Life Story

Grateful for My Precious Memories!

AS TOLD BY DRUSILLA CAINE

The year was 1933, and I had just married Zanoah Caine, who like me, was a colporteur​—a full-time evangelizer. Bubbling with excitement, I planned to join my husband in his assignment, but to do so, I needed a bicycle​—a luxury I had never been able to afford, as times were hard during the depression. What could I do?

HEARING of my predicament, my brothers-in-law searched local rubbish dumps, trying to find old parts to make a bicycle for me. They did, and it worked! As soon as I learned to ride, Zanoah and I were on our way, happily cycling through the English counties of Worcester and Hereford, witnessing to all whom we met.

Little did I realize that this simple step of faith would lead to a life filled with rich memories. The spiritual foundation for my life, however, had been laid by my dear parents.

Difficult Years of the Great War

I was born in December 1909. Shortly afterward my mother obtained a copy of The Divine Plan of the Ages, and in 1914 my parents took me to see the “Photo-Drama of Creation,” in Oldham, Lancashire. (Both were produced by those now known as Jehovah’s Witnesses.) Young as I was, I clearly remember skipping for joy on the way home at what I had seen! Frank Heeley then started a Bible study group in Rochdale, where we lived. Attending this helped us as a family to build up an understanding of the Scriptures.

 The serenity of our lives was shattered that same year by the outbreak of the Great War​—World War I, as we call it now. My father was drafted for the army but took a neutral stand. He was described in court as “a very decent man,” and several letters were submitted from “gentlemen stating that they believed he was sincere in his objection to take up arms,” reported the local newspaper.

Instead of being granted full exemption, however, my father was registered as exempt “from Combatant Service only.” He immediately became an object of derision, as did my mother and I. Eventually, his classification was reviewed, and he was assigned to agricultural work, but some farmers exploited the situation and paid him little or nothing. To support the family, my mother worked​—for a pittance—​doing heavy work in a privately owned laundry. Yet, I see now how strengthening it was for me to spend the formative years of my life coping with such difficult circumstances; it helped me appreciate the more important spiritual things.

A Small Beginning

Daniel Hughes, a keen Bible student, soon appeared on the scene. He was a collier (coal miner) in Ruabon, a village some 12 miles [20 km] from Oswestry, where we had moved to. Uncle Dan, as I called him, kept in touch with our family, and whenever he came to see us, his conversation was always on Scriptural matters. He never engaged in small talk. A Bible study class was started in Oswestry in 1920, and Uncle Dan gave me a copy of The Harp of God in 1921. I treasured this because it made the Bible teachings so much easier for me to grasp.

Then there was Pryce Hughes, * who later became the presiding minister of the London branch office of Jehovah’s Witnesses. He lived with his family nearby at Bronygarth, on the Welsh border, and his sister, Cissie, became a close friend of my mother’s.

I remember the excitement in 1922 when the call came to ‘advertise the King and his kingdom.’ During the years that followed, although I was still in school, I eagerly joined in distributing the special tracts, particularly Ecclesiastics Indicted in 1924. Looking back on that decade, what a privilege it was to associate with so many faithful brothers and sisters​—among them Maud Clark * and her partner Mary Grant, * Edgar Clay, * Robert Hadlington, Katy Roberts, Edwin Skinner, * along with Percy Chapman and Jack Nathan, * who both went to Canada to assist with the work there.

The Bible lecture “Millions Now Living Will Never Die” proved to be a timely witness in our extensive territory. On May 14, 1922, Stanley Rogers, a relative of Pryce Hughes, came from Liverpool to deliver this talk in Chirk, a village just north of our town, and later that evening at The Picture Playhouse in Oswestry. I still have one of the handbills specially printed for that event. During all this time, our little group continued to be strengthened by visits from three traveling overseers​—pilgrims as we used to call them—​Herbert Senior, Albert Lloyd, and John Blaney.

