In her own words
Here are excerpts from the writings of Claudie Peyton:
AFRICA
Africa is a land of realities with many beauties. As I walk through the veldt admiring the waxy looking shrubbery, the birds singing and the insects chirping, my heart swells with gratitude to God. The variety of grasses putting on their shades of different colors are of great interest and beauty, waving so high in the air, and seemingly all heights to the beautiful green which carpets the ground. Again its value is great in providing such serviceable roofs that not only protects from the hard pouring rains, but such a cool protection from the intense heat under the tropical sun, I had never imagined all so wonderful.
I had heard of African sunsets, but was so charmed by their beauty that I found myself trying to paint them that I might give my friends an idea of their beauty. We speak of Africa as the land of sunshine beauties and black faces. The sun is so hot at times that a helmet is necessary, while a coat or sweater is just as necessary to keep warm and cool at the same time. Another interesting sight in Rhodesia is the many large anthills. Many are larger than a building, and the clay is valuable for making bricks and these are often seen covered with cattle grazing, their horns a yard or more from tip to tip. I used to wonder if they were from a wild specie of cattle, but no doubt but what their horns are very useful in guarding off wild dogs and various wild animals. Much could be said about the beauty of the trees. The mahogany is used for making furniture, while the baobab is enormous and beautiful, yet with the many varieties we do not find any the same as our beautiful oaks, poplars, maple etc.
In the midst of nature's beauties we find many clusters of huts making up our African villages. This is home for our African people. These huts are made of poles and dogger, usually low roofs and one door and very dark inside. After rains the smoke can be seen booming through these grass roofs. The mother works hard in her gardens, and often with her baby strapped on her back. She hammers the corn in a mortar into beautiful white meal with the baby bobbing up and down as she hammers away. She can carry an enormous load on her head with the baby on her back. She cooks the food, but her house requires very little of her time unless it is to be daubed or the floor smeared. Many have a number of their front teeth taken out because of a tribal sign, their faces tattooed, and in my visits I have found some with their hair dressed in clay, with shells, tho' only an animal skin for clothing. "We wait for light but behold obscurity; for brightness, but we walk in darkness." Isa. 59: 9.
The men build, hunt and share with the farming. They do the blacksmithing, keeping the hoes in order and the guns repaired. The children follow in the steps of their parents. The little boys carry their spears and calabash and are off to herd the cattle and goats. The little girls can stomp meal with all their strength, and is about the first one to get the baby tied on her back, or a load on her head. They all have a soul that will live forever. They cannot be taught in a day, but it takes line upon line. How much do we care? Paul says, "Yea, so have I strived to preach the Gospel, not where Christ was named." Romans 15: 20.
I have tried to think of all the early missionaries had to go through, for had they not have braved the storms we would not have the open door that we have today. I was deeply touched as I viewed the monument of Livingstone, the great Missionary and Explorer with his knapsack and Bible standing looking as it were over the large cataract of falling water, at the Victoria Falls. This great marvel of God's hand-work, beautiful beyond description with nature's beauties, palm-trees, ferns, maidenhair and numerous ever-greens and water spray sparkling in the sun forming a rainbow in the most gorgeous colors.
One naturally wonders back to the time when this tired, worn missionary made his way through this dark land of swamps, lion infested districts, fever and diseases, and many other lurking dangers. I am glad to be one of those that he told the Africans would be following. I have read where Dr. Bacchus, president of the Hamilton College was dying, and when the nurse told him that he had only a half of an hour to live, that he replied, "Then take me out of bed and place me on my knees. Let me spend that time calling on God for the salvation of the world." He had the vision. Do we?
EDUCATION A NECESSITY
My first work in Africa was in the Choma Compound School. How I did enjoy this work with the children! One has a wonderful opportunity in the schoolroom, with the young under daily Christian influence. You no doubt have heard it said, and thought it yourself that missionaries are sent to preach the Gospel, and not to Educate. Indeed there is a happy medium to most everything. I might have made the same remark before I came to Africa. After almost 18 years of experience I am of the opinion that next to Salvation the need is Education. Ignorance is no incentive to Salvation. The Educationalists are doing a great work, I believe we are right in co-operating with the Government in this great task and this we have tried to do. Illiteracy must be abolished is thought by most well thinking people. Yet, one cannot give this work all of their time any more than they can give the Medical work which is also another great need.
