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Everyone at home took Mother for granted. To Father she was 24-hour help meet available 365 days a year. To her eight children, she was source of life, comforter and protector in every adversity.
Mother loved husband and children the best she knew how, and served them at the sacrifice of her own comfort and ease. But above all else, Mother loved the Lord, with heart and soul, mind and strength, through all her life.
On March 8, 1946, everybody woke up to her real worth, when she was no more, for God took her. Always strong and well, a picture of health, nobody expected her to die. Her sudden departure struck the family like a thunderbolt. The story of her sickness is left to the last. Meanwhile, allow me to introduce the good lady.
Mother lived a life of faith and love. It was faith in God which saw her through all her life. Orphaned at the tender age of three, she knew only the love of an Elder Sister who brought her up as her own daughter in their simple household. Mother’s faith in God and love for the Saviour flourished from her earliest years: Jesus was her life, her joy, her all. She learnt much from the missionary ladies of the English Presbyterian Mission. They taught her the Word of God and songs of the faith, in her native dialect, Teochew. They also taught her the delicate technique of drawn-work. With this, Mother made linen articles of exquisite beauty, such as handkerchiefs, table-cloths, place mats, and other household articles.
At eleven, she supported herself by selling her handicrafted articles. God had gifted her with skill to use her hands, and the dignity of work to free herself from being a burden to others. Beyond these few facts, Mother’s early life is shrouded in mystery.
Thank God for some after-dinner stories which remain. From Father we learned that theirs was an arranged marriage, the match-making of some wise elders. I guess it would have been Father’s parents. Courtship days were strictly social meetings, a matter of “getting to know each other” sessions. This is how Father described it: “Whenever I got close, she (the bride-to-be), would find some excuse to sit apart. Until our wedding day, she avoided close physical contact. Today’s young people will think, “How strange and old-fashioned. ” Maybe, but how God-honouring too! Godliness and chastity is great virtue, pleasing to the Lord, and so much lacking in this day and age.
Mother revered Father all her life. In her letters she addressed him, “Most respected Mr Keng Kee, ” somewhat like Abraham’s wife Sarah who, according to 1 Peter 3:6 : “... obeyed Abraham calling him lord... ”
Mother’s obedience and submission to Father was absolute: she knew no other way. Her love and devotion to children was total. Behind these virtues was her faith in God and her Saviour Jesus Christ. It was such steadfast faith which sustained her through the turbulent days in China when Father’s involvement in revolutionary politics nearly cost him his life on more than one occasion. Her effectual fervent prayers prevailed with God.
By faith, Mother and Father forsook their homeland for the South Seas, “Nanyang. ” It was faith which enabled Mother to hold the family together through the Great Depression, and faith which persevered until the “licence to practise” was granted in 1932. But before then, her faith was sorely tested. Through many dark days, when food was scarce with no help in sight and there were seven hungry mouths to feed, Mother would pour out her sorrows to the Lord. “Lord, You have saved us from China, our Egypt, will You leave us to starve and perish in Senai? ” God honoured her faith.
Solomon’s description of a virtuous woman is a portrait of Mother:
“Who can find a virtuous woman? for her price is far above rubies. The heart of her husband doth safely trust in her, so that he shall have no need of spoil. She will do him good and not evil all the days of her life... She stretcheth out her hand to the poor; yea, she reacheth forth her hands to the needy... Strength and honour are her clothing; and she shall rejoice in time to come. She openeth her mouth with wisdom; and in her tongue is the law of kindness. She looketh well to the ways of her household, and eateth not the bread of idleness. Her children arise up, and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praiseth her. ” (Proverbs 31:1-28 )
Mother had clear priorities: God, husband, children. Father had absolute trust in her through all their thirty years of married life. Apart from home and Church, Mother had no outside interests. She visited no places of entertainment, made no friends apart from God’s people at Church, and those she was trying to win for the Lord.
Mother stood by Father through thick and thin, “for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, ” till death took her. Father suffered from peptic ulcer, aggravated by recurrent bouts of bleeding. Each time, Mother lovingly nursed him back to health, with Chinese herbal medications, tender loving care and unceasing prayers. To us children, she gave strict orders: “Pray for your Father, that God would heal him. Without Father you children will be beggars! ”
Mother was a tower of strength in prayer. Through every trial and crisis, she sought strength and comfort from God. Like the Psalmist, she would say, “He only is my rock and my salvation... my defence; I shall not be moved. In God is my salvation and my glory: the rock of my strength, and my refuge, is in God” (Ps 62:6,7 ).
One day I unwittingly opened her bedroom door, and there was Mother knelt in prayer, a sight I have never forgotten. It was mid-afternoon, and Mother was closeted at the throne of grace making supplication for family and church. Silently I closed the door and beat a hasty retreat. There and then I learned a precious lesson: not by words but by example, Mother had spoken to my heart. There and then, I resolved to be a person of prayer.
In Batu Pahat Grace Presbyterian Church, Mother organised the Women’s Fellowship and led the Weekly Friday Prayer and Visitation ministry. She sought out the weak and needy members, the sick and infirm, and those in remote villages and rubber plantations.
