As HE, on his mother's lap, rode along in the four-man chair, through the interior of Korea to visit some of the churches, all the passers-by stopped to gaze at him, and when, near some town or village, the bearers, for a brief rest, lowered the chair, a crowd soon gathered, and remarks about the baby would be heard.
"How his hair has faded; it is gray like an old man's," they would say. It was the first time many of them had seen a foreign child, and also the first time some of them had seen blond or golden hair.
"He must be five or six years of age," they would say. Some one asked him, "How old are you?" He answered, Soy wasso, which means anywhere from one and a half to three years, or that the child had lived in parts of three years. He is two and a half years old.
The people were amazed, not only that such a big, talkative, playful child could be only two and a half, but that he could talk to them, for he would salute them in their fashion, saying, "Are you in peace?" and, in departing, say, "Abide in peace."
The three-year-old children of the Koreans are always carried on their mother's backs, and are small and shy.
When the party stopped for any length of time to teach, the baby's mother, to attract the attention, and to win the hearts, of the people, would ask him to sing for them. He would sing a part of "Let a Little Sunshine In." That gave his mother a good opportunity to teach the sight-seeing crowd.
After interpreting the meaning of the song the child had sung to them, she would urge upon them the beauty and necessity of opening their hearts to let in God's light and love. The people would then be quite responsive, and, looking lovingly at the baby, call him, Chagun Moksa, or "little pastor."
While his mother held meetings with the women, the baby would remain in his tiny room with the amah; then, at the close of the services, he would be brought out for the women to see.
They didn't always wait, however, for him to come out, but all day, and during the evenings, people would come to the paper doors and windows, press a wet finger against the paper, and soon have eyeholes all around. To these the baby would go, and gaze into the curious eyes, and sometimes, to the great amusement of the sightseers, he would step into their straw shoes at the door, and walk around in them.—Mattie Wilcox Noble.
