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I told you I was working on something I found that I started 18 years ago. I just finished copying the last bit of 40 pages I've already written. Of course, the last third of the book was left open-ended, so there's plenty to be done, but it feels like the end is now in sight.

I know I wrote this myself, so it's not new, but I had to shake my head again when I read about my parents' first Christmas (1957). They'd moved into a former public bathhouse--a small, very inexpensive place--and they were praying about how to introduce themselves to their neighbors, when a policeman came to the door saying he wanted them to come down to the station for questioning.

They were accused of a hit-and-run of a neighborhood girl. What had happened was, some children had been playing on the back of the car when it started to move. The boy jumped off immediately, but the sister, too frightened to move, hung on to the bumper and was dragged on the dirt road for a while until the car stopped to the frantic motioning by pedestrians. The mother, walking by, had seen the whole incident. Altho' the boy had taken the girl to the doctor who patched her up, she was pronounced fine and sent to school the next day. Matters turned for the worse several days later, and the little girl died on Dec. 22, probably from gangrene.

The mother, wanting to protect my parents whom she knew to be innocent, would not initially give their names to the police. Newspaper headlines declared "Missionary Hit-And-Run, Noboru and Kimiko Oshiro, who live at (it gave their addresses) hit 7-yr.-old Yukiko Kinjo as she was walking down the street. There had been desperate attempts to keep the traffic incident secret from the police and society," the article said, "but policeman M brought the truth to light."

The next few days (in other words, this included Christmas Day) were spent in intense interrogation and investigation which completely cleared my parents of any wrongdoing, neglect, or of course, bribery.

And there was a surprise bonus that came after the air had cleared and they decided to begin their ministry. My Mom and Dad had no need to introduce themselves to their neighbors; everyone knew who they were. After all, they had received free, front-page advertising on most local newspapers, (and some people were slightly sympathetic with them for getting a bum rap from the police.)