By prayer and the ministry of the word, Mother would comfort and encourage, exhort and revive, singing the John Sung Choruses which never failed to cheer and uplift the flagging spirits
Despite our own meagre resources, Mother remembered those in want: “She stretcheth out her hand to the poor. ” In her visitations, always took with her an envelope of dollar notes for the relief of the needy.
At home, Mother was an unfailing source of knowledge, with a ready answer to every question.
“She openeth her mouth with wisdom; and in her tongue is the law of kindness. ” Mother’s words were filled with wisdom from above (James 3:17 ), always “pure, peaceable and gentle. ”
Mother was the life of the home, the centre of love and comfort, of peace and joy. “She looketh well to the ways of her household, and eateth not the bread of idleness. ” The last to retire at night and the first to arise in the morning, Mother saw to the wellbeing of the household.
Mother was full of the joy of the Lord. She loved to sing the songs of Zion. She went about her household chores, “with a song on her lips, and a song in her heart. ” Indeed, the joy of the Lord was her strength.
Mother was always gentle, meek, and mild. While Father openly practised favouritism, Mother was absolutely fair and impartial: she treated all eight children alike.
Mother taught me the Bible, the Lord’s Prayer, the Ten Commandments and the “Three Character Classics, ” in Teochew. From my earliest childhood, she sang to me the songs of salvation. One that remained deeply impressed in the memory was the children’s hymn by Philip Bliss, “God is always near me. ”
After Mother’s passing in 1946, the hymn kept coming to me: it brought warm memories of Mother singing to me seated on her knee:
“God is always near me,
Hearing what I say
Knowing all my thoughts and deeds
All my work and play. ”
Years later when I was teaching Sunday School at Life Church, Prinsep Street, I was much constrained to introduce the hymn to our children, but it was not to be found in any of the dozen hymn books available.
But I never gave up the search. In 1956, when I was doing postgraduate studies in Belfast, I attended the Irish Evangelical Church. One Sunday morning, arriving early, I thought to myself, perhaps the Irish hymnal might have my long lost hymn? As I turned the pages, lo and behold! the hymn by Philip Bliss suddenly came into view. At long last, my search was rewarded. It is now hymn Number 521 of Revival Hymns and Choruses published in 1984.
I count it Mother’s legacy to our Church, as it continues to bless generations of our Sunday School children.
We lived in Kluang, Johor, 1932-1936. It was a kind of upgrading, from Senai’s plank house to Kluang’s brand new concrete shophouse. The family lived upstairs. Father’s dispensary was on the ground floor.
One early morning, I heard a mournful wailing of a woman’s voice coming from the back-lane. I was seven years old, and my childish curiosity was aroused. What is happening? I walked to the back-door and cautiously unlocked it. The scene which met my eyes remains imprinted in my mind to this day seventy-three years after.
There, lying on the bare concrete, was a middle-aged man, fully clothed but lifeless, obviously dead. Crouching over him was his wife clasping his face in her hands and sobbing uncontrollably, and calling his name.
Quickly I shut the door and went straight to Mother. “Mother, there’s a dead man in the lane. His wife is calling for him. Will he come back? ”
“No, son. When a person dies he does not come back. His soul leaves him. If he had believed Jesus, he goes to heaven; if not, he goes to hell. ”
“Mother, I believe in Jesus. I want to go to heaven. But I’m afraid of death. I don’t want to die. I want to be with you and Father. ”
“Siang Hwa, you need not fear death. Jesus died for us, and He rose from the dead for us. In Him we have victory over death. So do not be afraid. The Lord is with us. ”
It was in Kluang that Mother taught me the art of writing. She bought an exercise book and wrote the top line.
“Siang Hwa, now you follow and fill in the rest of the page. Write carefully. For every four pages of copy-writing I will give you one cent. ”
How exciting! In no time I finished four pages, then eight pages, and began to collect my cents! Thanks to Mother, she gave me an enduring gift of penmanship.
One day Mother said to me: “When you join Big Brother and Second Brother and Sister in Singapore. I will not see you until end of term when you come home for vacation. You will live with Grandfather. Father and I will miss you. We will pray for you. Study hard, do well, God be with you. ”
With a heavy heart I absorbed the words. Leaving home and parents was part of growing up. Before I left for Singapore, Mother taught me to pray, to bath myself, and generally to manage my own affairs.
When the time came, it was a painful parting. The first two weeks were very trying. Each afternoon, returning from school, Second Brother and I would go to the hedge at the back of the house and comfort each other’s homesickness with a private sobbing session. How we longed for Mother!
After Kluang, our family moved to Batu Pahat, some thirty miles to the west. Here Father set up his Dispensary. It was in Batu Pahat that I grew closest to Mother for those were the years of Japanese rule, 1942-1945, a total of forty-two months, when schools were closed and we children did not have to leave home to study in Singapore. Having been revived by Dr John Sung (1935-1938) Father and Mother would assemble us for Family Worship twice a day..
