A chill November wind swept over the mission compound as evening made its approach. Hugging his jacket close to his body, Robbie continued to pace back and forth before the front door of the residence. He had always heard of men behaving in this peculiarly nervous manner before the birth of their firstborn, but he had never imagined himself in such a position. And now here he was—the anxious, fidgety father-to-be, unable to relax even for a moment.
Yet how could he sit still when one of the greatest events of his life was occurring behind that closed door? Pacing was the only way to relieve the pent-up emotions. Even Shan-fei’s tea had not helped.
He wanted to burst into the room and yell at his father-in-law not to take so long! But he knew Isaiah would only look up benevolently, and in a loving but patronizing tone say, “These things have their own timing, Robert. Babies come when they are ready, and when the Creator is ready to let them go.”
It had been two hours since the heaviest stage of Hsi-chen’s labor had begun, and that following almost fifteen hours of moderate pains. How much could her weakened body endure?
“Dear Father! Protect her!” he cried.
The words were hardly necessary, for Robbie knew the Lord’s strong arms were ever around his dear wife. If only he could communicate that truth to his pounding heart.
A child was the last thing Robbie ever expected to have during his days of adventuring. And it certainly had been far from his mind that day more than a year ago when he had asked Hsi-chen to become his wife, especially when she had revealed the sad secret in her life.
So many things had changed so suddenly for Robbie!
His mind wandered back to that day, filled as it had been simultaneously with great joy and deep sorrow. They had walked up to the little hillside where he had made his final commitment to God. It had been no idle stroll or surprise destination. He had planned their steps exactly. All day he had been rehearsing in his mind that very moment, and knew the words must be spoken in that spot. A gentle breeze had been making its way over the hilltop, but it had nevertheless been dry and warm, for the summer monsoon still clung tenuously to the river delta.
“I will never come here without being reminded of how loving and merciful our God is—to all men,” he had said, gazing out over the rice fields, now being harvested by the village folk. “But there are many things besides which also stir that knowledge within me.”
“When one knows God,” Hsi-chen replied, “it is impossible to look upon any of His creation and not be aware of His goodness.”
“Yes,” agreed Robbie. “I see it also when I look at you, over and over. How wonderful it was of God to have allowed me to find you.” He gazed into her lovely eyes, then continued. “So often I wonder if I am worthy even to know you. Then I realize all over again that I am not worthy of any of His gifts. But it is that awareness which enables me to come to you now with what I must say—with what cries out from my heart to be said.”
He paused, and took her hands in his one large, warm hand. “Hsi-chen . . . I love you!”
She opened her mouth to speak, but he stopped her with a quick shake of the head. “Please,” he said, “let me finish before you protest. I haven’t much to offer, though I know God is able to make up for what I lack. And I know my life has not been a stable one, and I don’t even know how much of that I can change. But for once I am willing to lay all that in God’s hands, if you are. For I love you and want to marry you!”
He ended abruptly, with a sharp breath and a look of anxiety on his brow, for he did not see a look of reciprocal joy on Hsi-chen’s face that he had hoped for. Was he doomed never to find happiness in love?
“Oh, Robbie!” Hsi-chen finally answered in a voice filled with emotion. “I have been so selfish and unfair to you!”
“What are you talking about! You have never been selfish to me! You are incapable of such things,” Robbie declared. “It’s my own fault. I thought only of myself—I wanted so desperately to believe that you loved me also—”
“But I do, Robbie!”
“Then what can be worrying you so? If you are afraid of Feng-huang’s wandering—?”
“It is not that.”
Hsi-chen released her hands from his and walked a few paces from him, as if she would already begin breaking the bonds that held them. At last she spoke. “I have selfishly withheld something from you, Robbie. I wanted so many times to tell you. But I knew when I did it must mean the end of any love we might have been able to have. So I put it off, and put it off still further, until now, when I fear I shall break both of our hearts.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Robbie, I . . . I have—my body is not well, Robbie . . .”
But that had not mattered to Robbie. God had brought them together, whether it might last a year or ten years or fifty. And could not the God who brought such dramatic change to a sailor’s life also heal Hsi-chen’s body? And yet, as much as Robbie hoped their love might last for fifty years, in the days of bliss following their marriage, he had come more and more often before the Lord to pray for strength to accept the loss he knew must come.
He had to write Jamie again, Robbie thought. The time flew by so quickly. It had already been more than a year since his first letter, and he had had her reply months ago. What he wouldn’t give to see her face when she read that Robbie Taggart was a father!