The female side of the race is much lower among practically all lines in Northern Rhodesia. The timid little mothers and girls bow to the men and humbly respect them as their superiors. The men and boys are eager to learn, so while the women and girls are left in the back, they press forward. In a late Missionary Conference the question was up as how to bridge this gap, which was seemingly being widened by pushing the men and boys forward and leaving the women and girls behind. One wittingly suggested that it would be well to stop education for five years for the men and put forth our efforts on the women and girls, to bridge the gap.
One has said, "They are bright people. They are not our inferior but have never had our chance. They have never had Christ. They are where our ancestors were in Europe before Christ came to them." We feel that they have been long neglected and count it a privilege to have a little part in this great task of helping to obliterate illiteracy in this, what has been said to be, "the open sore for the world."
We have a wonderful opportunity in teaching the word of God, good spiritual hymns, and to have he young under daily Christian influence means much in molding their daily lives. In the geography class the child will learn how the rains are sent from the heavens and not brought about by drumming and dancing, as he has been taught from his childhood days. In hygiene he learns cleanliness and that sickness is often brought about by dirt and germs, wherein he had always thought it was caused by witchcraft or other superstitious ideas. Mental development in arithmetic and all other subjects only broadens their thinking ability, and they are better prepared for the study of God's word. Naturally some drift from the right way, but we are to sow the Gospel seed. God will take care of His Word.
In Mission Schools they are taught along many lines. We will take, for instance, the class in hand-work. Imagine a little girl that never had a pair of scissors in her hands, and she has never cut paper dolls and doll dresses, but her young life has been spent hammering meal, carrying wood on her head, or a baby on her back. She often listens to conversations that you would not want your little daughter to listen to one time. She has great difficulty, it is true, trying to cut out a picture. Her hands are not trained to scissors, but she learns to use the scissors and to use the needle. She is taught sewing. If a scrap of goods can be found she is often taught to make a little garment, which is sometimes given to her at the end of her task, or perhaps she will do some work to pay for it. She is taught how to weave mats out of grass and sisal and with a little coloring from bark she has a mat. She has perhaps been trained to make thread with which it has been sewed. Then there is basketry, and clay modeling and some pots are often burnt, and used to cook the food. Africans are children of nature.
The boys and girls are the men and women of tomorrow. Can we afford to have them run in the forest herding goats and cattle, with a little sling killing the birds, robbing their nest, half clad, ignorant and unlearned? No, they must be taught the better ways and higher morals. Who knows just who God wants to use? I caught these words from a report in the Missionary Conference, "When the Lord wants something done a baby is born into the world." Who knows the possibilities which lie in the heart and life of a child? We are reminded that Sammie Morris, Khama, Dr. Aggery, Dr. Carver, Mandy Smith and Booker T. Washington were all black children once upon a time. God has something more for the children of Africa, than they have had in the past. Children are children the world around, black or white. Little Henry mastered his first letter "O" in the sand and quickly slapped his little hand over it that no other eye could see but mine.
I wish you could get a glimpse of the schoolboys and girls in their uniforms taking their physical exercises, and have a walk over the schoolyard having to find your way to keep from walking on a child's lesson written in the sand. Again to see how diligently the more advanced ones are working on slates and exercise books and get a glimpse of the noble African teachers patiently dealing with their own. I believe you would agree with me that schools are a necessity. When a child enters the school you can usually find him in Sunday School, but if a raw village child comes you will likely look into a bland face.
AFRICAN FATHERS AND MOTHERS
My book would be incomplete without a chapter given to the aged of Africa. Not only the fathers and mothers, but the grandfathers and grandmothers. They are noble in many respects and interesting to talk to. They often tell us that their day is past, and tell us to teach their children the good way. I have known one who refused prayer, but always glad for us to pray for them. We always tried to tell them Jesus died for them just the same as He did for their children.
