Why I Read

I was asked once, why I read so much. This is the answer I gave. It remains true. ______________ I read because I'm hungry, because I need nourishment, because I want to grow. I choose a very wide range of books to provide a well-balanced diet, to feed all dimensions of my soul. I read every kind of literature, except junk; there is a lot out there. Sometimes I read because it's easier to read than to do; sometimes I find it's easier to do because I have read. Unquestionably, I know myself more completely, understand the gospel more profoundly, and appreciate you more fully because I read. I love God more, enjoy life more, and love you more because I read. Reading expands my world and enriches my life.

Taipei 1995

Summer, 1995

World Vision of Taiwan assembled us, Jirka from Prague, Job from Singapore, me from Texas, and highschool graduates from fifty nations. Jerry Chang assembled us, charged us to seek Universal Life Values and ways to promote them. For two months in Taiwan I led workshops, Jirka rehearsed them for the concert stage, and Job kept it all together. For another month we toured Southeast Asia, dialoguing and singing values, and forming a new, worldwide community.

I remember that summer. I was sixty-one, and had never traveled

Four months in the Far East surprised me.

1.

I remember I fell in love with the Chinese people.

I felt at home, comfortable,

walked city streets and alleys alone

before daylight and long after dark, unafraid.

I remember they were so ordinary--

mothers taking children to school,

Yuppies rushing to work,

old men in unwashed tee-shirts.

No inscrutable mystery,

mere human beings of different tone and culture.

I remember the variety of the Chinese.

Young lady in Taipei,

clearly Chinese, but taller than I

she strode by, wearing faded blue overalls.

I found faces varied as Americans,

and distinguished a dozen shades of black hair.

I remember they dressed

with more diversity

than Dallas does.

High fashion and hippie,

Asian and American,

school uniforms,

all on same sidewalk.

I remember the colors they wore,

muted hues.

Beige, mauve, taupe, tinted grays,

and everywhere pale grayed jade.

I remember the food.

Asia deports bad cooks.

I=m sure of it.

Unexceptional variety and excellence

followed me all the days of summer.

2.

I remember--before they came--

we stayed at the Empress Hotel.

The China Post under the door by 6:00 a.m.

I ordered Chinese breakfast,

almost every day.

Fish soup, steamed turnips, strange bits of pickles,

egg over easy, rice,

a plate of crispy little fishes

the size of a kitchen match--

one big eye shining--

chopsticks, and Oolong tea.

I remember we stayed three weeks in the Academia Sinica,

east edge of Taipei,

earthquake the first hour,

5.1 they said.

Small Chinese farms outside my fourth-floor window,

roosters before daylight,

a later earthquake

shook me from sleep

middle of the night.

I remember two weeks at the New Jade Valley

Resort and Convention Center.

Cook=s pride, his breads.

He made deliberate leftovers,

snacks for sixty all day long.

From our rooms

to lecture and rehearsal hall

one hundred steps

up and down

steep mountainside.

I remember in Manila

the Gilarmi Apartments.

Much older, darker,

with hint of dirt.

Guards at the entryway

held shotguns at ready,

smiled and greeted us always.

Thailand=s boast:

Athe land of smiles,@

but Bangkok revealed the rudest

people of the summer.

Manila was the city of smiles,

even from armed guards.

I remember that clearly.

I remember the Arcadia Hotel in Indonesia.

Fire extinguisher message,

in English, directed us:

AIn case of fire, light the extinguisher.@

I remember I was the only one

provided a private room wherever we went.

Asia honors old teachers.

3.

I remember we filled two buses

with hours of laughter, stories, and sleep.

We lived on the bus.

I remember with tight schedules

we often ate on the bus,

fast food--exotic Asia.

Macdonald=s, the staple food of Asia?

I remember Bangkok, world=s worst traffic,

we rode to a school at 5:00 a.m.

in an easy thirty minutes.

The 3:00 p.m. return took four hours.

Creep forty yards, then stop ten minutes.

Plenty of time to savor the city

and afternoon street life.

I remember the night in Manila,

On the buss after concert, Georges

commandeered microphone, and

impersonated the staff.

We laughed, Piedad uncontrollably.

He began to imitate me, but not long.