A Time of Decision

In 1929, I made my decision to be baptized. I was 19 years old, and at the same time, I faced my first real test. I met a young man whose father was a politician. We were mutually attracted, and he proposed marriage. The year before, the book Government had been released, so I gave him a copy. But it soon became apparent that he had no interest in a heavenly government, the theme  of this book. I knew from my studies that the Israelites of old were commanded not to form any marriage alliances with unbelievers and that this principle applied to Christians. Therefore, although it was difficult to do so, I declined his proposal.​—Deuteronomy 7:3; 2 Corinthians 6:14.

I drew strength from the apostle Paul’s words: “Let us not give up in doing what is fine, for in due season we shall reap if we do not tire out.” (Galatians 6:9) Dear Uncle Dan also helped when he wrote: “In trials small and trials great, take Romans 8, verse 28,” which says: “Now we know that God makes all his works cooperate together for the good of those who love God, those who are the ones called according to his purpose.” It was not easy, but I knew that I had made the right decision. That year I enrolled as a colporteur.

Meeting the Challenge

In 1931 we received our new name, Jehovah’s Witnesses, and in that year, we had a vigorous campaign using the booklet The Kingdom, the Hope of the World. A copy was given to every politician, clergyman, and businessman. My territory extended from Oswestry to Wrexham, some 15 miles [25 km] to the north. It was a challenge to cover it all.

At a convention in Birmingham the following year, a call went out for 24 volunteers. Eagerly, 24 of us turned in our names for a new feature of service, not knowing what it was to be. Imagine our surprise when we were assigned in pairs to offer the same booklet, The Kingdom, the Hope of the World, while wearing heavy sandwich boards advertising the Kingdom.

Working the precincts of the cathedral, I felt very self-conscious, but consoled myself that nobody in that city knew me. Yet, the first person to approach me was an old school friend, who just stared and said: “What on earth are you doing dressed like that?” That experience cured me of any fear of man I might have had!

Moving Further Afield

In 1933, I married Zanoah, a widower 25 years my senior. His first wife had been a zealous Bible Student, and Zanoah had faithfully remained in his assignment after her death. We soon moved from England to our new territory in North Wales, about 90 miles [150 km] away. Cartons, suitcases, and other precious belongings were perched precariously on our bicycle handlebars, wedged between the crossbars, and packed into panniers, but we made it! In that assignment our cycles were indispensable​—they took us everywhere, even near the top of Cader Idris, a Welsh mountain almost 3,000 feet [about 900 m] high. It was so rewarding to find people who longed to hear “this good news of the kingdom.”​—Matthew 24:14.

We had not been there long when people told us that a certain Tom Pryce had been preaching to them, just as we were doing.  We eventually located Tom living on Long Mountain, near Welshpool​—and what a surprise we had! During my early witnessing days, I had placed the Bible study aid Reconciliation with him. He studied it on his own, wrote to London for more literature, and had been zealously sharing his newfound faith ever since. We enjoyed many hours of happy fellowship, the three of us often studying together to encourage one another.

A Disaster Leads to Blessings

In 1934 all colporteurs close to North Wales were invited to go to the town of Wrexham to help with the distribution of the booklet Righteous Ruler. The day before we started this special campaign, there had been a national disaster. An explosion at the Gresford colliery (coal mine), two miles [3 km] north of Wrexham, had killed 266 miners. Over 200 children were left fatherless, and 160 women were widowed.

We were to list the bereaved, visit them personally, and leave a booklet. One of the names given to me was that of a Mrs. Chadwick who had lost a 19-year-old son. When I called, an older son, Jack, was visiting his mother to comfort her. This young man recognized me but did not say so. Subsequently, he read the booklet and then searched for The Final War, another booklet I had left with him some years earlier.

Jack and his wife, May, found out where I was staying and came for more literature. In 1936 they agreed to hold meetings in their home at Wrexham. Following a visit from Albert Lloyd six months later, a congregation was established, with Jack Chadwick as the presiding overseer. There are now three congregations in Wrexham.

