Wherever He Leads Me By Helen S. Liu

I was born in a small village near the city of Tangshan, Luan County, in Hebei Province, China, in 1917. My father ran a business in Tianjin and my whole family (three older brothers and two older sisters) moved there shortly after I was born. As the youngest child in the family, I was naturally pampered and spoiled. During elementary and middle school, I was educated in the ShengKung Girl’s High School in Tianjin. It was a Catholic school, but strangely enough, no one ever tried to lead me to Christ. On rare occasions, Cardinal Yubin came to visit our school. The principal would ask me to present flowers to him on behalf of the student body. Sometimes, the principal would also take us to the Catholic Church of the French Concession in Tianjin to observe mass, but unfortunately, it did not make any impression on me.

I always did well in school and upon my graduation from high school, I passed the exams and was accepted to two universities — Yanjing University in Beijing and Nankai University in Tianjin. Since my father was conservative and always followed tradition, he wouldn’t allow a girl to study in Beijing. So, I could only go to Nankai University. In my second year of college, my father’s business suffered a considerable loss. My family’s finances weren’t the same. To help my family, I switched my major without hesitation from Western Literature (which I loved deeply) to economics. Since Nankai University’s economic graduates were in hot demand in the job market, it was a good choice.

Shortly after, the Sino-Japanese War broke out in the Marco Polo bridge incident. Nankai was bombed by the Japanese during air strike practices. Pressed by the Japanese attempt to invade, the university was forced to move down south to the city of Changsha, in Hunan. When I was notified about the move, I was determined to go. My father was naturally unsure about the idea, but my mother persuaded him. She also prepared for my travel expenses and I was soon on my way to Changha with a few other fellow students. The university temporarily borrowed the campus of the Bible Institute of Changsha and we enjoyed a short period of peace and tranquility. However, the Japanese soon started their air raids against Changha — a city with virtually no anti-air raid facilities.

I remember one morning in particular. I was doing my homework in my dorm room and all of a sudden, I heard a huge earth-shattering explosion. Instinctively, I hid under the table and waited for the air raids to pass. When it grew quiet, I ran out of the dorm and saw many students running to the point of impact. They told me it was horrifying and unbearable and I shouldn’t go look. They said the explosion created several big holes in the street and scattered parts of human bodies everywhere — there were even limbs hanging in the trees. Even though I was too scared to go look, from that day forward, the frightening shadow of war, was deeply branded into my heart.

Changha also was no longer safe and the university was fatefully forced to move again. The administration made a decision to send some of the women and men by boat — taking the train from Changsha to Guanzhou, then boarding a ship from Hong Kong to Hanoi, and finally, from Hanoi to Kunming. The rest of the men walked 1500 kilometers from Changha to the city of Kuming. My fiance at the time, Yungkuei Liu, went with this“Walking Troupe” and still has pictures of this journey. Since those by boat arrived earlier, there was a lack of space. The Institute of Liberal Arts was moved to Mengzi, a small town near Kuming. The men in the Walking Troupe gradually arrived as well. By then, the university had changed its name to South West Alliance University (SWAU); a combination of three institutes: Tsinghua University, Beijing University and Nankai University.

The two years at Mengzi were peaceful and we were able to concentrate on our studies. There was only one thing that frightened us. All the female students stayed in one huge dormitory and the university scheduled some of our classes in the evenings. A rumor spread that terrified us — that armed bandits in the nearby mountains would come down to kidnap female students to be their wives. To make sure this stayed just a rumor, we had guards escorting us to and from our evening classes.

Mengzi was a small town and there were only two places to go in our spare time. One of them was a lake off the side of the road and the other was a small coffee house run by a native of the Annan tribe. One morning, our English professor (a British poet) was strolling by the lake in search of inspiration when he ran into bandits. They robbed him of his wristwatch and gold-rimmed glasses. He begged the bandits to let him keep his glasses because he could not survive a day without them or find the right replacements in China. The hearts of the bandits actually softened and they showed him mercy by returning his glasses. He was greatly touched and later wrote a poem in remembrance.

I graduated with honors in Mengzi and was later admitted to the Institute of Economics at Nankai University to continue my graduate studies. This institute was located in the Nanyu High School at Shapingba, in the Sichuan Province. I got a ride from the Agricultural Bureau and traveled to ChungKing. On the way, the driver was very conceited and egotistic. The best bed had to be saved for him and he had to eat at the same table with the passengers. When I arrived in Shapingba, I settled in the dorms for the high school’s female instructors. At that time, President Buoling Zhang also lived on the campus. He often invited graduate students to his house for dinner. His wife (Grandma Si) would often prepare a dish of sliced pork in garlic sauce to treat us. Dr. Zhuomin Li was the director of the Economics Institute of Nankai University.

During my life at Shapingba, the one thing that impacted me the most was fleeing from the air strikes at the sound of the sirens. The Sino-Japanese War was growing more and more intense. One hundred and twenty Japanese bombers took turns bombing ChungKing. Shapingba naturally was affected as well. There was no escape from the bombing. On sunny days and moonlit nights, Japanese bombers would come, so we always had a suitcase packed with important files, family pictures, and so forth. When we heard the sirens, we would pick up the suitcase and run to the anti-air raid tunnels and hide for several hours. Most of the tunnels were inside mountain caves and were pretty solid. However, there was one time when the entrance to one of the tunnels caved in, blocking the way out, and many people died inside. Another time, the bombing was so terrible all the streets were wiped out and houses were leveled to the ground. So many people came out of the tunnels and couldn’t find their homes anymore. War truly is cruel and merciless!

