Milly

After the Ambush, 1959

Psalm 46:1 “God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.” We had read this verse, we had heard sermons on it, we had even quoted it, but all through the attack, we experienced it. God never left us nor forsook us. His presence was so wonderful and so moving, that the entire tragedy was worth experiencing His reality.

It amazed me that Ted had no ill will toward the men who had attacked him. I, however, struggled with feelings of ill will. For example, while Ted was hospitalized, a visitor came to his room.

“I come with a message from Fidel Castro,” he announced, “who wants you to know he’s very sorry about what happened.”

“Well, who are you?” I asked.

“I’m a Presbyterian minister.”

“Well, you’re in the wrong army, aren’t you?” I asked impertinently, but honestly as he turned red with embarrassment and changed the subject.

After he left I asked Ted, “Darling, do you think the ‘snakes’ that were prophesied to surround and harm you were Fidel Castro’s men in the ambush?”

“I will never think of those young men as snakes, Milly. They are precious souls that the Savior longs to bring to Himself.”

“Should we leave Cuba?” I continued with my questions.

“Cuba is our home, and our work is here. Where would we go?”

“The doctors here say that they can do nothing about the bullet still in your jaw. It’s too near your facial nerve. They say that we need to get you to more experienced doctors in the United States,” I replied.

“Well, the revolution is still on. There are soldiers on every road, and we could get shot again if we went out on the streets. I think that for right now we should stay here. If the opportunity presents itself, we can consider leaving.”

We received a telegram through the Red Cross: “Come Home. D&D Missionary Homes, St. Petersburg, Florida.”

“Come home to Florida?” Ted asked in amazement. “We’re British!”

The British government offered to get us out of Cuba, but we replied, “No, thank you. We’re all right. We’re biding our time, and will get out as soon as God leads.”

A couple days later we received another telegram from D&D Missionary Homes: “Come ye apart and rest awhile. Don’t bring a thing. Everything is ready.” As I read this short message to Ted we both sat in wonderment. Who could these people be?

“Obviously they’re Christians, and seem prepared to take care of us if we leave Cuba,” I mused.

Ted was released from the clinic and I put him to bed at home, glad for my years of nurses’ training. Marguerite was also allowed to return home and I spent a few minutes each day across the street with the Hearns. Marguerite’s feet were improving daily.

One morning Marguerite said, “You know, Milly, the ambush brought me back to Jesus.” How true God’s Word is: (Romans 8:28) All things work together for our good. Peace flooded me, and I knew that it would work for us that way, too.

A week went by. Suddenly the Rebels withdrew. The roads opened, and there was communication again to Havana. Ted and I agreed that we should take the opportunity to leave the country. We would accept the D&D hospitality, but what funds did we have to get us there?

Throughout our years as missionaries, the Lord had supplied what we needed as we needed it. However, the month before the accident an unusual amount of money had come in from donors who never had sent money before. I remembered asking Ted, “What is this money for?”

“I don’t know,” he had replied, “but until it becomes clear, we’ll just set it aside.”

Again God had provided for our needs. After the ambush we were able to pay the doctors, the hospitals and still had enough to pay for our flight from Cuba.

“I don’t know who the friendly people in Florida are, but we’re soon going to find out,” Ted mused tiredly as our plane taxied to the runway at the Havana airport.

John Casteel, son of Richard Casteel, a fellow Cuban missionary, kindly drove our station wagon to Havana. He got our vehicle on a ferry, then met us in Miami with it. He drove us up to St. Petersburg to a big surprise. Two former Belgian Congo missionaries, Alma Doering and Stella Dunkleberger, both 90 year old “retired” missionaries, had set up several comfortable homes for missionaries to use when they needed a rest. (The “D&D” name was taken from the first letter of the last names of its cofounders.)

I helped to care for Alma Doering until she went home to God in her sleep a few months later. We were blessed to sing at her funeral.

At this time we could have gone across the country to speak with a full schedule, since there were many people who wanted to hear Ted share his experiences. However, he wasn’t physically able. He couldn’t open his mouth more than ½” and was able to eat only soft foods. Loud noises also disturbed him.

The D&D Missionary Homes personnel were true to their word and met our every need. One day as I looked through the many boxes of donated food, I could not find two things that I wanted, honey and shortening. I needed the honey to make a hot drink for Ted, the shortening for Christmas cookies.

I feel sorry for those who don’t believe in miracles. I’ve found God performs them quite regularly. As I was looking for the honey and shortening, a knock sounded at our door. When I opened it, there stood an old man with a pot of honey in one hand and a can of shortening in the other! He said, “I don’t know why I brought these, but I’m Dr. Coopernale from New York, and I’d like to offer you my services.” He became a wonderful friend and helped us in many ways.

Vic Graham, the minister from the church in Calgary, Canada, flew down to pray for my husband. After prayer, Ted’s jaw released, and his mouth could move. How we rejoiced! Later, when we went to get Ted an American driver’s license, we learned that the sight in his remaining eye had improved to 20/20!

We then needed to decide whether Ted ought to have surgery to remove the lodged bullet in his jawbone. The risks were high since the facial nerve was very close to where the doctors would have to remove the bullet. After prayer and discussion, since Ted had no pain and had full range of movement in his jaw, we decided to leave the bullet where it was. For 40 years the bullet has lodged in his jawbone with no discomfort. However, it is still there! It can be seen in x-rays.

A lady from Canada wrote to us while we were in St. Petersburg. She informed us that on the night of the ambush, after returning from church, at the precise time we were being shot, she had gone to her well for water.

“To my surprise,” she wrote, “when I stopped pumping the well, I started speaking in tongues. I found myself interceding for the life of Ted Ware. I stayed there until I got freedom in my heart to stop.”

Another woman, a schoolteacher in Seattle, wrote us at our Cuban address. The letter was forwarded and reached us some time later. “What happened to you in November? God has filled my heart with a love for you that has kept me praying for you daily.”

There were many others. From all over the world and from many denominations we learned we had been prayed for, not only at the time of the ambush, but faithfully over the years. To them we say, “You sowed and we reaped, but we both rejoice in the fruit of His hand.”