The Minnesota afternoon was warm, the road dusty, the team slow. Suddenly the boy spotted something shiny by the roadside. “Whoa! Whoa!” he shouted to the startled horses as he pulled up on the reins. He threw the reins into his surprised mother’s hands, and jumped from the wagon, his eyes glued to the shiny piece of metal that had caught his attention. With a cry of triumph he picked up from its dusty resting place – a silver dollar! A whole silver dollar! His boyish mind was already calculating its purchasing power in the village stores.
With great joy he showed his treasure to his mother, who at once began to formulate her own thoughts about its purchasing power. Tactfully she brought her son’s thoughts to the great needs of children in the heathen lands across the sea, their great poverty of the knowledge of a God who loved and cared for them just as He loved and cared for the fortunate children in America. This precious silver dollar would be a valuable contribution to the missionary work of the church. Only God would know how many children could be saved in His kingdom because of it, she argued gently. Someday he would meet them in heaven!
The boy’s heart was softened. There were, he knew, many children in far-away places that did not know the love of Jesus that he enjoyed, even as a poor farm boy. He would send them his silver dollar!
But God was also interested in something more from this farm boy—his heart and life! And so it was that God called him from the farm to the mission field. Indeed, his heart followed his treasure, the then far-away land of China!
Pastor Allen L. Ham was born to a farm family near Minneapolis, Minnesota, on October 13, 1889. During his teenage years the family joined the Seventh-day Adventist Church. Later they moved to Washington State. He attended Forest Lake Academy, where he met his future wife, Nina Fern Wilcox. He also attended Walla Walla College, Pacific Union College, and was for a short time at Loma Linda. He and Fern Wilcox were married on December 23, 1912. They immediately went to Takoma Park, Washington, D. C. where they attended the Foreign Missions Training School.
Now they were ready for their own mission assignment, which was at first in the British colony of Hong Kong, arriving in 1913. He worked to establish a school there. Soon he was transferred to Canton, where he became Superintendent of the South China Mission, establishing schools, training local pastors and Bible workers. He often traveled among the cities and villages, nurturing the gospel “fires” lit by Chinese pastors and laymen in the less-traveled areas of his mission territory. Through much prayer and careful planning, his dream of the establishment of a hospital on the Tungshan compound near Canton became a reality. Pastor Ham remained in Canton as Mission Superintendent until the mid-1930’s, when he was moved to Hong Kong again, as Superintendent of the South China Union Mission. Mrs. Ham remained at his side as mother, teacher, nurse, hostess, and friend, throughout his years of service.
In Hong Kong, Pastor Ham, supported by a faithful, hard-working team of Union and local leaders, both Chinese and overseas, under the power of the Holy Spirit, continued to give strong leadership to the work of the church in fulfilling the Gospel Commission in South China. It was during his tenure as Union president that he laid the groundwork for the Pioneer Memorial Church in Happy Valley in Hong Kong, in honor of a long line of pioneers. Heading the list was Abram LaRue, the colporteur layman who started seed-sowing back in 1888.
Pastor Ham remained at his post, with other members of his team, when Pearl Harbor and the war with Japan put a stop to the work of overseas missionaries by interning them. During this difficult time, the love and support of the Chinese workers were God’s hands and heart, keeping the interned ones alive and encouraged, and was His and their way of expressing their appreciation of the love and sacrifice of the overseas workers’ years of selfless service. Pastor Ham’s heart was indeed “knit with” the hearts of his Chinese brothers and sisters, and they remained as his personal friends throughout his life.
After the war disrupted the work of overseas missionaries, and while the capable Chinese workers carried on in China, Pastor Ham was transferred to the Southern Asia Division as president in 1942. He remained in that position for two terms until 1950 when he was elected as one of the General Vice-Presidents of the General Conference, a position which he held until his retirement in 1958.
Pastor Ham passed to his rest on the evening of May 27, 1974, at the age of 83. That very day, as some of his Chinese friends visited him in the hospital, he brightened up and greeted them with joy! Mrs. Ham died a few months later on February 8, 1975, at the age of 84.
Pastor Ham’s daughter adds her personal recollections of her father:
“My earliest recollections of my father in China are of his long and frequent absences from home. While he was away on his itineraries, we ate Chinese food—rice, bean sprouts, bean cakes, bok choy, lam goks, and a sprinkling of other delicacies. But when he came home, we had to eat “American” food. As children, we much preferred the former.
Daddy was plagued with malaria during most of his years in China. Neither Mother nor I ever contracted it. We seemed to be the “tough” ones. I have a picture of my father during his first term in China where he looked like a ghost. After his first furlough, he seemed to have better health, though still bothered with frequent bouts of malaria.
