I am unsure of the origin of this but it is an excellent read!

WHAT TWO HYMNS, ONE BIBLE, AND TWO MEN CAN DO WALKING WITH GOD

[NOTE: What follows is a first hand account of an encounter during the
heat of battle on Okinawa over a half century ago. But truly the story
is timeless and powerful. We hope it blesses you.]

It was early in 1945 when as a war correspondent on Okinawa I first
came upon Shimabuku, the strangest and most inspiring community I ever
saw. Huddled beneath its groves of banyan and twisted pine trees this
remote village of some 1000 souls was in the path of the “American”
advance and so received a severe shelling. But when an advance patrol
swept up to the village compound the GI’s stopped dead in their tracks.
Barring their way were two little old men; they bowed low and began to
speak. The battle hardened sergeant wary of tricks held up his hand and
summoned an interpreter. The interpreter shook his head. “I don’t get
it. Seems we’re being welcomed as “fellow Christians.” One says he’s
the mayor of the village and the other’s the schoolmaster. That’s a
Bible the older one has in his hand…

Guided by the two old men – Mojun Nakamura, the mayor, and Shosei Kina,
the schoolmaster – we cautiously toured the compound. We’d seen other
Okinawan villages uniformly down-at-the-heels and despairing; by
contrast this one shone like a diamond in a dung heap. Everywhere we
were greeted by smiles and dignified bows. Proudly the two old men
showed us their spotless homes, their terraced fields fertile and neat,
their storehouses and granaries, and their prized sugar mill.

Gravely the old men talked on and the interpreter said, “They’ve met
only one American before long ago. Because he was a Christian they
assume we are too – though they can’t quite understand why we came in
shooting.”

Piecemeal, the incredible story came out.

Thirty years before an American missionary on his way to Japan had
paused at Shimabuku. He’d stayed only long enough to make a pair of
converts, teach them a couple of hymns, leave them a Japanese translation
of the Bible and exhort them to live by it. They’d had no contact
with any Christian since. Yet during those 30 years, guided by the
Bible, they had managed to create a Christian democracy at its purest.
How had it happened?

Picking their way through the Bible, the two converts had found not
only an inspiring “Person” on whom to pattern a life but sound precepts
on which to base their society. They’d adopted the Ten Commandments as
Shimabuku’s legal code; the Sermon on the Mount as their guide to social
conduct.

In Kina’s school, the Bible was the chief literature; it was read daily
by all students and major passages were memorized. In Nakamura’s village
government, the precepts of the Bible were law. Nurtured on this Book a
whole generation of Shimabukans had drawn from it their ideas of human
dignity and of the rights and responsibilities of citizenship. The
result was plain to see.

Shimabuku for years had had no jail, no brothel, no drunkenness, no
divorce; there was a high level of health and happiness.

Next day the tide of battle swept us on. But a few days later, during
a lull, I requisitioned a jeep and a Japanese speaking driver and went
back to Shimabuku. Over the winding roads outside the village huge truck
convoys and endless lines of American troops moved dustily; behind
them lumbered armored tanks and heavy artillery. But inside Shimabuku
was an oasis of serenity.

Once again I strolled through the quiet village streets soaking up
Shimabuku’s calm. There was a sound of singing. We followed it and came
to Nakamura’s house where a curious religious service was under way.
Having no knowledge of churchly forms or ritual the Shimabukans had
developed their own. There was much Bible reading by Kina, repeated in
singsong fashion by the worshipers. Then came hymn singing. The tunes
of the two hymns the missionary had taught – “Fairest Lord Jesus” and
“All Hail The Power of Jesus’ Name” – had naturally suffered some
changes, but they were recognizable.

Swept up in the spirit of “All Hail the Power” we joined in. After
many prayers voiced spontaneously by people in the crowd, there was a
discussion of community problems. With each question Kina turned quickly
to some Bible passage to find the answer. The book’s imitation leather
cover was cracked and worn, its pages stained and dog-eared from 30
years’ constant use. Kina held it with the reverent care one would use
in handling the original Magna Carta.

The service over, we waited as the crowd moved out and my driver
whispered hoarsely, “So this is what comes out of only a Bible and a
couple of old guys who wanted to live like Jesus!” Then, with a glance
at a shell hole, he murmured, “Maybe we’re using the wrong kind of
weapons.”

Time had dimmed the Shimabukans’ memory of the missionary; neither Kina
nor Nakamura could recall his name. They did remember his parting
statement. As expressed by Nakamura, it was: “Study this Book well. It
will give you strong faith. And when faith is strong, everything is
strong!”