14 Light and Shade

Chapter 14

LIGHT AND SHADE

(1898) The Autumn of 1897 found Miss Reed so weary and worn physically that she was at length obliged to seek relief from further service as a missionary of the American Society, whose representative she had been since her arrival in India in 1884. The severe demands of her special work among the lepers, together with the subtle inroads of disease, had at length made this step imperative. The final severance of official relations with her old Society did not, however, take place till October, 1898, at which date Miss Reed entered upon undivided service for the Mission to Lepers in India and the East. The committee gratefully recognized the valuable service she had already rendered them, and thankfully accepted her offer of entire devotion to their special work. When it is borne in mind that the management of this large institution devolved upon Miss Reed, assisted only by one caretaker and one servant, both natives, it will be recognized that work, more than enough for the strongest, lay ready to her hand. The supply of sufficient and suitable food, the simple, but very necessary, medical treatment, the directly religious work, comprising many services, classes, and meetings for prayer, the correspondence and bookkeeping, the general supervision — all these, plus the incessant incidental claims upon time, strength, and sympathy, surely demand an expenditure of physical and spiritual energy which can only be made good by "the supply of the Spirit of Jesus Christ," and by a constant waiting upon God for the renewal of daily strength. In a letter to the headquarters of her Society in America, Miss Reed says : "I must be free after October 10th, 1898, from the very unsatisfactory effort I have been making for nearly seven years to serve in two capacities. . . . From my childhood I could never do things by halves, and have a satisfied heart and mind, and as the years have passed since I came to these Heights I have found the effort to do two things, . e.f serve under the auspices of two Societies, increasingly difficult. And now that disease — though so slightly manifest outwardly, thank God for His tender mercy — affects my throat more and more, and preys upon my system, I do not feel equal, physically or mentally, to try longer to serve in two capacities. And, whereas I have recently been adopted by the entire Committee of the Mission to Lepers ... I trust you will give me leave to reply that this change may take place on October 1st, 1898. I fix that date in order to complete my fourteen years in connection with the W. F. M. Society. I shall ever continue, as I have time and strength given, over and above that needed for the special service for which I have been ’set apart,’ to help, when and where I can, in this end of the earth — so full of opportunities to proclaim salvation, full and free, through Jesus Christ our Lord."

Very brief quotations from the replies of the two Secretaries of the American Society will suffice to show that the facts of the case were recognized by them, and that they regarded Miss Reed’s request as a reasonable one.

Mrs. Cowen writes in terms of warm appreciation and continues, " I am glad you have given up, or will give up, your double work. It has been too much for any woman to do and do justice to herself, even if she had good health."

Mrs. Stevens says : " I am confident that the work of the Mission (to Lepers) is all you can do without over-burdening yourself, and we would not have you do that."

These frank and kindly assurances enabled Miss Reed to enter hopefully on the closing period of her dual service, during which time considerable itinerating work was accomplished in the regions lying around the Shor district, among the many villages of which Miss Reed had now for seven years gone teaching and preaching Jesus Christ, and whence doubtless fruit of her efforts will be seen in the day when every laborer’s work shall be made manifest. From an interesting letter, dated June 16th, 1898, we take the following extract :

’’ This is an exquisitely beautiful morning — clouds and sunshine chase each other over the mountains, hills, and valleys that lie within my range of vision. There is a break in the rains to-day — the monsoon set in up here in May this year, a whole month earlier than usual. I have brought my writing materials, with chair and table, into the front (east) veranda to get the benefit of the delicious atmosphere and to enjoy the beauty of the fleecy, flitting clouds, and the smiling landscape, of which I have a magnificent view from my lofty and lovely abiding-place.