Life in a Gypsy Caravan

Up to this time, we used whatever accommodations we could find as we moved from place to place, but Zanoah decided that the time had come for us to have a home of our own, one that could be towed from site to site. My husband was a skilled carpenter of Gypsy extraction, and he built a Gypsy caravan for us. We called it Elizabeth, a Bible name meaning “God of Plenty.”

I particularly remember one place we stayed​—it was in an orchard by a stream. To me it was just like Paradise! Nothing marred the happiness of the years we spent together in that caravan, even though it had evident limitations. In the cold weather, the bedclothes often froze to the caravan walls, and condensation was a constant problem. Water also had to be carried, sometimes quite a distance, but we overcame these difficulties together.

One winter I was ill, and we had little food and no money. Zanoah sat on the bed, took my hand in his, and read Psalm 37:25 to me:  “A young man I used to be, I have also grown old, and yet I have not seen anyone righteous left entirely, nor his offspring looking for bread.” Gazing at me he said: “If something doesn’t happen soon, we will be begging, and I can’t see God letting that take place!” He then went out to witness to our neighbors.

When Zanoah returned at midday to make me something to drink, an envelope awaited him. It contained £50 from his father. Some years earlier Zanoah had been falsely accused of embezzlement, but his innocence had just been established. This gift was to make amends. How timely!

A Salutary Lesson

Sometimes we learn lessons after a number of years have passed. To illustrate: Before quitting school in 1927, I witnessed to all my classmates and teachers​—except one, Lavinia Fairclough. Since no one was interested in what I planned to do with my life, and as I did not get on very well with Miss Fairclough anyway, I decided not to tell her. Imagine my surprise​—and delight—​some 20 years later when my mother told me that this teacher had returned to visit all her old friends and pupils to tell them that she was now one of Jehovah’s Witnesses!

When we met, I explained why I had not told her earlier of my faith and planned career. She listened quietly and then said: “I had always been looking for the truth. It had been the quest of my life!” This experience was a salutary lesson for me​—never to hold back from witnessing to all whom I meet and never to prejudge anyone.

Another War​—And Beyond

War clouds began to gather again as the 1930’s drew to a close. Dennis, my brother ten years my junior, was exempted from military service on the condition that he remain in his secular employment. He had never shown much interest in the truth, so my husband and I asked local pioneers Rupert Bradbury and his brother David if they would visit him. They did, and they studied the Bible with him. Dennis was baptized in 1942, later entered the pioneer service, and was appointed as a traveling overseer in 1957.

Our daughter, Elizabeth, was born in 1938, and to meet the needs of the family, Zanoah enlarged our caravan. When our second daughter, Eunice, came along in 1942, it seemed wise to look for a more permanent home. For this reason Zanoah ceased pioneering for a few years, and we moved to a small house near Wrexham. Later, we settled in Middlewich in the adjoining county of Cheshire. There my dear husband died in 1956.

Our two daughters became full-time evangelizers, and both are happily married. Eunice and her husband, an elder, still serve as special pioneers in London. Elizabeth’s husband is also a congregation elder, and it is a joy for me to have them, their children, and my four great-grandchildren living near me in Preston, Lancashire.

I am grateful that I can walk from the front door of my apartment to the Kingdom Hall across the road. In recent years, I have associated with the Gujarati-speaking group, which also meets there. Learning the language has not been easy because I am slightly deaf now. It is difficult at times to pick up many of the subtleties of tone, as younger folk can. But it is an interesting challenge.

I am still able to preach from door to door and to conduct Bible studies in my home. When friends come to visit me, it is always a pleasure to recount some of my earlier experiences. I am so grateful for my precious memories of the blessings I have received while associating with Jehovah’s people for close to 90 years.

[Footnotes]

[Picture on page 25]

Handbill advertising the Bible lecture “Millions Now Living Will Never Die,” which I heard on May 14, 1922

[Picture on page 26]

With Zanoah shortly after our marriage in 1933

[Picture on page 26]

Standing by “Elizabeth,” our caravan built by my husband