As mission director, my father took his responsibilities seriously. He had the greatest respect for the Chinese people. If there were problems, we never heard of it. In fact, during all our growing-up years, I never remember hearing any criticism of any one in our home. We children were required to show the utmost respect to the Chinese people, regardless of their station or work. As a result, I still consider them to be the finest people on earth. My parents’ great love for the Chinese people in whose land they had come to live and share the gospel, had a profound influence on my own life. Even in my early childhood, I longed to be able to share the gospel with everyone I saw who was not a Christian. Even in my dreams, I converted my kidnappers!
I remember one day a village mother was weeping just outside our compound. I was told her baby had died, and she was weeping at its grave. How I longed to tell her of Jesus, and the hope of the Christian. There was Al Lum who did all the buying of fresh fruit and vegetables for all the mission families. We liked him so much. But he never openly accepted Jesus. I felt very keenly about it.
Though my father was generally very serious, he had his moments of laughter and fun. He told me about his first attempt to pray in Chinese. He said he got along very well until he came the ending. He just could not remember how to end the prayer. So he prayed on and on, struggling to remember what he was supposed to say. Finally, one of the Chinese brethren realized his problem, and whispered the proper word to him, and he ended his long prayer. Years later, we sat together at a piano concert. The pianist played a very long piece. Again and again, it seemed the tiresome piece would end, only to start up with gusto again. I turned to Daddy and whispered that it reminded me of the first time he had tried to pray in Chinese. He got a good laugh out of that.
Though my father was generally very serious, he had his moments of laughter and fun. He told me one time about his first attempt to pray in Chinese. He said he got along very well until he came to the ending. He just could not remember how to end the prayer. So he prayed on and on, struggling to remember what he was supposed to say. Finally, one of the Chinese brethren realized his problem, and whispered the proper word to him, and he ended his long prayer. Years later, he and I sat together at a piano concert. The pianist played a very long piece. Again and again, it seemed the tiresome piece would end, only to start up with gusto again. I turned to Daddy and whispered that it reminded me of the first time he had tried to pray in Chinese. He got a good laugh out of that.
There were times when my father took time to “play” with us children. We had many tussles and friendly wrestling matches. He enjoyed a good clean joke, even at his own expense. One time at the table, he needed a napkin to wipe his mustache. Not seeing one, he used a slice of bread, thinking we children were not looking. But we caught him in the act and all had a good laugh.
My mother was the quiet type. But she greatly enjoyed her girls in the school. She was nurse to them when they were sick, and often comforted them and counseled them. She taught some of them to play the organ, and later taught classes in English and Algebra in the school. As the wife of the mission director, she received a small stipend for her services. The other missionary wives received nothing. So she divided what she received with the others. I never knew that until many years later when my father told me.
After my mother’s brother, Lyle Wilcox, and family came to Canton, my aunt took over the teaching of the organ and piano lessons. This was a relief to mother, as she never considered herself to be much of a musician. My father has always given much credit to my uncle, Elder Wilcox, for the strong spiritual tone in the school and mission. He was a very earnest speaker. He also started a small band in which my father attempted to play the trombone. Daddy always wished he could sing, and sometimes he would try as I accompanied him. His favorite piece was “Face to Face.” But my aunt was a beautiful singer, and he loved to hear her sing.
Missionaries in those early years made great sacrifices in order to carry the gospel to those in parts of the world who had not had the light that the story of Jesus brings. Yet I do not remember hearing them speak of the sacrifices. There was no air mail or air travel in those days. It took weeks for letters to pass form one continent to another. We always looked forward to these letters and to the packages that came from time to time. We ordered clothing from Montgomery Wards, and family members sent needed items. Often aged parents had to be left in the care of other family members, brothers and sisters. These faithful ones surely share in the fruits of the mission successes. Those who “stay by the stuff” will share equally in the rewards of service.
My father was in Hong Kong at the time of the Japanese occupation. His internment was hard on his health. But God saw fit to allow it, and shortly after his return to the United States on the exchange of prisoners, he was sent to Southern Asia Division as president. While he loved the people of Southern Asia, he never lost his love and respect for the people of China. It was a great comfort to him to hear reports of the faithfulness of those he had known and worked with.
While in India, he had typhus fever and other physical problems which weakened his constitution. Yet God had even broader fields of service for him as General Conference Field Secretary and Vice President.
During his retirement years, he was always greatly cheered by visits from his friends from old China. I think our whole familthink of themselves as Chinese. In fact, when I was very young on our furlough, I told everyone I was Chinese.
Daddy passed to his rest May 16, 1974 at the St. Helena Sanitarium and Hospital in California. He and mother rest side by side, awaiting the call of Jesus, which surely will be very soon. In that chariot of fire that transports us from Earth to Heaven, he will be looking for his Chinese family.