Finding the Light in China
Reflections of the Soul
by Gary and Karen Henderson

When my wife and I received our "call" to teach English at a university in Jinan, we were overwhelmed with the responsibility. Though we were never to discuss our religion, I was quickly reminded that everyone is born with the light of Christ--even college students in far-off China.

Our call to teach was not a missionary call from the prophet, but had come directly from Shandong Teachers University. It followed a similar process, however. We filled out applications and were sent to the David M. Kennedy Center at Brigham Young University, which then sent them to the Chinese University. The Church is not allowed to have proselyting missionaries in mainland China, but the Chinese universities seek as many English teachers as they can get through BYU. Seventy were in our 2002-2003 group. This number of people gives the church and America a positive influence in China.

When we arrived, we were stunned by the number of people in the streets. Jinan is a rather small city by Chinese standards with only 6.5 million people. The university was also surprisingly beautiful and the people were so very kind and helpful. Karen learned that she would be teaching four classes of sophomores in the tourism department and two night classes of adults who were seeking to improve their English. My assignment was to teach two classes of master’s degree candidates, two classes of doctorate degree candidates, and a weekly seminar for the English department professors.

The university did not provide books or class materials. The Kennedy Center had prepared us well for this, but we were afraid that maybe we were in over our heads as neither of us had taught school at any level. Karen had taught early morning seminary and we had both taught in our church callings, but we had done nothing like what was before us now.

As we spent a few days adjusting to our jet lag and exploring our city and environment, our thoughts were constantly on the task ahead. I wasn’t sure how to start. Although this was oral English and we had been reminded that we didn’t have to worry about grammar rules, I still struggled with how to begin. I thought to myself, “If these are graduate students I can’t just sugarcoat it, but I must try and push them to their very limits. “ After much prayer and meditation, my mind and heart were focused on what to do.

While we were never to discuss our religion, I was reminded that we are all born into this world with the light of Christ and that this light can continue with us all of our lives, even in China. I discovered again what it is like to be led by the Spirit and began on a course tat would produce amazing results.

I always carry with me a quote by Hugh B. Brown. It reads, “Sometimes during solitude I hear the truth spoken with clarity and freshness, uncolored and untranslated it speaks from within myself in a language original but inarticulate, heard only with the soul, and I realize I brought it with me, was never taught it nor can I efficiently teach it to another.” (Eternal Quest, Bookcraft, 1956, 435).

First Homework
I began my first class by writing this quotation, which I said was from a famous Canadian, on a paper and passing it out to each student. I explained to them that this was very difficult English to comprehend—even for students at an American university. We repeated and discussed the words and talked about the meaning of the quotation. I then held up my very large journal and said to them, “I commit to you that I will write in my journal about my very innermost feelings regarding China, its people, and especially you, my students. I want you to keep a journal of our classes and do the same.”

To get them started I asked them to write me two or three pages and cover the following points. What was going on in China when you were born? What did your parents think of your birth? What is your family like? Are you happy to be alive?

I further explained that even though I wanted to see how well they wrote English, I would make no corrections to their writings as the real intent of this exercise was to see how well they could connect with their inner selves and write about what was being spoken to them from within. We discussed more about journal writing, about meditation, about the value of searching our own souls, and about listening to what was being spoken to us. They were given a week for the assignment, and I wondered myself if I had actually communicated anything to them.

The next week I was literally inundated with all of their papers, and I was completely surprised by their content. It was a pleasant surprise to read their excellent written English, but it was more gratifying to realize that I had indeed connected with them and that they had connected with their own souls. The following are two of their actual papers, without correction to their English or spelling:

Linda’s Journal
For a long time I have not kept journals. I don’t know how I could kick the habit staying with me for over 15 years. To tell the truth, I had though I would not write down my true feelings again until I left my parents.

I have three brothers and I am the third child and the only girl in my big family. From birth, I lived in a world separated from the rest. I wasn’t allowed to go out to play often, so I had few friends until I went to the university. My father was very strict with us, supervising our life. We four children dare say nothing before him, so it was very quiet in my family, no laughters even at the table. What we did was something about study, such as reading, writing, reciting, etc. When we were young, father taught us some poems written down on the wall as a blackboard, so we can read more often till we can recite them fluently. Moreover, we learned arithmetic and English.

