Then, in 1958 another good thing occurred: We were invited to serve in the circuit work.

At that time, there were only two small circuits in the entire country. So in addition to visiting congregations, we spent many weeks during the year preaching in small Indian towns where no Witnesses were living. Accommodations in those pueblos usually consisted of a tiny, windowless room with a bed and nothing else. We carried with us a wooden case that contained a kerosene burner, a pan, plates, a wash basin, sheets, a mosquito net, clothing, old newspapers, and some other items. We used the newspapers to plug the holes in the walls so that the rats would find it a bit harder to enter.

Although those rooms were dark and dingy, we have bright memories of the nightly conversations we had while sitting on the bed, eating a simple meal cooked on our kerosene burner. Since my impetuous nature often led me to speak before thinking, my wife at times would use those calm moments to mention tactful ways that I could better express myself to the brothers we visited. I listened to her, and my visits became more encouraging. Also, when I thoughtlessly spoke ill of another, she would refuse to participate in the conversation. I thus learned to maintain a positive view of my brothers. Mostly, though, our conversations at night revolved around points we learned from articles in The Watchtower and our field service experiences of that day. And what exciting experiences we had!

How We Found Carlos

In the town of Jipijapa, in western Ecuador, we were given the name of an interested person​—just the name, Carlos Mejía, but no address. Leaving our rented room that morning, we did not know where to begin looking for him, so we simply struck out in a random direction. We had to dodge many a mud hole on the dirt streets because of the heavy rains the night before. I was walking ahead of my wife when, suddenly, I heard a cry of distress from behind, “Art!” I turned and saw that Edie was standing in black mud up to her knees. The scene was so humorous that I would have laughed had it not been for her tearful face.

I was able to pull her out of that mess, but her shoes remained stuck in the mud. A boy and a girl were watching, so I told them, “I will give you some money if you get those shoes out of the mud.” In a flash, the shoes were retrieved, but Edie needed a place to clean up. The children’s mother was observing the scene and invited us into her house, where she helped my wife wash her legs while the children cleaned the dirty shoes. Before we left, a good thing happened. I asked the woman if she knew where we could find a man named Carlos Mejía. With a surprised look on her face, she said, “He is my husband.” In time a Bible study was started, and all the members of that family were eventually baptized. Years later, Carlos, his wife, and two of their children became special pioneers.

Challenging Travels​—Heartwarming Hospitality

Traveling in the circuit work posed challenges. We used buses, trains, trucks, dugout canoes, and small airplanes. One time John McLenachan, who served as the district overseer, and his wife, Dorothy, accompanied us on a preaching trip to fishing villages near the Colombian border. We traveled in a dugout canoe equipped with an outboard motor. Sharks as large as the canoe were swimming right alongside us! Even the experienced navigator with us became alarmed at the size of the sharks and quickly steered the canoe closer to shore.

The challenges that we encountered in the circuit work, though, were more than worthwhile. We got to know wonderful, hospitable brothers. Many times the families with whom we stayed insisted that we eat three meals a day, while they ate only one. Or they made us sleep in the only bed in the house, while they slept on the floor. My wife often said, “These dear brothers and sisters help me to see how few things we really need to get by.”

In the early 1970’s, my health had improved and we resumed the circuit work. The city of Ibarra was part of our circuit. When we visited that city in the late 1950’s, only two Witnesses were there, a missionary and a local brother. So we were eager to meet the many new ones who had been added to the congregation.

At our first meeting there, Brother Rodrigo Vaca stood on the platform and conducted a part that included audience participation. Whenever he asked a question, those in attendance called out “Yo, yo!” (“Me, me!”) instead of raising their hands. Edith and I looked at each other in amazement. ‘What is going on here?’ I thought. Later we learned that Brother Vaca is blind but he recognizes the voices of the members of the congregation as they call out. He is a shepherd who really knows his sheep! This called to mind Jesus’ comments at John 10:3, 4, 14 about the Fine Shepherd and the sheep knowing one another very well. Today, Ibarra has six Spanish-speaking congregations, one Quichua-speaking congregation, and one sign-language congregation. Brother Vaca continues to serve faithfully as an elder and a special pioneer.a

[Picture on page 31]

Visiting a Witness family while in the circuit work, 1959