to pay, and as their debts grew larger, Sato San earned less and less.

After several months of unproductive effort Chiyo’s aunt suggested that Sato San return to Korea with her and work in her relative’s ice-making plant in Pusan. If he did well there Chiyo could follow him to Korea later and they could be married. Perhaps by that time Chiyo would be completely well.

Sato San worked in Pusan for a year before Chiyo came to Korea to marry him, as her aunt bad arranged. They became faithful members of the small Japanese Presbyterian church, which was near their home. Within a year their little daughter was born.

Minoru Sato’s boyhood home was very different from the one into which his little girl was born, for he grew up in the dark shadow of the butsudan, the family godshelf of Buddha. Every day a bowl of rice was placed in front of it to feed, the spirits of the ancestors. A small vase of fresh flowers was also kept there. On special days, such as the anniversary of the death of some ancestor, long thin sticks of incense were burned before it as an offering.

His home also had a kamidana, the symbol of Shintoism. In many Japanese homes, the kamidana is simply a plain wooden shelf up near the ceiling, where children cannot reach it and it cannot be spoiled by dirt. On the shelf are tablets inscribed to various Shinto deities. Nothing must be placed above this shelf or misfortune will befall the family. In two story homes of large families such as Minoru’s, a piece of paper with the words “clouds” written on it is placed above the kamidana to show that above the Clouds there is nothing.” This eases the mind of family members who must go upstairs to work or sleep above it.

Day after day, as far back as he could remember, Minoru saw his father place a little cup of water in front of the kamidana, and heard him clap his hands sharply to attract the attention of the gods. His father would then drink the water to obtain strength for the day. But he was not a very religious man.

Minoru’s mother was much more deeply, religious than his father. She kept still another godshelf in the kitchen on the wall behind the cooking stove, and Minoru often saw her praying for her children in front of this ugly little god.

Father Sato’s fortunes were reversed by World War 1, and his business collapsed when Minoru was only nine years old. He began drinking so heavily that the family savings were soon gone, and their home was reclaimed because of debt. He took another woman and deserted his wife arid children. His ten children were left without resources, and had nothing to eat. The sound of the scraping of the empty rice container burned its way into Minoru’s memory for a lifetime.

“I’ll run away!” Minoru decided. He loved to read and study, had always been best in his class, but had to leave school at thirteen to help support his poverty-stricken family. He had been apprenticed in a window frame factory in Kobe, twenty-five miles from home, fitting glass into window frames. As the months passed he became increasingly unhappy. Often, he hid books in the sleeves of his kimono so he could slip them out and read them furtively as he worked. The owner of the business was very cross whenever lie discovered Minoru reading rather than working! But still his hungry mind was discontented, and he began to steal from his employer to buy more books.

Now his thefts had been discovered! In the middle of the night he sneaked out into the darkness to escape being taken to the police in the morning, and began the long walk back to Furuichi. But when he finally reached home he was afraid to go in! What would lie tell his parents? Instead, he turned towards the fields and mountains behind his home and wandered for a week, eating anything he could find growing that seemed edible. As the days passed his hunger and despair deepened.

He felt for his knife, fondling it with his fingers. Why not go over by the lake, Cut the veins in his wrists and bleed to death there at the water’s edge. Purposefully he strode to the lakeside, pulled out his knife before he could change his mind, and drew it swiftly across the vein in one wrist. His heart pounding wildly, he watched for the blood to spurt out! But only a trickle came. He had not cut deeply enough. Perhaps suicide was not such a good idea after all, and slashing one’s wrists was more painful than he had realized.

Slipping the knife back into its place, on impulse he turned from the lake toward a small shop nearby that sold food. He had noticed it only a short time before and had discovered that is was managed by an elderly couple living alone here in the mountains. He walked in, ordered his meal and sat down at a table.

Minoru ate hungrily. Though he had no money, a plan had formed in his mind, and lie sat quietly until all the other customers were gone. Then the owner came and asked him to pay so that the shop could close for the night, Minoru swiftly pulled out his knife and waved in menacingly. For a moment the old man was frightened, thinking he was going to be attacked.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Minoru said loudly, trying to scowl fiercely, “but I don’t have any money to pay for my meal. Just let me go!”

Now the old man was angry rather than afraid. “If you had told me you were hungry,” he said crossly, “I would have been glad to give you something to eat free. But since you took the food without asking, you are a thief. I’m taking you to the police!”

Minoru’s fierceness melted away. He was in enough trouble already! The old man began to realize that this was just a frightened fifteen year old, and after giving him a good scolding let him go.

