Category Archives: Love Story

Apr22

Post 51. So, how old is your fiance?

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I didn’t hear from Tony for about 2 weeks.  The mailbox was empty.  It was the longest I had to wait to get a letter from him.  I was upset.  I wondered if he had changed his mind.  Worse still, I wondered if he had met someone else.  My imagination ran wild. 

In the meantime, I loved my job in the engineering company in Johannesburg.  It took a while to get on with some of the German secretaries, especially Charlotte.  She was blunt and she felt it her duty to let everyone know exactly what she thought of them at any time.  No one liked her.  I made her my mission. She started to warm up to me and we became good friends. 

One day she asked me what my star sign was.  I told her I didn’t believe in horoscopes and such things.  She eventually got me to tell her when my birthday was.  She was surprised.  Apparently people under my star sign and people under her star sign didn’t get on; ever.  She had never met a person born under my star that she got on with; ever.  I didn’t fit into the “star” box.  She was surprised again when I told her what I was like as a child and how I was changing all the time.  She was concerned that Tony and I wouldn’t be compatible.  I assured her that he had also broken out of his box.  The stars had nothing to do with the changes that had taken place. They had no power to change anything.  She was fascinated.

Everyone in the office was involved in my love life. The guy who picked up the post from my desk teased me for running after Tony.   He could only see the letters going out.  He had no idea how many letters had been filling my mailbox at home.  

We had been writing for months and neither of us had thought about asking each other’s age.   After we got engaged by phone, cassette and letter, Tony thought he might as well find out.  The post guy in my office picked up my letter with the answer and posted it without a stamp.  It went to all the islands in South East Asia and it was weeks before Tony got it.  His friends in New Zealand were asking him how old his fiancé was.  He kept telling them he had no idea.  They thought he was crazy.  

It was two weeks before I heard from him.  When he called, his voice was shaky.  The police had come to their house and Tony was asked to go with them to identify a body in town.  It was his dad, Doug. He had died from a massive heart attack.  

Just a few months before that, Doug and Tony talked about their relationship, their differences and their issues.  Tony was able to totally forgive his dad.  It was a heavy, 24 year old weight off his shoulders. 

Doug had been into a big property deal in the centre of Auckland.  His risky, high powered life had taken its toll.  He was only 59. 

I felt helpless.  Tony was so emotional and I cried with him.   I felt awful for having been so selfish and also happy that we were in touch again.  He hadn’t changed his mind.  

Everyone wanted to know what was happening and when he was coming.  As soon as he had enough money; that was when he was coming.

Apr20

Post 50. Triple yes.

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Letters from New   Zealand were arriving fast and furiously.  They were diary letters.  Every event was written about and we got to know each other really well.  Tony’s dad Doug, wrote a couple of times and I fell in love with him too.  He talked a bit about the old Tony but talked lots about the new one and how happy he was that I was in his life.   Betty also wrote to me, quite concerned that I knew what I was getting myself into.  

We had been writing to each other for about a year and things were getting serious.  Tony was doing a course in a Bible College, painting houses and working in a restaurant.  He was saving up every penny to get a ticket to South Africa. 

Before he came he had to make sure it wasn’t going to be a waste of time and money.   We arranged to fast together over a weekend.  On Monday evening, Cathie Beattie and I were lolling around in the lounge when the phone rang.  It was Tony.  We had a brief chat about life in general and then he said, “I love you and I really want to marry you.  Will you marry me?”  

Cathy was watching me from the couch.  She heard me say in a very calm voice, “I would love to.”  

Her eyes got bigger and she stood up waiting for me to put the phone down.   “So???” 

“He asked me to marry him.” 

“What! How can you be so calm!?” 

We started to hug and jump around the lounge, screaming with excitement. 

That wasn’t enough for Tony.  He needed to make sure he wasn’t going to get to South Africa and be sent home.  Within a week he asked the same question on a cassette and in a letter.  I said yes three times. 