They have long been bound by habits of sin, polygamy, superstition, spirit-worship etc. The long night of darkness has left its mark, but thank the Lord a new day is dawning! If asked if they want God, they often reply, "Now who is it that does not want God?" But let us look at their entanglement, for in this day of the passing of polygamy, with their wives and different families of children they began to wonder. Then most, if not all, of their sickness and deaths they attribute to having been bewitched by some one, and if they fail to carry out their heathen customs when one dies, then some evil they think is going to befall another member of the family. It seems they live in fear. We mention the beer, and they reply, "It is our food and how can we stop it?" You can well see that it takes God to deliver them.
One of our head men from a near village is an earnest Christian. It is certainly encouraging to hear his clear testimony. He is quite sure that he has left his all for Jesus. He visits the mission quite often and often prays for us before he leaves. He is getting quite feeble and will not be with us much longer, but he is ready to go.
I shall mention some who have gone on before. Siacoona, another head man, came to the mission as long as he was able to get here. He went to the altar of prayer and I could hear him trying to pray. His steps became very feeble but he still made his way to us. I would often make him a cup of tea or give him a bit of sugar to lick from his hand. When he became too feeble to find his way, I would take him a bit of sugar. He leaves some noble Christian children.
Mukoke, another old man, would often send me a bottle of milk, or bring a gourd with a few tomatoes, eggs or some other small gift. He begged to spend his last days near the mission. Another old father visits us quite often, perhaps with a little gift from his garden, or sweet stalks for the children. In talking to him about heaven one day he thinks it would be good if we could all go at one time, but this dying one at a time, he does not like.
I was visiting a village one day and while talking to a band of old folks trying to get their minds on God and heaven the question arose about an earthquake in years gone by and how they had experienced the shock. They laughed very heartily and told me how they fell on their knees much terrified and clapped their hands together calling on God to appease His wrath. Therefore I tried to tell them how it would be when Jesus comes. I have had and still have many warm friends among the aged.
We had some visitors one time that had just recently visited the diamond mines in the South. They spoke of having gone down a long distance in a shaft in the darkness and was privileged to hold for a short time a very valuable diamond that had just been found. I am of the opinion that if we are willing to go down and venture into these dark huts in Africa that we will find diamonds of far more value than the one our friends spoke of. We will find those that will shine as gems in the Master's crown. Oh, that we were awakened to the fact that each one has a soul that will live forever! Brave old fathers and mothers who are many, I have mentioned only a few. One Christian young man refused to sing the old hymn, "Faith of our Fathers, Holy Faith," remembering the darkness of his fore fathers.
GOD'S PROTECTING HAND
"Many of the afflictions of the righteous; but the Lord delivereth him out of them all." Psa. 34: 19.
During the years spent in Africa, as a whole, I believe I have had better health than in my own country. Of course it has only been God who has cared for me all these years in such trying climate, under this tropical sun. When I first came to the field I was subject to sudden attacks of malaria. Perhaps in returning from school, or a village trip, I would suddenly be grasped with chills and fever. I remember of one night after speaking in a village meeting taking so suddenly ill that I wondered if I might die. I had a real battle away back in the tsetse fly district with only my African helpers. Much of the land lay low and swampy, and the mosquitoes were numerous. I staggered under fever for nearly six weeks, slightly recovering from one attack till I would go down with another. I remember, though with a dazed mind, of praying to God to heal me, promising that I would go out and carry the Gospel to the perishing around me. He touched me and I got up, but it was not till I was trying to preach that He touched my dazed mind and I could think clearly.
Our mission station at that time was about fifty miles from the nearest railroad station, and about a hundred miles from my missionary friends. Here the lions roared, and the monkeys and baboons played in bands. Guinea fowls and wild hogs were often seen. During the dry season the water sometimes practically finished except a spring of mineral water, which came out of the earth boiling hot. The spring was down near some beautiful tall bottle palm trees. Across the way, not very far, was a mountain where we were told a female lion kept her cubs hid.
When the time came for me to go back to the peep of day I made the long trip through the tsetse fly district on foot, as it was about the only way we had to travel. The tsetse flies are death to cattle, and even the two donkeys were taken in, died. The sun was beaming down as we made the long journey over the hills and through long stretches of forest and flays, with not even an African village to be seen. Herds of large animals often seen, and the stinging bites of the numerous little tsetse flies, annoying. Sometimes we would see a little bed, or resting place, made of poles in a very tall tree, where no doubt tired travelers rested their heads. He who said, "As thy days, so shall thy strength be." Deut. 33: 25 just added the needed strength for the long journey, as He did the many trips we made back and forth.
