With his immediate family in Canada and himself in England, Eric now understood better how his old flatmate, Gerald Luxon, had felt as a grass widower. He told the deputation committee to feel free to set up a rigorous travel and speaking schedule for him. While he was a bachelor for the year, he said, they may as well use him as best they could, for the betterment of the mission and to keep his own mind off Florence, Patricia, and Heather.
During his time in England, an obvious visit Eric planned to make was to see D. P. Thomson, who at forty-three had tied the knot for the first time. As a wedding gift, Eric gave them a watercolor painting created by Li Hsin Sheng, a man in Siaochang whose life Eric had saved. After presenting D. P. and his wife, Mary, with the gift, he shared how he had come to purchase it.
Months earlier, while transporting an ill Chinese man to the hospital in Siaochang via mule and cart, Eric heard of another man in nearby Pang Chuang who was barely clinging to life. Although by any standards it was a dangerous mission to try to rescue the second man, Eric felt compelled to try nonetheless.
Eric found the man with a deep gash in his neck. He and five others had been taken out by the Japanese and then forced to kneel in the dirt. Using a saber, a Japanese officer beheaded each victim. But the sixth man—the man who had painted the wedding gift Eric now offered to D. P. and his bride—had somehow survived for several days, lying in a temple.
Eric found the man, then managed to get him into the cart with his other wounded passenger. Painstakingly, he carried the two over a nearly twenty-mile journey of bumpy roads and fields to the hospital in Siaochang.
The first man died. But when the second man recovered, he became a Christian and, soon thereafter, painted a peony rose with a Chinese caption that read, “The peony rose is the most beautiful in China. Her modesty and manner come from God.”
Eric had the painting copied to lithographs, brought several with him to England, and gifted one to the Thomsons.
The story of the painting’s origin hit its mark with D. P. Soon preachers and speakers told the story of the work from pulpits all over Scotland. Copies of the lithograph were recreated and sold, the money going to the LMS work in China.
Eric made his deputation rounds throughout the region, speaking in churches, schools, town halls, and rotary clubs.
A popular Congregationalist minister who had gone to a few of Eric’s speaking engagements captured the mood in a later written report, saying,
There is one characteristic of Mr. Liddell, which impressed me very deeply on the two or three occasions of my meeting him. . . . I well remember the address he gave at “Swanwick-At-Home” in Manchester, which I chaired, during his last furlough. It was just a simple portrait gallery, in words, of some of his Chinese friends and contacts. The audience, at first, was obviously puzzled by its extreme simplicity, for it was the first time most of them had heard this famous Eric Liddell, and they had come expecting rhetorical fireworks. But as the address proceeded, the audience became profoundly attentive. Those Chinese were with the speaker in the room.
This simplicity of his was, in truth, that rare gift of the childlike spirit which the Kingdom consists, and before the address ended, the audience was aware of it. As I remember it, Eric did not say a great deal about the more adventurous side of life in Siaochang, but rather spoke as though Japanese armies, Chinese armies (whether Government or Communist), and bandits, were the normal background of the day’s work.[66]
Eric gave another talk in which he spoke effortlessly of invading soldiers, threats on the roadways, and the starvation of countless Chinese. His method of delivery and calmness of voice gave the impression that—despite the topic—all was well in Siaochang. Only later did another report reveal to those who’d heard Eric’s speech the truth behind the difficulties he and the other missionaries had endured.
Eric’s God-centered spirit had been the calm of the mission work’s everyday storm, and he insisted that all people—whether Japanese or Chinese or British—be treated not as Japanese or Chinese or British, but as God’s children.
Near the end of February 1940, with the United States naval presence aiding in perceived protection, people began to regard the Atlantic as safer than previously suspected. With this news, Florence—missing her husband more than she could bear—begged Eric to let her and the girls cross over to be with him. At the same time, the LMS informed Eric they wanted him to stay in England longer than previously expected. This meant he would not see his family for an extended period and that Florence would soon have to decide about her lodging.
After much consideration and prayer, Florence and Eric determined it was high time the girls came to Scotland.
In March, Florence and the girls crossed the Atlantic without episode in a ship nearly without passengers. When Patricia and Heather pressed her with questions about the oddness of it all, Florence simply stated, “God is in control; everything will be fine.”
Because Eric was speaking in Ireland when they docked in Liverpool, Florence, Patricia, and Heather maneuvered their own way from the dock to the train station. A serious accident occurred during the train ride from England to Edinburgh. Even though dozens of passengers were injured, Eric’s family survived with only a few bruises.
Ria Liddell and Charlie Somerville met Florence and their nieces at Waverley Station, then drove them to Mary Liddell’s home, where they waited a few more days for Eric to
