How I Met Sam Part 5

I knew nothing about this Sam Logan, but had been impressed with what he shared at the Breaking of Bread and how joyful he seemed. I could tell he had a genuine desire to please God and demonstrated a sincere love for Him. I thought he would not be returning to our small fellowship, since usually Bas has out-of-town guests who only stay a week or two. I did not know that he was living and working just north of the Hong Kong border in China, and was planning to stay for a year or more.
I began my classes and adjusted to Hong Kong living once again. Two weeks after arriving in Hong Kong we had a severe typhoon. The neighbours whose house was attached and adjacent to ours were hostile and more than unfriendly. They accused my parents of polluting their outside drain as it ran behind both our houses. My parents tried their best to keep a clear distance, but in typhoon situations, when the neighbours blocked the drain, it would cause flooding and damage to our house. It was the peak of the storm and the water was backing up and beginning to come into our house. My Dad was about to go out in the back of our house and remove the bricks that the neighbours had put to block the drain. I told him I could go instead, and I did. I hoped the neighbours would not be home or would not see me as I wanted no conflict. I only wanted to prevent flood damage. Unfortunately, they were home and when they saw what I was doing became angry and hostile. They came out their back door and began yelling at me in whatever English they could muster – mostly swear words. I was a bit nervous and so turned to leave when I felt a blow to the back of my head. I found myself a few minutes later on the wet ground, a bit dazed. I don’t know how long I was ‘out’ – to me it seemed like seconds. I picked myself up off the ground and went back inside, not knowing what had happened except my head hurt. When my Dad saw me covered in blood and drenching my shirt he was visibly upset. Apparently, in anger, the neighbours had clobbered me on the head with a brick causing a thick gash in my head. We called the police and they were arrested for questioning. I went to the hospital where I was laid on a cold metal table and told to be still while a needle was inserted into the open wound on the back of my head. A part was shaved and then stitched up. I am not sure what was worse – the stitches or the shaving. I can’t explain the humiliation of having a bald patch on the back of my head – thankfully my hair was long enough to pull back where it wouldn’t be seen, but I couldn’t do this initially as the wound was too painful. After questioning, the neighbours were released until a trial could be arranged.

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