Later I learned someone pointed to the front, and whispered,

AHe=s on this bus.@

I remember the night Nahed,

sixteen year-old Palestinian

girl, sat with me as we crossed Seoul

on Hyundai bus.

She was our youngest, yet

mature, intelligent, and intense,

but so uneasy.

APlain, ordinary little Palestinian girl,@ she cried.

ANo, Nahed, not at all.

You think, care, and speak with head and heart.

You one day will lead@

I remember we rode from Bangkok south

three hours to the Burma border,

returned later in the day.

I lay in the back seat, both trips, flat on my back,

sick, Adon=t move,@ eyes covered, nausea.

I remember that ride.

4.

I remember we went to the largest church

in the world--

seven or eight hundred thousand members--

Seoul, Korea.

Six cellos in the orchestra,

at least six choices of language

to select on the headphones, .

They fed hundreds a good meal.

That=s my main memory.

I remember the next Sunday,

little Baptist church

I attended alone,

entire service in Chinese,

God=s love warmly shared.

I remember Fram Jihanger introduced me

in huge warehouse auditorium in Jakarta

where a charismatic group expanded.

Crudely groomed young American pastor,

offensive style--

and the Spirit spoke

to me, clearly,

in a known tongue.

I remember often we held our own services.

I found contemporary Christian music

universal among the young.

5.

I remember drinking java in Jakarta one evening.

Live music, three Chinese cowboys wailed,

ABlue moon of Kentucky, keep on shining.@

Exotic Java.

I remember on the Burma border

our project in small Thai village.

The colonel who commanded the Thai Border Patrol

listened to our songs,

smiled, clapped,

and asked permission to sing

ADanny Boy.@

Exotic Thailand.

I remember Hong Kong, our whole group singing,

AI can=t help falling in love with you.@

Shalom caught my eye,

crossed the room, and took my hands.

Others evaporated while old man

and Zimbabwean granddaughter sang,

ATake my heart,

take my whole life through, but I can=t help . . . .@

I remember that.

I remember haunting mezzo-soprano,

acapella, singing,

AGo and leave me if you wish to.@

Deirdre, County Limerick,

left us four days later.

An Irish mother in critical condition

needed a daughter.

And she sang as she walked away.

The lady had class.

I remember Tshepo Ntsala--bass--

so slowly intoning, APraise, praise,

praise the Lord.

Praise God=s holy name, hallelujah,@

while Lindirabe, Shalom, Marlene,

and Ndondo danced.

Alfred, Baffoe, Sebilu, and Isaya joined them.

Tempo picked up,

high-pitched African warbles punctuated Tshepo=s praise,

overtook it, and suddenly introduced

ecstasy to the entire assembly.

I remember two weeks at the Taipei Fortuna Hotel.

Piano player in lobby late at night

played Aour@ song--

mine and Carol=s from forty-five years ago--

AThey tried to tell us we=re too young.@

I remember Mitcy and Felipe arrived two days late,

as we rehearsed APraise, praise, . . . .@

When they entered our practice hall, the forty-eight

began a march, encircling them,

continuing to smile and sing,

APraise God=s holy name, hallelujah.@

Although late arrivals,

they felt our love and acceptance.

I remember we flew Singapore Airlines

serenaded passengers and crew with,

ASingapura, oh Singapura, pretty island set in the sea.@

I remember we sang all summer--

on concert stage, in buses,

hotel hallways, hospitals,

and in prison:

ALove in any language,

straight from the heart.@

Our signature.

6.

I remember time alone, not often.

Alone in seven of

the world=s most densely populated cities.

I remember one evening, alone in a restaurant,

I wanted fish,

So I took pencil and paper,

and drew its picture--

best fish ever I tasted.

I remember one night in China,

in a Burmese restaurant,

I chose Vietnamese rice.

I remember in Hong Kong mall,

I looked down and read the label

on my can of geranium tea,

looked up

and the group was gone.

Alone in a sea of Chinese figures,

I was lost, near panic

for two minutes of eternity,

and then I saw Jules.

I remember brisk autumnal drizzle as

I walked Korean park.

Japanese Red Maples turning color.

I relaxed.

Rare opportunity

I sat and wrote in journal..

And I remembered Carol,

and I remembered I had a return ticket to Texas.

I boarded China Airlines

and came home.