08 A Welcome Visitor
Chapter 8 A WELCOME VISITOR
While we cannot too much admire the fortitude and hopefulness, arising from the spring of Divine grace in her heart, which have enabled Miss Reed to minimize the trials of her suffering life and of her isolated lot, yet to ignore the darker side of her experience (as she would have us to do) would be to convey an imperfect impression of her life. Let the reader endeavor to realize the position for a moment. Here is a woman, by nature of a most sensitive habit, instinctively inclined to shrink from physical suffering, especially when of a visible and loathsome kind. Herself mysteriously overtaken by this dread disease whose victims she knows are without hope of human remedy, she is surrounded by a community of doomed beings who are cut off from the rest of mankind, with no longer any share in the hopes and interests of healthy humanity. Think of the burden laid upon her of caring for the souls, as well as for the bodies, of her afflicted flock, of pleading with the indifferent, of reproving the evil-minded, of restoring the backsliding, of cheering the downcast, and of striving to awaken the dormant faculties of these despairing people to the possibilities of spiritual cleansing and newness of life, still, through the Divine love open to them. And there has to be added to the daily trials of faith and patience inseparable from such a position the bitterest pang of all, viz, the certainty that the same subtle, relentless enemy whose foul handiwork she sees around her at every turn is at work in herself, and that she is, apart from a miracle of Divine healing, destined to spend the remainder of her days in separation from those for whose sympathy she most longs, and to whom her affections naturally turn. But let it be borne in mind that this is not her conception of her life and work, nor her description of the sphere of her labors. This is merely the perspective of the picture as seen from our standpoint. To her there is cast over all the dark and repulsive features of the scene a heavenly light which enables her to see in the suffering objects around her possible sons and daughters of the Lord Almighty. Praying without ceasing, laboring without flagging, sympathizing unfailingly, she counts it a privilege to give time and strength, thought and affection, for those with whom her only link is that of a common affliction. Surely nothing but the *’love of Christ" could "constrain" to this, and to this she would have us ascribe it wholly. However effectually the fell disease may do its work in that which is corruptible, we cannot fail to behold and to admire the incorruptible beauty of Divine grace in a human soul when, under conditions so adverse, we find a life of such devotion and thankfulness being consummated. Here, beyond question, is the true moral loveliness, "the beauty that endures in the spiritual height."
One of the inevitable trials of Miss Reed’s lot, but one which, like the many others, she is enabled to bear with cheerful acquiescence, is its comparative isolation from intercourse with Europeans, and especially with her fellow-missionaries. When from time to time she journeys down from her mountain retreat to Pithora for conference with Miss Budden and others, or pays a visit — a rare event — to her friend, Miss Dr. Sheldon, at her lonely station in Bhot, her heart is lightened by affection and sympathy, and she returns, with strength renewed, to her suffering flock. At rare intervals she is gladdened by a visit from a sympathetic and congenial Christian friend, such as one of her sister missionaries just named. But one day late in November, 1895, witnessed the arrival at Chandag of a guest long expected and warmly welcomed. Mr. Wellesley C. Bailey, whose own labors amongst the lepers commenced in 1869, was one of the founders (in 1874), and is still the superintendent, of the Mission to Lepers in India and the East. To Mr. Bailey and his committee was accorded the privilege of appointing Miss Reed to the work to which she felt God had called her, and it was with no ordinary feelings, therefore, that in the course of his last visit to Leper Asylums in India and Burma he approached Miss Reed’s mountain home. And no less eagerly, we may be sure, did she anticipate the coming of a visitor to whom her letters, for four years or more, had conveyed many an urgent invitation. I am glad to be able to conclude this chapter with Mr. Bailey’s account of his visit, but I may add that the days these two devoted friends of the lepers spent in prayer and communion, social intercourse, and business conference, were full of intense and mutual interest. Some obscure points were cleared up, some perplexing things made plain, sympathy and counsel freely given; the lonely laborer was cheered, and the visitor more than ever impressed as he ’’ saw the grace of God " in the work and in the worker.
