The Bike Era

With bicycles becoming popular in the 1930’s, the hard-working colporteurs pedaled, rain or shine, along stony, muddy roads and tracks in order to reach remote farms and villages in these vast territories. Sister Rosa Gustavsson, equipped with strong faith, a good sense of humor, and a bike, tells about her colporteur work in the 1930’s with her sister-in-law, Mirjam Gustavsson:

“We moved from parish to parish, with all the baggage we could carry strapped onto our bikes​—shoes, clothes, washcloth and toothbrush, pots and pans, and, most important, cartons of books and booklets. What a sight! It was not always easy to find lodging. Often we pleadingly prayed to Jehovah for help. I remember one day, after working in service separately all day, Mirjam and I met each other late in the evening. Together, we cycled in the rain toward a dim light we saw in the distance. It was a farmhouse. We were chilled to the bone. It had been a long, exhausting day. Suddenly, we recognized the house. Our hearts sank into our stomachs. ‘Those people are opposed!’ we exclaimed as we looked at each other. A bit hesitant, Mirjam went timidly to the door and asked for lodging. To our surprise and great relief, the family invited us in. They led us to the best room in the house and served us a delicious meal. Full and satisfied, we left the table and were shown to a bedroom that we were to occupy. Well, we could not believe our eyes. The beds were made up with the best linen, more than we could ever afford!

“The night rolled by with pleasant dreams, and morning came all too soon. However, after breakfast was served, we obligingly offered to pay. But they refused our money. How could we show our appreciation? The book Deliverance would lovingly remind them of how we felt. So we asked, ‘May we give this to you as a token of our appreciation?’ ‘Oh, yes, we want that book!’ they quickly responded. ‘One of our acquaintances told us that you had given her one when you stayed with her, and she just loved it.’ Needless to say, this taught us a lesson. You never know what fruitage will result from a single placement of Bible literature.”

Brother Axel Richardson, short in stature but a spiritual giant, relates: “In 1936 my thin-limbed little wife, Asta, and I were assigned to serve in the vast mountainous western part of the province of Jämtland. The only earthly things we owned at that time were two bikes, a tent, a mattress case, and a suitcase. But we were absolutely determined to cover our territory, not leaving any isolated Lapp camp or mountain farm unvisited. Often we hiked in boots, our feet swollen and painful, with daily provisions and literature on our backs and in our arms, for tens of kilometers a day across the rugged and relentless mountains. Axel recalls an experience on an occasion when his wife did not go with him: “A kind man, a stranger, gave me a lift in his motorboat across a lake. After he left me on the shore, I watched him return to the other side. I looked around. There I was all by myself with my bicycle and a heavy book bag in a totally isolated place. I felt so forlorn. There were only three homes in this entire territory. After visiting them, I was impelled to move on. But how? I had the lake on one side and the steep mountain on the other. There was no choice. With the bike on one shoulder and the book bag on the other, I began to climb the mountain. After several exhausting hours of hiking a toilsome ascent, with a sigh of relief I began the descent on the other side. A man who lived lower down on the slope asked, ‘Where in the world did you come from?’ He stared in amazement as I pointed toward that high mountain. ‘You are the first one to come that way,’ he said, ‘and that on a bicycle!’ I felt happy to have made that effort for the sake of the good news.”

[Pictures on page 143]

All ready for a Sunday of preaching outside Stockholm