As a young woman, Gladys Aylward answered God's call to become a missionary to China, and He empowered her to overcome tremendous obstacles to fulfill His plan for her life.

In her biography, she relates the following amazing story which took place toward the end of her many years of service for her Lord. You will learn how one gospel tract could change the lives of so many. KEEP SPREADING THE WORD!

Eventually the Japanese, who had overrun Shansi, were reported to be on their way to Shensi, so we fled to Fenghsien where I discovered a group of about sixty students who had been driven out from their school in Kai Feng by the enemy and were also in Fenghsien. As I looked in the open doorway I saw the students squatting around what was obviously a map. One went forward, shut his eyes and poked with his finger at the map. When he opened his eyes, he read aloud the name of the place where his finger had landed, and said, "Does anyone know anything about this place?"

I stood entranced while one after another prayed about this unknown town or village. Then another went forward, again jabbed blindly with his finger, and read another name. At the end of the meeting, I questioned the students and learned that they had this part of the northwest laid on their hearts and were praying for different places every day.

After three weeks of these prayer meetings I asked, "Is anyone going to these places you are praying for?"

"No one knows the country, but now our special prayer is for someone to go and spy out the land."

Two days later I was convinced that God was asking me to go to this unknown territory and, with their prayers and blessings ringing in my ears, I set off a few days later.

As I ventured into the northwest I managed each morning to get someone to escort me as my guide from his village to the next until I came to Tsin Tsui. When I asked about the road ahead, with one accord everyone advised me to turn back. "You cannot go further," they declared, "this is the end. Further on there is nothing."

"But I must go on. It is what I have come for."

The villagers shook their heads dolefully. Then, seeing I was fully determined to go forward, a Chinese doctor, who was a Christian, offered to accompany me for five days. His name was Dr. Huang, and he had always been curious as to what lay outside his immediate district.

The five days lengthened to ten as we witnessed to everyone along the way about God's Son, Jesus Christ. We plodded on the eleventh day but did not meet a living soul or see the slightest sign of human habitation anywhere. By mid-afternoon I was becoming perturbed. Where were we going to sleep and get any food?

I stared around and then burst out, "Dr. Huang, we are going to put down our bundles and pray."

We threw our bundles on the ground and knelt down. "Dear God," I began, "have mercy on us. You can see what a plight we are in. Give us food and shelter for the night."

Then very calmly Dr. Huang began to pray. "O God, send us the one You want us to tell about Jesus. We have witnessed to no one today, but You have sent us here for some special purpose. Show us where to find the man You intend to bless."

I felt humbled and ashamed. While I had been so concerned with my own comfort and wants, this man was concerned only with his Father's business.

After a few moments I said, "Shall we sing a chorus?" So we sat and sang, and our voices must have carried far in the clear mountain air.

Suddenly Dr. Huang jumped to his feet. "There is our man," he cried, and before I could stop him, he had dashed off to the mountainside. Next I heard Dr. Huang shouting, "Come on up; I have found our man."

I scrambled up and found, leaning against a rock, a Tibetan lama priest. I stared from him to Dr. Huang. I knew that lamas were supposed to have nothing to do with women.

"Did you tell him I was a woman?" I demanded of Dr. Huang.

"Yes, but he invited you to come to spend the night in the lamasery. There is nowhere else for us to go," Dr. Huang pointed out.

When I hesitated, the man spoke in an accent I could understand.

"We have waited long for you to tell us about the God who loves."

My heart jumped and, without another word, we followed our guide up the path. The side of the mountain we had climbed was barren rock; but this side was covered in green grass and flowering vines. At the top stood the lamasery, imposing and stately. The huge gate closed as we went in, and I thought, "Will we ever get out again?"

A party of lamas greeted us almost reverently and escorted me to a small room. They kept bringing everything they could think of for my comfort including daintily prepared food.

