12 A Vision of The Night
Chapter 12 A VISION OF THE NIGHT
"For God speaketh ... in a dream, in a vision of the night." Whatever theory the reader may entertain as to the origin and purpose of dreams, the following recital of one will, I think, be found not uninteresting. The lucid account contained in the following letter requires neither introduction nor explanation. I need only premise that it was written by Miss Elise Roper (now Mrs. Buttfield), a friend and helper of the Mission to Lepers, to Miss Pim.
"What place do you think dreams hold in our practical, everyday life? Do they always come as Solomon says, ’ through the multitude of business,’ or are they sometimes sent to direct our thoughts into a particular channel, or to concentrate them on some special object? Anyhow, I have learned something from dreams, and am going to tell you something about two little visions which have made Miss Reed a personal friend of mine, and the Asylum for Lepers at Pithora a reality it never was to me before. Miss Reed’s sad and interesting story lost none of its pathos in the hands of the narrator who told it me one evening the week before last. So the materials for my dreams were prepared for me before going to bed that night. As soon as I fell asleep I thought I was sitting in a room with a bare floor, bare walls, and with little or no furniture in it. One side of the room was entirely open on a veranda, supported at intervals by pillars, between which I looked out, and saw first a white, glaring, sun-dried strip of ground, at one side of which was another building. I could only see a corner from where I sat. Beyond this hot strip, and sloping downward from it, was a green and fertile country, and beyond that rose mountain peak after mountain peak, in exquisite and majestic beauty. I took this all in at once, while feeling oppressed with an overwhelming conviction that I had a lot of work to do ; indeed, I was in one of my inward fusses, knowing that I must get a great deal done, but not knowing in the least what to begin with. I knew I was in Miss Reed’s bungalow, and longed to make it snug for her in European style, with carpets, curtains, etc. While fuming over all I had to do and could not begin I became aware of a quiet presence in the room with me. It was a lady seated in a small armchair (the only article of furniture in the room besides the stool I sat on) a little way off from me and near the edge of the veranda. I knew that was Miss Reed, but did not feel the least surprised to find myself in her company. I could only see her profile, but her face seemed pale and thin, with small, delicate features, her hair — dark brown — was parted in the middle, and done in a knot, rather low down on the back of her head. I thought how interesting, quaint, and intellectual she looked, and felt glad she was able to take pleasure in the beautiful view which lay before her. Her right elbow was on the arm of her chair, and she rested her cheek on her right hand as she looked away from me into the distance before her. She was dressed in some sort of an indefinite loose garment, and altogether looked the perfect picture of calmness and repose, while I frizzled all over with an irrepressible longing to go at something or another in the way of work.
’’’Miss Reed,’ I said, feeling as though I were continuing a conversation began before. "I want to begin at once, what can I do? ’Thank you,’ said Miss Reed, quietly, ’ I really don’t think you can do anything just now. I shall soon have everything I want, and am most happy.’ ’ But look here,’ said I, feeling quite exasperated, ’ you must let me do something for you. Why, you want everything here, carpets, chairs, curtains. You haven’t anything nice about you.’ She half turned toward me at this, and seemed rather amused, for she smiled, and then said, ’ Oh, you know the Mission to Lepers has given me a grant of five-pence for a muslin curtain, and that really is all I want. I shall put it up there.’ And she pointed to the space in front of her chair, between it and the open veranda. Here I made a few confused calculations as to how much art muslin it would take to drape the space prettily, and how far the Society’s grant of five-pence would go in the purchase of this material. I then began to reflect, also confusedly, on her marvellous contentment, which kept her calm and happy with so much discomfort about her. During these meditations she and the room faded away, then I dropped into a dreamless sleep, or awoke, I am not sure which, but the feeling of longing for scope for my energy went on, and I hated myself for doing nothing. Suddenly I was in the bare room again, and saw Miss Reed standing before me, looking most animated and business-like. Her full face was toward me this time, and now I saw on the right cheek, which before had been turned away, a large, dark colored patch, which I felt was the mark of that dreadful disease with which she is afflicted. Beside her was a great tub of water, and she was busy tucking up her skirt preparatory, I thought, to scrubbing the floor. I seized this opportunity for using up some of the energy I was pining to devote to her cause, and, dashing forward, laid hold of the tub with a triumphant feeling of having at last got something to do. But alas ! in the moment of triumph, the much longed-for opportunity slipped from me — the tub refused to be grasped, and I awoke with a start to find that my ’ Mission to Lepers ’ was as yet unaccomplished, but with a very vivid impression of having had a real interview with Miss Reed. I shall never meet her in the flesh, but from this time forward will ever feel the deepest sympathy with her in the sad affliction God has permitted to come upon her, and also take special interest in her work among the poor lepers of Pithora."
