On his way to India in 1916

4) On his way to India in 1916

, Silas Fox and his wife arrived in Hong Kong, expecting to take a boat to Ceylon with fellow missionaries. When he tried to book passage, he was told, “Sorry, fully booked. We can give you two berths on a Japanese ship leaving two weeks later.”
As Silas tells it, at that moment he was given faith to reject this offer and to press for his names to be placed on a reserve list against cancellations for the Novara. Because there was an interval of some eight days before transshipment, he felt sure two berths would fall vacant. The company was not so. Hopeful and did their best to dissuade him, but their words fell on deaf ears.
Silas now made himself a nuisance by his inquiries. Listen,” he was advised, “since bookings are coming in for the Japanese ship, you might lose your chance on it. You had better take what’s going while the going’s good.” But again, their words fell on deaf ears. “I am praying for cancellations on the Novara,” he told them.
Finally the day of embarkation arrived. Passengers were ferried over at 9 a.m., 11 a.m., and 1 p.m. the three young men took the first ferry and bade Silas and Emma good-bye. “Don’t be a fanatic,” one of them cautioned Silas. You can carry faith too far.” “Don’t worry,” replied Silas, “I’ll be seeing you on board the Novara.” Let Silas now take up the narrative of the next few hours.

I inquired again at 11 a.m. And they just shook their heads. In faith, I had booked out of the hotel and transported the baggage to the wharf. There I asked Emma to sit with it. I can see her now just sitting there. She had great confidence both in God and in me and I didn’t want to let her down. I then went over to the money-changers to change my money. I wanted to be ready when the cancellations came. Shortly after 11 a.m. A man came running down the wharf waving tickets in his right hand while he shouted, “Where’s Mr. Fox?” I sauntered up to him, and all he could say as he handed me the tickets was, “Amazing, two cancellations came in just after you left. Here are your tickets. Good luck to you.” I took them and said, “I knew this would happen.” HE certainly looked astounded. But this was nothing compared to the astonishment on the faces of our party. One of the first people we met on board was one of the young men. “How did you get here?” He inquired in disbelief. “Almighty God helped us,” was all I could say.

“The White Fox of Andhra” by Donald Fox. Philadelphia: Dormancy & Company 1977. Pp 31-32.