Although I got excellent grades from the Institute of Economics, I was extremely moody and frustrated. I had no interest at all in economics, and I missed my family. I had only one motivation in choosing economics as my major in the first place: to make finding a job more convenient. I told the dean I wanted a temporary break from my studies so I could return home. The dean was disappointed as several professors already had privately decided I should take the test for government-sponsored studies in the United States. They felt I had a great chance of success in passing the test. However, the dean saw how determined I was and granted me permission to take a temporary leave of absence from school. I had a very brief meeting with Yungkuei on my way home from Shapingba to Kunming. Then I journeyed to Tianjin, via Hong Kong. My education ended for the time being. When I came back to Tianjin, I was grateful to find both my parents safe and sound.

Marriage and Family

My parents made the decision of my engagement to Yungkuei. His father and my father were longtime friends. In the same year of my entrance into the university, the Liu family sent a matchmaker to my family with an engagement proposal. My parents saw that Yungkuei was handsome, with the manner of a gentleman. They also saw his down-to-earth personality and took a great liking to him. They accepted the proposal without hesitation. We were introduced to each other afterwards. Even today, I am personally still in favor of arranged marriages. Parents are more experienced and their considerations are more conclusive, making their choices more appropriate.

Yungkuei and I were a perfect match, mutually complimentary. He was the oldest among his siblings and was well-disciplined and a perfectionist in all he did. However, I was the youngest among my siblings and I was pampered, spoiled and naturally willful. From the time of our engagement, he always was the one to yield to my will. During the years of war, he traveled with me as we wandered from place to place as students. I had always been articulate — there is no stopping me once I start talking, but he is quiet and talks very little. Before I became a Christian, I liked attention and desired admiration from others, but he was modest, reclusive and content with who he was.

After I returned from the inland area to Tianjin, I stayed in my alma mater. I was a student counselor at Shengkung Girl’s High School and taught some courses in government. However, I felt resentful in certain situations. For example, there was a time when a Catholic nun asked me to open and inspect each student’s letters. Since the school had a rule that hair could not reach below the ears, the Catholic nuns forcibly cut the hair of students who violated this rule. I strongly disagreed with these practices and soon quit the job.

In the middle of my distress, I was very ill with a high fever and was diagnosed with diphtheria, among other minor ailments. The doctor instructed my parents to stay awake throughout the night in order to give me injections of blood plasma to help cure the diphtheria. If there were any adverse reactions, those were signs of imminent danger. In the middle of my high fever, I overheard the doctor’s warnings. There was only one thought in my mind — to see Yungkuei for the last time before I died. I had a telegram sent to Yungkuei who was still in Kunming at the time. The telegram said: “Seriously ill. Return immediately. Helen.” When he received the telegram, Yungkuei terminated his studies and returned immediately to Tianjin before the semester ended. By the time he returned, I was already past the critical stage and on my way to recovery.

Getting married was natural, since both of us had finished our education. We held a grand wedding at the People’s Restaurant in Tianjin. Many guests attended the ceremony, both Chinese and foreign, and gifts were received in abundance.

After the marriage, Yungkuei worked in the export department of the Medison-Jarding Co. He was an assistant to his father, ChengRu Liu. A year later, DaChung Liu (David Liu), our eldest son was born. Then a year after that, our daughter Chih-Mei Liu came into the world. We were living with my in-laws and enjoyed this period of our wonderful life. A nanny took care of the kids and so I had nothing to worry about. Unfortunately, good times don’t last. The Japanese invasion started pressing harder and all of my father-in-law’s assets were frozen. We soon fell into poverty. Yungkuei had to start a business with his friends and we moved out of the house to live on our own. At the same time, I secured a job in the Kailuan Mining Bureau as a secretary. I had a reasonably good salary, which relieved the family’s financial burden to a certain extent. The most attractive aspect about the job was the regular supply of coal, which was precious for heat. During the Anti-Japanese War, all goods and commodities were subject to a controlled supply. It was hard to get coal no matter how much money you had. Even rice was in short supply. We once had to buy rice in secret from a person who hid it in the legs of his trousers because my daughter was sick and I wanted to cook some rice porridge for her.

This miserable time in our life lasted until the unconditional surrender of the Japanese. My father-in-law’s assets were returned and Yungkuei also earned a handsome return from trading soybeans to the Northeast. My youngest son, HsingChung Liu (Peter Liu), was born during this period of joy and celebration and my father-in-law purchased two European-styled houses. They were in the best area of the British Concession in Tianjin. One of them was for us and the other was for my third younger brother-in-law, Yunglin Liu. Since he was still young, the house was rented out. After we moved in, we had a chef, a nanny and a maid. Life was once again nothing but comfort. Yungkuei and I frequently went to places like dancing ballrooms and theaters for entertainment.

Major government officials came to Tianjin in order to take over the city from the Japanese. Mr. Zijian Huang was one of them. He was the director of the Academic Department of Nankai University and he invited a few of us Nankai graduates to assist him. I was designated to take over the Social Services Bureau and I quit my job at the Kailuan Mining Bureau. I went to the city government to be an “official.” Not long after, Professor Huang went back to Nankai and I soon left the Social Services Bureau.

The peaceful life did not last long. The Eighth Route Communist Army started attacking and the country was again thrown into turmoil and chaos. Yungkuei’s second younger sister and her husband moved to Fengshang in Taiwan. His first younger sister and her husband moved to Kaoshung in Taiwan. My father-in-law called for a family meeting to decide whether preparations should be made to flee from the coming disaster. Yungkuei even made a special trip to Kunming to see if it would be wise to move there. My father-in-law sent a large sum of money to Yungkuei’s second younger sister and her husband to have them prepare a place for us to live in Taipei, Taiwan.

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