It was in June 1935 that I took suddenly ill as I was visiting village schools. It was on Sunday morning that I arose from my knees praying over my morning message, that I became awakened to the fact that I was a very sick person. I was in a little hut a short distance from the school building, where I could hear the people praying for me as they gathered. I was alone this time with my African helpers. Sarea was a dependable girl who had helped me for some time previous. She faithfully stood by me. Dixon and Martha were inclined to cry. I got better and thought to proceed on my journey when I took worse than before. I longed that night for the dawn of the day. Early the next morning I managed to scribble a few lines, and started a boy on a bicycle, telling him if it went bad to lay it by the roadside and go on with the note. The trip was about seventeen miles, I am told, so I told Miss Simpson to get a truck and get to me as quickly as possible. I grew worse as the hours went by. I thought I was going to heaven before she reached me. I called for Ben, he was the teacher of the school, a noble big African boy. I said to him, "Ben I believe I am going to die." He replied, "I am sorry." I asked him to tell Miss Simpson goodbye, and had him promise to go preach to the people in that section. He called the school children and they started singing,
"Izhina ndibotu, Izhina dia Jesu."
"Precious Name, oh how sweet"
I felt very calm and peaceable and wondered if I was going to heaven from that little African hut. When they finished they started again,
"Nda pumpa u ta kunjita,
Muyhuni wangu;
O bamwi Wa be telele
Telele ame."
"Pass me not, O gentle Saviour,
Hear my humble cry;
While on others Thou art calling
Do not pass me by."
I called for my Bible, it was opened and held before my face, and I caught the words, "The people which sat in darkness saw a great light; and to them which sat in the shadows of death light is sprung up." Matt. 4: 16.
Sarea was afraid the promise was not a good one as she perhaps misunderstood the English, and likely caught the word "death" but they all seemed greatly concerned about that scripture verse. I could soon hear the truck plowing its way through the veldt, but the noise just seemed to add to my weakened condition. Miss Simpson was soon found at my side with the Doctor's stretcher, blankets, pillows, food etc. I felt too weak for the truck, so early the next morning I was placed on the stretcher and loaded on the shoulders of our brave African men, with Miss Simpson, Sarea and the other carriers at my side facing the long journey.
The journey seemed too long. I became restless. I begged to know where we were on the way only to be told by my carriers, "Twa sika kale," (we have already arrived.) while on they would go. We arrived at Choma. I was then taken to the Lusaka Hospital. It was a new building, and the doctors and nurses very kind, but I was sorely tried because it seemed I had been unable to trust the Lord for my healing, as I had so often done before. I kept my Bible near. A day was set for my operation. I had many praying for me. I felt impressed to get my Bible and very plainly the Lord showed me to turn to the 23 Psalm. I started reading and when I came to the words, "Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for Thou art with me." I did not know if I would awake in this world or in heaven, but I knew God was with me, and I had not a fear. I then took a retrospective view of my life. I thought from my girlhood days I have served my God. I thought of the years I had walked the streets of Cincinnati distributing tracts and "Revivalists." I thought of my feeble efforts as a missionary my few years in Africa, and I wondered what was left for me to do. The sweet little nurse, just shortly out from England, came and got me all ready and then asked if there was anything more that she could do to make me comfortable for the night. I asked if she would be standing over me during my operation, she replied, "Yes." I asked if she would pray for me. She replied, "Yes I will be saying many little prayers." I believe she did. I went to the operating table without a fear. God was with me. He brought me through. I give Him all the glory, for it was not long till I was back attending the Compound services, and teaching the women and girls.
MY CHILDREN
It was in the year of 1940 in September while visiting the Choma hospital that I noticed a man, sitting by a hut, trying to feed a tiny baby with a spoon.
When he noticed me he brought the baby to me and said, "Muluti will you take my baby? "
I said, "I am from the Siachitema section, try elsewhere."
In my heart I wondered if I had done the right thing. I then said, "If I should take her, she would likely die."
He replied, "Takwe indaba." (no matter).