It would appear from the following letter of grateful thanks that this particular dream did not vanish "like the baseless fabric of a vision and leave not a wrack behind." Unlike most dreams (either of the day or night), it seems to have resulted in some tangible tokens of interest in Miss Reed and her afflicted flock. Under date of December 20th, 1892, she writes to Miss Roper :
’’It would be impossible for me to tell how delighted I was to receive your letter ten days ago, and the beautiful expressions of united love of the little circle who prepared the petty ’trifles,’ as you call them, contained in the box, which received a welcome last evening. Each of you must have been greatly blessed indeed by Him, ’ who is not unrighteous to forget your labor of love which you have shown toward His name,’ for has He not told us, ’It is more blessed to give than to receive.’ And since the expressions of your kindly thoughts and wishes have been such a blessing to my heart, how greatly, I say, you must have been blessed in giving. These precious gifts are more highly valued because I am sure our loving Heavenly Father prompted you to this kind act, and so I give a grateful and cordial welcome to the love which designed and prepared these memorials — and they are all so beautiful to, as well as useful. I do admire the selection of these delicate colors, and am so pleased with all the articles, each of which is most acceptable. This beautiful art muslin will be useful in draping two doors, instead of only the one you saw in your dream. (How very strange that you should dream about my little home.) One door leads from my little sitting-room into the east veranda, and the other into the veranda facing the west. I had no drapery for either. These beautiful mottoes are inscribed with precious texts which have so often comforted and cheered my heart. Over and over again, during the past two years, have I sung this favorite hymn (a copy of which I enclose) which has so voiced my experience, that it has become peculiarly sweet, since He has enabled me trustfully to say and to sing from the depths of my heart, ’ My times are in Thy hand.’ I find so much help and blessing in " My times are in Thy hand," My God, I wish them there ; My life, my friends, my soul, I leave Entirely to Thy care.
"My times are in Thy hand,"
Whatever they may be ;
Pleasing or painful, dark or bright. As best may seem to Thee.
"My times are in Thy hand ; "
Why should I doubt or fear ? My Father’s hand will never cause His child a needless tear.
"My times are in Thy hand,"
Jesus, the crucified ! The hand my cruel sins had pierced Is now my guard and guide.
"My times are in Thy hand ; "
I’ll always trust in Thee ;
And, after death, at Thy right hand I shall forever be. song, and from day to day, I prove that faith, hope, love, work and song, cause sorrow to depart.’ Oh, how my heart goes out in praise and gratitude to Him who so wonderfully verifies His blessed promise, ’Lo, I am with you alway.’ With me, not only keeping and blessing my own soul, but He has condescended to use me, a poor, weak instrument, in blessing others. Blessed, ever blessed be His Name! So many precious testimonies come to me through scores of letters received from known and unknown friends, telling me that our Father is graciously using the affliction He permits to come on me in touching hundreds of hearts, leading them to a deeper, fuller consecration to His service, of time, strength, means, and heart. The joy of being thus used for the advancement of His Kingdom is, to me, a richer feast than millions of those who enjoy health and all earth’s comforts can ever know. What infinite comfort and blessing in the blessed assurance that a wise and loving purpose underlies the mysterious providence which calls me to this special service for Christ.
"I presume that dear Mr. and Mrs. Bailey keep Miss Pim (our Hon. Sec.) informed about the growth of all the interests connected with this mission work, both here and elsewhere. I endeavor to write very frequently and very fully from this outpost, that they may be enabled to make real to all who are interested in the Mission the needs of my fellow-sufferers — no, I must not say fellow-sufferers, for though they do suffer so much, the great Physician has my case in hand, and so wonderfully hears and answers the believing, importunate prayers from multitudes of hearts being offered for me, that He wards off the pain, except now and again when He lets me know what they endure; but my heart suffers more with them than I could ever do, should this dread disease be allowed to run its course in this ’house of clay.’ So, in that sense, I am a fellow-sufferer, and oh ! how thankful am I, how humbly and devoutly thankful, that (I say it with reverence) He does use me in binding up the broken-hearted — to give unto them ’ beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness, that they might be called trees of righteousness, the planting of the Lord, that He might be glorified.’
"My letter is growing too long, but I would like to tell you before closing that my precious mother’s heart will be much touched by your loving-kindness. I shall send her your letter, and a description of each article your box contained, for no pleasure is complete for me unless, so far as it is possible, it is shared with her. And then, too, when I tell you that her mother was born at Strabane, in the North of Ireland (her maiden name, grandmama’s, was Anderson), do you not imagine her heart will be touched by the mementos coming from the land of her mother’s birthplace ?
"Now, with more gratitude than words can express to each of the dear sisters whose names you mentioned, and whom I shall love to think of as praying for this work so dear to my heart, and trusting that you will pray that I may have the abiding presence of the Holy Spirit, that I may be strengthened with all might according to His glorious power, unto all patience and long-suffering with joy fulness. " Believe me, "Yours very gratefully, " Mary Reed."