I was sure about him, but for a little while there, I wasn’t sure I wanted to give up my single life.  I had always said I wanted to get married at 25.  Now I was 25 and I was having doubts.  I put my concerns in a letter.  I was happy being single.  I loved my life.  I was busy and content.  Did I really want my life to change? His calm reply calmed me down and I started to get excited about being married. 

One of the big things we had talked about was his call to India.  Before he asked me to marry him he asked me if I was willing to live in India with him.  He made it clear that if my answer was no, we could not go ahead with our relationship.  He didn’t want to drag his wife kicking and screaming to India.  I was willing to go anywhere and so that was settled.  

It sounded so simple.  We were going to get married and move to India. 

 

Apr10

Post 41. Snail mail and cassettes

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Rolleston Place was smaller than ever.  Val had painted my room a pale pink and put all kinds of Holly Hobby figures all over it.  It was like going back to my childhood.  They were so happy to have me home.  I had gone from 48- 55kgs and they loved every bit of me.

I also arrived home to a huge bouquet of flowers and a marriage proposal.  “I know I haven’t been in touch with you for the past two years, but I want you to be my wife.  Will you?  Love, Ian.” Wilf and Val were hovering and hopeful.  I couldn’t believe the cheek.  I gave Val the flowers and put the note in the bin.

Being back in my neighbourhood was hard.  It was difficult to connect with people.  Not many were interested in my travels or experiences and not many questions were asked.  It was as if I hadn’t gone anywhere.

While I was away, Dave and Bev got married and Rigby and Sue had moved to Johannesburg to take on a small church.  Peter was working in a bank in Pietermaritzburg.  The house was quiet and I felt isolated.

I took a few months off then started to look for a job.   I accepted one with YFC and was going to start the following month.  At the same time, Rigby and Sue called and invited me to join them in Johannesburg.  It seemed to be the right thing to do so I called YFC to apologise and made my plans to move to the big city.

Tony had replied to my subtle note.  A few times actually.  Wilf and Val wondered about all the post arriving in our little tin post box.   They knew something was brewing.

Tony wasn’t going to mess around.  He did not want another girlfriend; he had had enough of those.  He was serious.   In one of his first letters he made it clear.   In the only way he knew, he said “I guess I am asking for Social Permission”.  I wasn’t going to make it easy so I replied, “What exactly do you mean by that?”   He made it clear he had marriage in mind.

By the time I moved from No 28 things were in full swing.  We were in a “serious long distance relationship.”  My address changed and Rigby and Sue had to deal with all the mail in their mailbox.

I applied for a receptionist job in an engineering company in Sandton and got it.  I worked for three companies; M.A.N, Sieva and Alsthom.   I was surrounded by naughty Germans and Frenchmen and I felt right at home.

Every day, just before lunch time, I called home to ask if any mail had arrived for me.  If the answer was yes, I jumped into my little blue VW beetle and drove home as fast as I could.  I grabbed my letter, jumped back in the car and read at every stop light, all the way back to work.   There were so many letters, I did that trip most week days.

Cassettes were my favourite.  Tony would chat and sing songs he had written.  He told me all about his day and night and everything in between.   I listened to them over and over again; especially the one where he farted while he was talking.  I couldn’t believe my ears.

He commented and laughed, but seriously, did he not know about rewinding and erasing?  I kept rewinding to make sure I had heard correctly.  I laughed so much.  That clinched it for me.  I knew we were going to have lots of fun.

I looked at the qualities I had written down years before.  He was everything I wanted in a husband.  He even played the guitar.

There were just two things I wondered about:

1. He wasn’t a pastor.

2. He was called to live in India.  Was I?

Apr9

Post 40. Match making

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I was exhausted.  My aunt and uncle wanted to show me the sights of London but I just wanted to sleep.  A week later my English friend Liz invited me to visit her in Belgium before I went home.  I got on the ferry and crossed the English Channel.

I had been in Belgium once before.  We had done a road trip through Spain and France.  On the way we met a team led by Normand Saidon.