The thought of fatherhood brought Robbie quickly back to the present. He glanced toward the door. If only he could be spared from having to bid Hsi-chen farewell today! A lump rose in his throat and tears to his eyes. “I’m not ready, Father. Please, give us more time,” he murmured.
When he looked up again Robbie saw old Chang approaching. He gathered in his emotions in time to greet the man with a smile.
“We hear little Hsi-chen’s confinement is come,” said the old man in broken English. He and Robbie had been working together to teach one another their respective languages.
“Well spoken, my friend!” said Robbie. “I wish my Chinese was progressing as well as your English.”
“You have others occupy your mind,” said Chang with a knowing grin. “And Chinese difficult to learn.” Now he held out his hands, and Robbie saw that he held a package. “We bring gift for new little one. If son, may he bring delight to old age. If daughter, may she bring years of joy.”
“To hsieh, to hsieh,” Robbie replied with a bow. “Many thanks, dear friend.”
“My wife make,” said Chang, pointing toward the package. “Need not open now. You be lucky man, and will find many blessings in firstborn!”
Robbie could not keep still the surge of emotion that rose in him. He threw his arm around the old man and embraced him. Then they parted, the old Chinese even more reticent than Robbie to display his innermost feelings.
But his words lingered in Robbie’s ears. “You . . . will find many blessings in firstborn.”
Yes, Robbie was sure he would. Though fatherhood was an experience, a gift he never thought he’d have, he now looked forward to it with great anticipation. Eleven months ago, when Hsi-chen had first approached him about the subject, he had vehemently shaken his head. He would do nothing, he said, which might increase the danger to her life. His words had been harsh and he had refused to hear another mention of the subject. Yet her downcast eyes and quiet spirit over the following days caused him to repent of his hasty judgment. Yet had not Wallace counseled him about the dangers of childbirth before their marriage, as much as physician as a concerned father? How could Robbie even dream of putting in risk this dear gift God had given him?
It was not many nights later that Hsi-chen had broached the subject once more.
“I know I must leave this world soon, my dear,” she had told him.
Again Robbie tried to shake off her words. She had been looking so well lately, with high color and a healthy glow about her cheeks. He had begun to convince himself that this whole business of her illness must be a mistake. He did not want to be reminded otherwise.
“Please listen to me, dear Robbie,” she implored. “I have spent many hours in prayer about this. I do not think it is wrong of me to want to leave a part of myself behind when I go. It would only be different if I knew that you did not want—”
“You know that is not it,” he answered quickly. “But I want you more than any child.”
“From the beginning you knew that you could not have me always,” she said gently.
Robbie hung his head. “I know,” he whispered at length. “But I have never given up hoping.”
“I have but one reservation,” she went on. “I would not want to cause you to be tied to a child . . . after I am gone. With nothing to tie you to this place, you may again—”
He raised his hand to interrupt her, but no words would come. He turned away.
Did Hsi-chen hold a latent fear that when she was gone from him, his roving feet might once more call to him? Did she think that he was still afraid of lasting ties?
Was he? No, he had put his past as well as his future in God’s hands, even before he had asked Hsi-chen to be his wife. God had directed his steps thus far, and he need not fear the future.
Finally he turned his face to hers. “Oh, my dear,” he said passionately, “haven’t you known? Don’t you yet feel it? I ceased being a wanderer on that hillside months ago—I am now a white swan! I have come here to stay. I want to have a family now. No matter what God calls me to do, our child would never be anything but a further reminder of His love—and our love, yours and mine! I would count it the greatest honor of my life, other than being your husband, to hold in trust this most precious of all gifts—your child.”
“Oh, Robbie, you make me so happy!”
“You are sure it is what you want?”
“I am so sure,” she answered. “And though my father will not say so, I sense that having a child will do nothing to accelerate what is coming anyway. I believe God will allow me enough time for this one last earthly joy.”
Robbie drew Hsi-chen to him, kissing her tenderly. It seemed impossible that he should have discovered such a treasure!
As her final request became a reality, he tried not to think that they must soon part. Yet as the months of her pregnancy progressed through the following spring and summer, that truth became all the more painfully evident. Every day Robbie said goodbye to her in his heart, though his mind continued to struggle with what he still tried to convince himself might never happen. Something would happen, he kept telling himself—a miracle, a breakthrough of some kind.