After our strenuous climb, I felt very weary, and had just decided I would lie down to rest when two men knocked at the door and politely requested me to accompany them. I was joined by Dr. Huang and we were escorted to a very large courtyard. In this were five hundred hassocks made of coconut leaves arranged in a rough semicircle, and on each of these hassocks sat a lama with his hands piously crossed and his head bent.

We were taken to two empty hassocks in the center, and sat down. "What on earth are we expected to do?" I wondered nervously.

Dr. Huang said, "Now we will begin. You sing."

In a very trembling voice I sang in Chinese, "Glorious Freedom."

A deathly silence followed. Then Dr. Huang began to talk. He told them about the Baby who was born in a stable in Bethlehem, then he told them of the Saviour who died on Calvary.

"Now sing again," he said. So I sang, then I talked; I sang again, then he talked; I sang again, then I talked.

Still the five hundred lamas sat immobile and silent on their hassocks.

I was on the verge of collapse, so I said in a low voice, "I will fall off this hassock in a minute."

"Then we will finish," Dr. Huang replied, and we went to our rooms.

Again I started to go to bed, but was disturbed by a knock on the door. Two priests stood outside.

"Woman, are you too tired to tell us more?" they asked humbly.

They came in, listened intently, and went away. A few minutes later two more came, and so it went on all night. Always the same question, "Will you explain how and why Jesus died? Will you explain how He could love me?"

These men never questioned that God was the Creator of the world, they never doubted the fact of the virgin birth, they did not consider any of the miracles incredible. It was the wonder of God's love which obsessed them. Christ's death on Calvary filled their minds with awe and reverence.

The next morning I found that the same thing had happened in Dr. Huang's room. Here, indeed, were men thirsting for the old, old story of God's wonderful salvation.

After a week, I received a summons to go before the head lama whom we had not seen so far. Dr. Huang was not invited; I was to go alone.

To my surprise he spoke in the pure Mandarin Chinese of Peking, which I understood perfectly. We discussed various things, then greatly daring, I asked, "Why did you let me, a foreign woman, come into your lamasery and speak to your priests?"

"It is a long story. Out on our mountainside grows a licorice herb which my lamas collect and sell in the cities. One year the men who had taken the harvest down on the mules were passing through a village when they saw a man waving a paper and calling out, 'Who wants one? Salvation free and for nothing. He who believes gets salvation and lives forever.' The lamas took the paper and brought it back to the lamasery."

I was then shown the paper, now worn and in pieces, stuck on the wall. It was an ordinary tract, quoting John 3:16, "For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life." From it they had learned that somewhere there was a "God who loves."

The head lama continued the story. "The next five years, when our men took the herb down to the cities they could learn nothing more about 'The God who loves.' Finally they were directed to a small China Inland Mission. Upon asking the Chinese evangelist, he told them all he could, and gave them each a copy of the Gospels.

"Eagerly they hurried back to the lamasery and we read the accounts of Matthew, Mark, Luke and John. We believed all that it contained, though there was much we could not understand. But one verse seemed of special importance. Christ had said, 'Go ye into all the world and preach the gospel,' so obviously one day someone would come to tell us more about this wonderful God. All we had to do was to wait and, when God sent a messenger, to be ready to receive him. For another three years we waited. Then two lamas, out on the hillside gathering sticks, heard someone singing. 'Those are the messengers we are waiting for,' they said, 'Only people who know God will sing.'

"While one went back to tell the rest of us to prepare for the long-expected guests, the other came down to meet you on the hillside."

Dr. Huang and I were privileged to be used as God's messengers to share the gospel in this place that He had appointed. We left the rest to Him and the work of the Holy Spirit. I often wonder what happened to those five hundred lamas. That many of them believed, trusted and received salvation, I have no shadow of doubt. God's love had prepared the soil to receive the Seed of the Word. Only in eternity will we ever learn the result of one of the strangest weeks I have ever spent.

—Taken from Gladys Aylward, the Little Woman by Christine Hunter, Moody Press, copyright 1970. Used by permission.