“IT WAS a pleasant enough Sunday afternoon, a gentle breeze making it comfortable despite the 90-degree heat [32° C.] and high humidity. The year was 1938. I had only recently arrived in Malaya from Australia and was still getting used to preaching to English and Australian managers in their impressive villas on large rubber estates.

“There were three of us in our pioneer group, and our strategy was for me to go to the manager’s house and for my two partners to slip quietly down to the Indian workers’ huts and preach to them. You see, many of the estate managers did not take kindly to our speaking to their workers, lest any education might stir up dissatisfaction in them.

“We pulled up in the car just across a little river in sight of the manager’s house, and Kurt and Willy immediately made their way down to the workers’ lines. I crossed the river in a small canoe that was tied up there and walked up to the house.

“My main aim was not to be dismissed too quickly, for if I returned to the car and did not drive away fairly soon, the manager would suspect something was wrong.

“I got only as far as the foot of the steps leading up to the house. The manager and his wife were having afternoon tea on the veranda. He watched me approach, large briefcase in hand, and then as I put my foot on the first step, he called out gruffly: ‘Look! Get right back across that river and away! This is Sunday afternoon. I am having afternoon tea with my wife, and I am not here to have any business call.’

“Well, I thought, now I am really in trouble. But I had in my bag a letter of introduction that the Society had given us for just such an occasion, so I said: ‘Excuse me, but I have a letter of introduction here for you to read.’

“‘I don’t want to read it,’ he replied, even more gruffly. ‘And get off that step!’

“Silently I prayed for some way out. I also decided to stall for time, so I said quickly: ‘Really, this is very important.’ At the same time, I moved up one more step.

“This seemed to make him very angry, and now he shouted at me quite loudly: ‘I said, get off the steps!’

“At this point, I was surprised to see his wife suddenly get up from the table and come to stand behind her husband. She put both arms around him, her chin resting on his shoulder. Then she said to me quietly: ‘Won’t you come up and have a cup of tea?’

“He looked at his wife, stunned. The atmosphere was electric. I didn’t know quite where to look. There was a tense silence. Finally, the manager said in a much calmer voice: ‘All right. Come up and have a cup of tea, but don’t open that bag!’

“So we sat down to a delightful cup of tea and cakes. The tension started to thaw, and soon we were having a friendly conversation on light, everyday matters. It was not long before the manager began to discuss world affairs and asked my opinion about the rise of Mussolini in Italy, saying: ‘I wonder what Mussolini was before he entered politics and became dictator of Italy. What kind of profession was he in?’

“At that I said: ‘I think I can tell you,’ and quietly reached into my bag to get the book Enemies. I read what it stated on page 13, that Mussolini had been a bricklayer and political agitator and became a political gang chieftain, leading a march on Rome in 1922, and shortly thereafter became prime minister, or arbitrary ruler. I then put the book back again and closed my bag.

“The manager was obviously impressed. His wife asked: ‘What is that book you read from?’

“‘Oh,’ I said. ‘It’s just a book of many things.’

“But her curiosity was aroused, and she asked if she could have a look at it. Of course, I remembered my being forbidden to open the briefcase, yet here was his wife, with her hand outstretched, asking to see the book. I looked at the manager, and he rather begrudgingly nodded approval. So I handed her the book.

“Soon we had all the books and the Bible I had in my bag out on the table. Finally they wanted all the literature I had with me: seven books, a new Bible, and a subscription for both The Watchtower and Consolation [now Awake!].

“And so, after a cordial three quarters of an hour, he walked to the top of the steps with me, shook hands, and said: ‘Well, I’m sorry you got such a reception, but last Sunday a man came out here trying to sell oil, while I was sitting down to afternoon tea with my wife, and it annoyed me greatly. You got the backwash. But I can assure you that the next one of your people that comes here will get a better welcome than you did.’

“So all ended well. Kurt and Willy had by then finished their preaching in the workers’ huts, and we went on our way, rejoicing at the way Jehovah had blessed our efforts that afternoon.”

This was the kind of experience enjoyed by early missionaries such as Ted Sewell as they worked hard to open up the preaching work in Malaya back in the late 1930’s.a

Ted Sewell and his wife, Isabell. Ted helped to spearhead the good news in the late 1930’s