" As I have been writing to you, and looking out now and again upon the beautiful scene before me, I have recalled to mind a gem from Ruskin, he who so loves the true, the beautiful, and the good. I must share it with you — so here it is, an extract from one of my treasures : " There is not a moment in any day of our lives when Nature is not producing scene after scene, picture after picture, glory after glory, and working still upon such exquisite and constant principles of the most perfect beauty, that it is quite certain that it is all done for us and intended for our perpetual pleasure. The sky is fitted, in all its functions, for the perpetual comfort and exalting of the heart ; for soothing it, and purifying it from its dross and dust. Sometimes gentle, sometimes capricious, sometimes awful; almost human in its passions, almost spiritual in its tenderness, almost Divine in its infinity, its appeal to what is immortal in us is as distinct as its ministry of chastisement or of blessing to what is mortal is essential. " But when we turn from the lovely and suggestive scenes of nature in some of her sublimest aspects, to the effects of sin and disease on what should be the noblest part of God’s creation, sad reflections await us. In this same letter we read of an event which (and not for the first time) deeply grieved the heart of this friend of the friendless. This was the flight from the sheltering, though at the same time restraining, care of the Asylum, of two couples who broke away, there is too much cause to fear, to a life of sin. Since separate quarters had been provided for the male inmates at Panahgah, in 1895, Miss Reed had been spared this particular form of trouble. Being both missionary and mother to her flock, such a trial as this would in any case have been keenly felt, but it derived an added pang from the circumstance that one of the runaways was a young girl, only thirteen years of age, of whom Miss Reed had made a special companion, and for whom she felt a special affection. While she could be kept in close association with her benefactress this poor child was safe and happy, but the disease had in time so disfigured her that her transfer to the women’s quarters was absolutely necessary. Here she fell under the evil influence of a wicked and hypocritical woman, who finally induced three others to accompany her in her flight. (It may be added that this girl and her companion, a young man of eighteen, have both since returned with professions, apparently sincere, of penitence and regret.) Such an incident need occasion no surprise, and should certainly suggest no question as to the kind supervision exercised in this or in any of the Asylums of the Mission to Lepers. The inevitable restraint and mild discipline of institutional life form a contrast to the unbridled license of the homeless leper’s wandering existence. Herding together in encampments or colonies, these outcasts from the common life are exempt alike from moral influence and legal supervision. In thousands and thousands of cases the one thing the authorities do for these miserable people is — to leave them alone! Losing by their leprosy almost all that makes life dear, they gain liberty, at least, and who can wonder that liberty with them means license to live as they list — a law unto themselves? Gathered in, in most cases, from an existence of aimless wandering and unbridled restraint, it speaks eloquently of the kindness and comfort they meet with in the Asylums that instances of flight are so rare. The following testimony, given recently by His Honor the Lieutenant Governor of Bengal, respecting the Society’s large asylum at Purulia may be quoted here, as it would apply with equal force to the institution under Miss Reed’s care : " I have been greatly impressed by my visit to this asylum. It has now upward of 500 inmates, and the sight of so great a company of stricken people would have been most distressing had it not been for the surprising contentment of their bearing. No leper is sent by the authorities, and no wall prevents an inmate from leaving, and yet the numbers rapidly grow — evidence of the constant kindness and sympathy with which the poor creatures are treated. I have seen no more truly benevolent work in India than this." The question of occupation and medical treatment are of great importance in connection with work among lepers. Any form of work, or even of pastime, which relieves the tedium of their weary days and gives them the sense of being useful is helpful to them, acting, as it does, as a kind of mental tonic. But it is only in the earlier stages of the malady that they are capable of even the simplest forms of labor. Writing of some of her less afflicted inmates, Miss Reed says : " Every day, from nine o’clock to four or five p. m., they graze the cows. I arranged this that they might be kept in the pure air, and as much as possible away from those in whom the disease has made more headway. I give them in the first stages medicine three times a day, to arrest further progress as long as it may be possible. They are all improving so nicely. There is now not one mark on Punnia, except a faint reddish tinge occasionally on her cheeks where there were marks when first the disease appeared." Gardening is both a pleasant and useful form of occupation for those less affected, who are also encouraged to do all in their power for others who have become practically helpless. At the close of 1898 Miss Reed reports twenty inmates as either able to read or learning to do so, nearly half of this number having learned since their admission. Two interesting and encouraging Bible classes were also being conducted by Miss Reed — one at Chandag Heights for the women and girls, and one at Panahgah for the men and boys. In addition to these classes and other services, the children in the little community were being taught to read, and were learning to be helpful to others. Of the seventy-nine inmates at the end of the year, fifty-five were Christians and twenty-four non-Christians. Nine died during the twelve months, of whom six gave good evidence that they passed away in the faith of Christ and in hope of a perfect life hereafter. Among the new admissions were two girls, — one from distant Meerut, and the other from Bareilly — the latter from a Girls’ Boarding School in connection with the Methodist Episcopal Mission.