I inquired to find that the mother's body was then in the morgue at the hospital. She had died, I was told, from the results of a burn trying to rescue the other child who had burned to death. The little grass hut had caught fire, and she had evidently taken the little one out side and thrown it down and returned to rescue the other one, and was so badly burnt that she lived only a few days.
I left him with the baby at the hospital and went my way. It was thought by many that we had enough to do without spending our time on these little ones, at that time. Later in the day I found the man on the wayside with the little one, and a letter from the Doctor asking if someone would kindly help this man with this little baby. That was enough, I took the little thing in my arms and brought her home with me, and have never seen a relative to my knowing since. I was unable to find anyone who wanted to care for her so I put her in a big paper box and put it under my wash stand and bottled her myself of nights. She naturally took a bit of my time, as she was sick much of the time.
I began to wonder if Satan might have placed the little one in my keeping to hinder me from the work of the Lord, for it seemed that I should have been in the village trying to help the people, so I became burdened over the matter. Thus I took it to the Lord in earnest prayer. I prayed that in case the enemy had placed the little one in my care to hinder my work for the Lord, I was willing for Him to take her.
Very definitely came the answer, "No, the enemy did not give her to you, she is a gift from God."
I then said, "Lord if she is a gift from God why not heal her and make her a blessing instead of us having to suffer just to look after her."
At this, the Lord healed her. She was soon so lovable that I had no difficulty in securing a nurse girl. I went on with my work, and when I would return from the villages she was ready with a smile to greet me. She was playing about, some time ago while I was preparing my message for Sunday, and I quoted aloud,
"For I know my Redeemer liveth, and that He shall stand in latter day upon the earth: and tho after my skin worms destroy this body, yet in my flesh shall I see God." Job 19: 25, 26.
She looked up and said, "Amebo ndi la Mu bona mamma." (and me I will see Him mamma).
I answered, "See who?"
She replied, "Leza" (God). She is our little Dorthy Nakasakolo, who is now in school. How I do covet her young life for the Master!
Another day I found a man sitting by my door with a little three months old baby boy, and a letter from the doctor. I took him, for what else could I have done? He proved to be another sick baby. I took him to the doctor who only shook his head and gave no hopes.
I then took him to the doctor who had sent him, and he replied, "He is worth trying to save," so for ten weeks straight Bobby was strapped on the back of one of the boys, and sent the 20 miles on a bicycle to the Choma Hospital for his injections.
After a few months rest I sent him to the hospital for 10 more injections, but when he returned he would not put forth an effort to eat or crawl, and the letter from the doctor sounded hopeless. Again we prayed that God would strengthen his little body. Today he is a charming little lad in school. Bobby is in this world because God spared his life.
By post a letter came asking if I would be willing to take a little colored baby girl at the age of nine months, after seeking to know God's will came the words of the little song.
Black and yellow, red and white;
All are precious in his sight.
Jesus loves the little children,
Of the world.
The grandparents who placed little Joan in my care both left this world before she was two years old. They wanted much that she be trained in the Christian way. She is also in school now, and with the two older ones can repeat the 23rd. Psalm in English.
Another time a man brings a little boy quite a distance on a bicycle. He was a tiny little fellow only two months old, said the father, but in very good health. One day later he became very ill. I had had a very heavy day, when the nurse brought him to me limp in her arms. I took him and sat down and started singing:
I think when I read that sweet story of old,
When Jesus was here among me;
How He gathered the children as lambs to his fold,
I would like to have been with Him then.
I wish that His hand could have been placed on my head,
And His arms could have been thrown around me,
I would liked to have seen the kind look when He said,
Let the little ones come unto Me.
When I sang the song the presence of the Lord became so real, that the little one was tucked away for the night in His care and keeping and I do not recall any farther care regarding his illness. Little Luther is quite a good interpreter now, as he has a fairly good knowledge of English.
Gracie comes next. She and a little twin brother were brought to the mission in a very pitiful condition. The little boy left us about a week later. Gracie can act off little songs and mumble her prayers. Ruth follows next with her little bonnie face. She patters over the yard, and can pat her little hands together when they sing,
I've got the joy, joy, joy
Down in my heart.
Then comes little Inez, just learning to crawl, and Stanley full of activities and temper. The smallest is little Alice White. We never know when others may be brought. Please ask the Lord to keep His big hand over them all, and use them in this ripened harvest field.