During those “Occupation Years, ” Mother taught me to cook, to stitch, to bake cakes, and how to keep house. From her I learned to prepare beef jerky, a favourite dish at home today.
“Good-bye Mother. See you in April”
The Pacific War ended in August 1945, the British returned a month later, and our four-year endurance test was over. Schools re-opened and my holiday with Father and Mother in Batu Pahat came to an end. It was back to school after four years of stagnation and Nippongo (Japanese language studies).
It was a sad parting, with mixed feelings. There was the excitement of going back to Anglo-Chinese School, at last! and the pain of leaving home. In those days, going to school in Singapore meant no contact with Parents for three long months. There were no telephones and week-end visits were simply ruled out because taxis were not cheap.
Father prayed, Mother saw me to the taxi outside Nan Sun Dispensary. My bundle of personal effects went into the boot. My old Raleigh bicycle was secured to the back of the taxi. A last clasp of Mother’s hand and, “Goodbye Mother, Goodbye Father, ” I took my leave.
As the taxi drew away, I had one last look of Mother outside the Dispensary, silent and forlorn. One final wave of the hand and farewell-forever!
Nine weeks later I was to return to an empty house, emptied of the smiling welcome voice of the one who brought me into the world, emptied of her cheerful presence. Mother lay cold and lifeless, but no less precious, no less endearing-a memory to cherish.
Mother dearest, gone to be with God! Her last sickness was a fever of fatal consequence. By her own testimony, “A large mosquito bit me. ” Could it have been dengue haemorrhage fever? or malaria? What does it matter?
There were two doctors in the house, Father and Sister. When the fever showed no signs of abating, they called in the Government Hospital Medical Superintendent, Dr Eapen, a good friend from Kluang days. Three doctors made little difference. The fever raged on.
On the fifth day, Mother took a turn for the worse. By late afternoon she said to Father, “I am going to heaven. Get ready my Sunday clothes. Call the Church ladies. ” The announcement came as a bolt from the blue.
The ladies from the Church came weeping. Gathered by Mother’s bedside, they prayed and sang the songs of heaven. Mother spoke her last words to each one, as well as to Father and the eight children.
“Be fervent in spirit, serving the Lord, till He comes. ” As the night wore on, Mother’s strength steadily ebbed away. At about eleven o’clock, she spoke her last words, “I hear music, sound of piano. ” The Lord had ushered her into rest.
While all this was happening, unbeknown to us in Singapore, Big Brother and I had an unusual experience. We were reading into the night when suddenly the light went off with a “pop. ” How odd! But light bulbs also have a limited life span!
Maybe it’s time to close down for the night. My bed was a mattress on the floor. I lit a mosquito repellant coil, prayed, and lay down to sleep. It had been a long and tiring day. In no time sleep had overtaken me.
Sometime in the night, Big Brother and I were aroused from our deep sleep by choking fumes of pungent smoke. Jumping up from my mattress, I switched on the light, and to my horror, one corner of the mattress was alight and smouldering. In quick time, I beat out the fire and all was peace again. But what an unusual experience.
I pondered over the two happenings; the blown bulb, the smouldering mattress. What could it mean?
When all the excitement was over, Brother and I went back to sleep.
Next morning, about seven, I was awakened by a loud knocking on the front door. Bang! bang! bang!
“Who is that, ” I called out
“Are you Tow Siang Hwa? Your Mother in Batu Pahat passed away last night! ”
What a shock! Shock upon shock: blown bulb, burning mattress, departed Mother!
All of us, including many relatives, hurried back for the funeral. It was altogether an unforgettable and traumatic event. Mother’s passing shook many people. For months, Father was completely shattered, tossing like a ship without a rudder in turbulent waters.
Everybody wept after Mother was gone. But only the filial child is moved to tears while Mother is alive. The fact is too many sons and daughters treat their Mother as some sort of Amah.
The filial son, the filial daughter, appreciates Mother while Mother is well and able, and available. This is a hard lesson.
One day in Batu Pahat, I said to Mother, “Mother, we’ll get a house. I will go and work and support you. You have slaved for the family, borne all our burdens upon yourself, without a day of rest. You have never taken a vacation, not even a day off. Mother, I will give you a place of rest, a holiday. ” It was thinking aloud, baring my heart to Mother.
Mother smiled, “Yes, son, wait till you grow up, one day. ” I was eighteen. When Mother passed away, I was twenty. These good intentions were never to be fulfilled.
How can I ever repay Mother? Our Lord’s words gave answer: “Who is my mother?... whosoever shall do the will of my Father which is in heaven, the same is my... mother” (Matt 12:48 , 50 ).
After Mother’s departing, this law of love given by our Lord became my lifelong guide: to do something for the elderly ladies and widows of the church of Jesus Christ.
To those who have Mothers living, begin today to love them as though they had come back from the dead. That was what I wished would happen on March 9, 1946. But do not stop at wishes. Show Mother your gratitude while you may.
As for Mother, her labour on earth was accomplished, so God called her Home to rest. Our Lord doeth all things well: blessed be the name of the Lord.