Mary writes:

“As we left for Japan the first time: “All too soon the announcement came, ‘All visitors must leave the ship!’ We felt both the pain of separation from loved ones, and the anticipation of our life that stretched before us like the wide ocean. We threw paper streamers to the folks on the pier. At 9 PM the ship gave three deafening blasts, and the gangplank was raised. Slowly the ship began to move. We waved to family and friends and tugged at the streamers, wanting to hold on to the final connections as long as possible. As the last streamers dropped into the water, our last physical ties were gone. Soon those on the pier faded into small dots in the distance, leaving the blinking lights of North America bidding us farewell.”

“Armed with invitations, I embarked on my exciting journey inviting every woman in the neighborhood. Sixty homes later, I rushed home to tell Peter the exciting news. Every woman had agreed to come! Now I had another problem. A good one. How would they fit into our house? And how could I serve sixty women tea and refreshments? My worries soon dissipated. Six ladies showed up.”