It was a stunning blow and I still can hardly believe it, but I have been very conscious of the prayers and thoughts of countless friends over in England and Scotland and here too.
My first reaction was, “That is why he has been so near me lately.” I have dreamt more about Eric in the last few weeks than I have all the rest of the time I have been home. Every time (in the dreams) he was here we were all terribly happy and everything was so vivid. My reaction was “That is just wishful thinking getting the better of you.”
Then in making plans for the summer and autumn I seemed to come up against a stone wall. Plans that seemed excellent at first seemed to get blocked. I don’t know when I have been so conscious of a restraining hand and I simply couldn’t understand it. I felt sure there was going to be some change in plans but I couldn’t see what.
The thought flashed into my mind, “Could it be that Eric is really coming home and we may have to go over to England to meet him? No that’s wishful thinking again.” Never once did I have any premonition of this and even after I knew I was so vividly conscious of Eric being happy. I could just see his sunny smile and twinkling eyes.
It has been a strange and wonderful experience. At times I have been numbed and overwhelmed by a sense of unreality—of pain—of fear for the future and then there has come welling up from within that power of faith which has carried me through. My faith has been wonderfully strengthened. In looking back I have so much to be thankful for. God has provided so wonderfully—we have been so happy and I know that He is working out his purpose and that good can come out of even this.
I have been overwhelmed by the kindness and thoughtfulness of my own immediate family—relations, friends, China friends, and people I don’t even know.
My heart aches for Jenny, Rob, and Ernest. I wish they could have been at the Memorial Service that we had last Saturday. Beautiful, sincere tributes were paid to Eric by Mr. King who was repatriated from Weihsien and by Mr. Faichney who was the Minister in Union Church, Tientsin, for five years and was a great friend of ours.
I have just been hearing today of tributes paid to Eric’s memory in several of the churches here on Sunday.
Please forgive me for rambling on like this. I have never had the pleasure of meeting you but I always remember how highly Eric spoke of you and how he enjoyed his visit in your home in June ’40 while on deputation in the South of England.
I just wanted you and the other friends to know that I have been very conscious of your prayers and sympathies but you must not grieve for us.
I feel that Eric and I had as much happiness in our few short years together as many couples have in a whole lifetime and I thank God for the privilege of being Eric’s wife.
I only hope that the children (they have been perfectly sweet and such a comfort to me) will take after Eric and follow in their Master’s Footsteps.
Yours sincerely,
Florence Liddell[116]
By autumn of 1945—mere months after Eric’s fellow prisoners at Weihsien had been liberated by American allies—Florence had begun to move confidently in Christ, following in her “Master’s Footsteps.” Eric’s life insurance policies and his LMS pensions had been sorted out. Florence set her eyes toward nursing again, determined to be the best mother she could be for her and Eric’s three daughters.
At that time, when multitudes of women in North America were busy greeting their husbands, now home from the war, Florence received one last envelope from the Canadian Red Cross Society. A chill came over her as she gathered the strength to open it. She knew it would most likely be the last communiqué she would receive from her beloved Eric.
Her intuition was correct.
Dear Mrs. Liddell,
We are enclosing three Red Cross messages, which have just been received in this office.
We felt sure that you would want to have these messages in spite of the distress they would cause you.
Yours sincerely,
Miss M. E. Breckenridge[117]
Enclosed were Eric’s final three communications to Florence. Trembling, she found her favorite chair, then sat to examine them.
AUGUST 24TH, 1944
Large airy room with eleven others. Healthy, enjoying some reading. Constantly remember and picture you all. Dearest love to all, everything sufficient. Longing for you, love.
Eric.[118]
Florence placed the first one to the side, then opened the second.
AUGUST 27TH, 1944
I have received some of your letters and have news up to January. The hot summer is over, we are enjoying the cooler autumn already. I constantly picture you all. This may reach you at or near the anniversary of your father’s death. You will know that my thoughts and prayers will be with you—and especially with Mother. Give her my special love. I see Tricia, cycling, swimming and skating, and Heather following fast in her footsteps. I wish I could hear them read to me! Maureen,—I long to see her—She looks fine in the snaps. I long for you Dearest—and the time when we shall start a home together again. May it be soon!
Love, Eric.[119]
Then, finally, she began to read the post Eric had painstakingly managed to get to her the day he passed from life to glory.
FEBRUARY 21ST, 1945
Was carrying too much responsibility. Slight nervous breakdown. Am much better after month’s rest in hospital. Doctor suggests changing my work. Giving up teaching and athletics and taking on physical work like baking. A good change. So glad to get your letter of July. Mrs. Longman is much better. Bear and