Our classroom was the yard. When a hen wandered by us father would ask, “How many legs does a hen have?” And then “two hens?” “Three hens?” etc. Or, “what is English for hen?” In this way we learned much more knowledge than the other children at the same age. And we four children smoothly were admitted into the universities. Among us, my eldest brother was the most excellent and versatile. He was quick at science and good at art. He was the first prize winner of the National Olympic Competition for Physics and received his doctor’s degree in one of the most prestigious universities and then he went to the U.S.A. for further study in Dartmouth College. Last summer, he presented his thesis at the International Conference held in Rome, Italy.

My eldest brother set a very good example for me, so I studied hard too. I always confined myself to my own room, resulting from my father’s forbidding us to go out at an earlier age. When I was tired after the laborious study, I would write down my thoughts, my feelings in the diary to relax myself, and it really worked! My diary was like an old good friend of mine, always listening to me carefully. No matter what I wrote, bad or good, it was my true feeling, at least at that time.

But one day, I found my journals were read secretly by my parents. They knew all that I thought, even my secrets! I was angry and asked them why. They retorted, “This will do you good. We didn’t know what you thought in your mind because of your always silence. We just care for you.” I was irritated. Without a word, I went back to my room. At the right time, I decided not to keep journals again. And the next morning I took seven heavy diaries to school, burning them to ashes. The paper was blazing, so was my heart.

Now I get another chance to study. Several times I wanted to write something about my feelings, but I managed not to, because I was afraid I couldn’t express my true feelings but cover myself. Perhaps I will go on to keep journals and find my long lost friend. Who knows?

Alice’s Journal
In some sense I was once not a likeable person. Because when I was still in my mother’s body the Chinese government began to carry out the policy of family planning. At that time, my parents had already had two girls, so they were informed of aborting me. This policy is more strict with the members of the Chinese Communist Party. My father had been in this party for ten years until then. But in his deep thought, he was first of all a traditional Chinese peasant, he was so thirsty for a son to end his family. Because in our families the children always use their father’s surname, then only a son can make ones family surname last from this generation to the next.

With this hope, my father violated the principles of his party. But as soon as I was born, I made him so disappointed. I am a girl! And with my first cry, my mother also cried. Thus when I came along, the society and my family were all unhappy.

I was born August 1, 1974. Just as I was not welcome, this year is also not welcome in people’s memory, because China was still in the unprecedented nightmare that is the Great Cultural Revolution. But my parents are very good and kind and they loved their children exceeding all other things. Though I gave them great disappointment, as the youngest child, I still get most care from them.

My hometown was a beautiful village in Shandong Province. In my childhood I had the opportunity to keep very close to nature. At that time, it was such a beautiful village. It was at the foot of a hill and a road stretched out in the west-eat direction, and just down the road there was a clear river with lots of fish swimming in it.

Nowadays, I look back to what I have experienced. I think I was a fortunate person. Though my life began with an unhappy start, I have been the most considerate daughter of my parents, the best student of my teachers, and the favorite teacher of my students. So, I would say I am thankful for this life.

Profound Communication

This was the beginning of a unique and satisfying experience with our students at Shandong Teachers University. We were the first American or foreign English teachers our students had ever had and they responded with enthusiasm to our efforts to help them. We discovered that they do possess light and they do listen to what is spoken in solitude to their souls. We could sense and feel that we had had a tremendous influence in their lives, and after two semesters of teaching we could truly recognize that they all spoke better English. We were able to communicate and share with them at a very profound level – a level they said that they had never before experienced in the classroom.

Home Again
There hasn’t been a week that goes by that doesn’t bring to our minds the wonderful experiences we had in China. Our lives have been changed forever. We find ourselves reminiscing about the sights, sounds, and smells that seem to be so much a part of us now. We would go back in a minute. In fact, many of our companions did return for another year.

So much can be said for the adventuresome “senior souls” who go out to share their lives in service to others wherever they are needed.

One of our students wrote an article that was printed in the newspaper about his experience in taking a class from American teachers. In part he wrote, “The thoughts and emotions conveyed by their words in class often made me fall into deep thought and moved me so much that sometimes I felt tears rolling down my cheeks. Another impression they have me is that they are full of vigor, just like the spirited young people. Once, it was time for class, but they didn’t show up on time as usual. The students were wondering what was the matter when two people with horrible masks on their faces broke into the classroom and started their performance. They were Mr. and Mrs. Henderson. Not until then did it occur to me that Mr. and Mrs. Henderson, who are my parents’ age, are still creating and enjoying all that life bestows, while our parents have become exceptionally sedate and games of this kind have already disappeared in their lives, even in their memories.”

The teacher does always learn more than the student. We will forever be grateful to those gracious, smiling, and applauding students in our classes at a Chinese university.

LDS Living Magazine