There was no place to go but home. Minoru discovered that the back door was open. His mother had learned that he was no longer at the factory in Kobe, and had left tile door open nJq9t after night, knowing that eventually lie would come home. Even so, he was afraid to go in. lie spent the night in the garden instead, sleeping on some old rags lie had found. His mother discovered him there in the morning, still asleep.

After a month at home he was sent out to work again. During the next four years he had a variety of jobs, but another thirst had begun to master him as it had his father. He found a job helping to make sake but drank almost as much as he earned.

By this time his father had returned home and built a small house in Furuichi, on property Minoru’s uncle provided for him. When not drinking, Father Sato worked periodically as a plasterer. lie also became involved in local politics, helping the mayor of Furuichi to administer the local reformatory of a hundred boys.

Minoru helped at the reformatory as a counsellor for the delinquent boys, but found himself unable to help as much as lie would have liked. Not even popular music was permitted, but one boy knew some hymns and no one objected to his singing these. It occurred to Minoru that if the boys were taught Christian hymns it might improve their behavior, so he invited Dorothy Hoare, a missionary, to come teach choruses to the boys. Miss Hoare not only taught the boys hymns, but also gave a little talk about the things of God each time she came.

“Sato San,” she said to him one day, “there are some special meetings being held in Kashiwara. Won’t you please come?”

What could he say? He did not want to go, but since he was obligated to her for coming to the reformatory, he agreed. Thus one Sunday in June, 1936 he found himself listening to a sermon on, Barabbas.

Minoru’s cheeks felt hot. How had the speaker found out about his sins? He thought the preacher was speaking directly to him, and felt confused ad ashamed, realizing that he was no better than the boys he was trying to help. Minoru opened his heart to Jesus Christ and was born again. Light and joy filled his heart! By September 1936 he was baptized. Here he met Chiyo, and they were married in Korea the following year.

Chiyo was gravely ill. Since Minoru’s salary was small, he had taken many of his things to the pawnbrokers in order to buy good food for his wife, but she was worse rather than better. For some time she had been too weak to carry the baby to church, so lie had been strapping the little one to his own back and carrying her. But now for nearly two weeks Chiyo had been too ill to go to church at all, or even to get up from her mat to do any work. Both lungs were almost gone. Fortunately, in spite of her dreadful state, neither Sato San nor the baby became infected with tuberculosis.

Tuberculosis has been the great killer of Japan. It has been estimated that in the year 1939 alone as many as 2,120 out of every million people died of this disease. And how many more lived on without hope, having never heard of a loving God?

They lived under the bondage of darkness as well as disease, in streets that were desolate. Because of the illness of his own wife, Sato San was desperately conscious of the awfulness of tuberculosis, and his heart was burdened with the desire to do something to help these suffering people.

Minoru leaped to his feet and rushed to his wife’s aid. She was choking! Desperately he did everything possible to bring tier relief, for she was obviously choking to death. As the crisis passed she lay back in his arms, exhausted, and he held her close, comforting her.

Minoru,” she said, so softly he could barely hear.

“Yes?”

“There is great peace in my heart from God. Will you–“, she paused, to gain strength to go on, “–will you please read Psalm 84 to me?”

He found the passage in the Bible and began to read, the tears streaming down his cheeks so that lie could barely see the words:

How lovely is Thy dwelling place, O Lord of Hosts.
My soul longs, yes, faints for the courts of the Lord.
My heart and flesh sing for joy to the Living God.
Even the sparrow finds a home and the swallow a nest for herself where she may lay her young, at Thy altars O Lord of Hosts, my King and my God.
Blessed are those who dwell in Thy House ever singing Thy praise!
Blessed are the men whose strength is in Thee, in whose heart are the highways to Zion.

As they go through the valley of weeping they make it a place of springs; the early rain also covers it with pools.
They go from strength to strength;
The God of gods will be seen in Zion.
O Lord of Hosts, hear my prayer!
Give ear, O God of Jacob!
Behold, O God our shield!
Look upon the face of Thine anointed!

For a day in Thy Courts is better than a thousand elsewhere.
I would rather be a doorkeeper in the House of my God than dwell in the tents of wickedness, For the Lord God is a sun and shield.
He bestows favor and honor.
No good thing does the Lord withhold from those who walk uprightly.
O Lord of Hosts, Blessed is the man who trusts in Thee!

Three days later Chiyo said, “Minoru, take the baby away this morning, for I think I may die today. I can hardly bear to leave you both behind, but I know God’s ways are perfect. He will be with you always.”

Sato San took his baby to a woman to care for and quickly returned to Chiyo. Worn out, he lay down beside her sleeping mat to rest for a few minutes, and fell asleep. When he awoke an hour later, she was gone.