On our west Coast, particularly [of Vancouver Island, B.C.], a missionary cannot expect to live as city folks do. His life is filled with blood, sweat and tears, and he is never far from privation. He caanot phone the fuel company and ask for oil to be delivered to his tank in his backyard, from whence he derives his heat. The missionary must often go out and cut the wood from the forest, lug it home on his back, and then set fire to it, after having cut it to the required size for kindling and firewood. No automatic thermostats, or fancy gadgets are at the end of hs fingertips to do all the work without effort.! (An excerpt from the writings of Percy Wills biography, "Forging Ahead for God.")