My sweet friend Henriette had left the ship a few months before me and she was in a state.  From the day she had walked onto the ship, she knew she would marry Normand.  He was one of the busy, choleric types who didn’t seem to have any time or interest in romance.  She kept it to herself for two years.  In her last week, she tearfully blurted her dilemma out to me.  He didn’t give her the time of day and didn’t seem to know she existed.  She needed to know.  If she was wrong, then she would forget all about him.  If she was right, maybe he needed some prodding.

Henriette and I had been writing to each other and I asked her if I could chat to Normand about it.  She reluctantly agreed.  She didn’t know of any other way.

When our teams met up, I pulled Normand aside and told him Henriette had said hi.  His response was “Who is Henriette?  Oh, the South African girl.”  I told him what she had told me and he agreed to send her his newletter.  How romantic, I thought.  One newsletter turned into another and before we knew it, they were writing to each other.  He fell head over heels in love.

On my second trip to Belgium, I thought Tony may need some help.  He had no way of contacting me and I wondered how we would stay in touch.  He seemed to be very cautious about being in a relationship.

Liz was sending him her newsletter, so I scribbled a note at the bottom of it.

“Hi Tony, I’m with Liz and I saw her writing to you.  Have a good trip back to India.  Please send me your newsletter.  My address is:  28   Rolleston Place, Woodlands, Durban.  Linda”

One newsletter turned into another and before we knew it, we were writing to each other.

Quite subtle, I thought; quite subtle.

Apr8

Post 39. Tony? Tony who?

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Oh, Tony Johnson!   I only knew one Tony. He was the cute Kiwi boy.  I had heard his amazing story at conferences and he sang really well.  He was Robin Glass’s best friend.  Robin was the funny, tall, curly-haired, Brazilian/English guy.

I was living in Liverpool, waiting for the ship to arrive.  It had been weeks since I was on the ocean and I missed it.  I wondered about Tony.  What would it be like seeing him, knowing what I had heard?  Why would he be interested anyway?

The ship arrived and it was busy.  No time to sit around thinking about love and romance.  I was up and down the gangway, taking care of people who thought they were important and making sure they were fed and shown around.  I didn’t see Tony at all.

Late one night as we were leaving the ship, I heard someone playing a guitar and singing.  We walked around the corner and it was Tony.  He smiled so I stopped and commented on the stars.  He asked how things were going and I told him.  A lot happened that night and we hadn’t even broken the five minute rule.

He had been observing me for months.  We had a joint girls and guys Bible Study and we had talked about marriage.  I had made a comment something like, “When I get married I am going to love my husband more than anyone else in the world.”  Tony could not imagine being loved that way.  He wanted to volunteer.  On another occasion I spoke with the shipmates about something that was going on in my life.  He liked my honesty and vulnerability.

Over the next few months, there were occasions when we had short conversations.  A few times we found ourselves at the same dining room table, talking about the weather with 6 other people.

My two years on the ship was up.  I had stayed on 6 months extra to do the PR work on land.  It was time to go home.  I was visiting one of the families and Tony happened to be fixing their door lock.  He was invited to join us for tea and that was when we had our last and longest conversation.

Tony:  So what are your plans?  What will you do when you leave the ship?

Me:  (With a smile on my face) I am going back to South  Africa to marry a pastor.  What about you?

Tony:  I am going back to India.  That is where I am called to be.

The conversation went on.  He had never considered being a pastor and I had never considered living in India.  We were both so confident about where we were going and they were opposite directions.

It was time for me to leave the Doulos; my home for two and a half years.  My aunt and uncle had come to pick me up in Hull and they were taking me to their place in Kent.  I walked around for the last time, saying tearful goodbyes to the kids and their parents and all the amazing friends I had made.

As I was walking out of the door, Tony came up the stairs in his overalls looking very flustered.  We said goodbye and I walked down the gangway.

On the road again.

On the road again.

The ship sailed away and I stood on the quayside waving goodbye and crying my eyes out.  Tony was there and we waved and smiled.  I knew where he was going and he knew where I was going.  We had no idea how we were ever going to see each other again, but we knew we would.

Little did I know that Tony had been running around the ship trying to find a leader to get permission to ask if he could speak to me.  He had left it too late.

Little did I know that Tony Johnson was asking God if I could be his wife.