Mr. Bailey writes as follows :
" On Friday, 29th November, I spent the whole day at Chandag with Miss Reed, and heard from her all her wonderful story, went over all the place with her, had a little service for the women lepers, and visited the men.
" Sunday, 1st December, was a very happy day, thank God ! I preached in Pithora to the native Christians, a good congregation of about three hundred, mostly women. Afterward went up to Chandag with Miss Budden and Miss Reed (who had been down at Pithora for service and for Sunday-school), and after tiffin up there had a most delightful service with the lepers. Spoke on the New Birth. Was greatly helped, and was listened to with breathless attention. I trust there was blessing. After the service. Miss Budden, Miss Reed, and I had singing together.
’’ Today (2d December), spent a very happy day with Miss Reed. Examined D. and N. The former is a very decided case of leprosy which seems to be fast increasing, but N. is, I think, not a leper at all. She has certainly some white spots, but they are in my opinion merely leucoderma.
"4th December, 1895. — Chandag Heights, Pithora. This is Miss Reed’s birthday. When I arrived at her house this morning, I found the veranda nicely decorated with ferns and flowers, the work of the Bible-women and other Christian workers. I spent all yesterday with her, and had a very interesting day. There are some very, very sad cases in this asylum. Poor little Gangali is terribly bad ; I did pity her so yesterday when talking to her. She was in great pain with one foot, the toes of which seem literally to be rotting off. She is a little Trojan, and bears her sufferings so bravely.
’’ This morning, between two and three, Miss Reed was awakened by hearing singing in her veranda, and when she got up and peeped out she found her four Bible-women and Tima’s wife, standing there with lights, singing hymns in honor of her birthday. She is evidently greatly beloved by her workers. The decorations in the veranda were done at night, and Miss Reed knew nothing about them till she got up this morning.
"There is a man here in the asylum whose two children and niece are all lepers, and are here. His wife is the only one not afflicted with the disease. At first only the man and his niece were here. The niece used to live with this man and his wife, and was the first to develop the disease, and the wife and two children, Rupwa (a boy) and Dipah (a girl), were at Miss Budden’s home, but after a time the boy became affected, and was removed here, and since that poor little Dipah developed the disease, and has been brought here also. When the poor mother saw that Dipah must go to the asylum too, she was in a terrible state, and said to Miss Budden : ’ They have all got it now, and are all at the asylum ; I must go there too, I cannot remain here alone.’ Poor thing ! Miss Budden tried to comfort her, and at last persuaded her to remain where she was, and not risk herself by going to live at the asylum. The disease is developing with terrible rapidity in these two children. The poor boy is scarcely like anything human, and the girl, too, is very bad, though her face is, so far, spared. I believe it was a very, very touching scene when it was discovered that the boy was a leper, and he was removed from the boys’ school, where he had been so happy. They are all Christians, thank God !
"5th December, 1895. — Chandag, 9:30 a. m. Standing at Miss Reed’s door, the sun shining brightly, bees humming, and three exquisite butterflies basking on the flowers of a large bush of heliotrope which grows beside the door, while in front of me and below me the whole of the Pithora valley is hidden from view in one vast sea of white, fleecy clouds, here it is like a genial summer morn in the homeland, down there, under those clouds, is the chill and damp of winter. I am up here to-day holding special services with the lepers. At 10:30 a. m. we all assembled at the side of Miss Reed’s house, where the lepers might sit in the sun and be warm ; it makes such a difference to them, poor things. At first the women assembled, and Miss Reed had great work getting them all to sit as she wanted them. At last all were arranged to our satisfaction, and the women employed the time singing bhajans till the men should arrive up from Panahgah (’’place of refuge"), their home. I stood up, and walked to the brow of the hill to see if there was any sign of the men and boys coming, when a touching sight met my eye. I saw a long, straggling, white line of very helpless creatures wending their way up the mountain-side with considerable difficulty. At last they arrived, and we got them all seated, and ah, what a sight it was! In front of the women, and close to us, were seated three dear little girls with winsome, wee faces, but all far gone in leprosy; they were Minnie, Dipah, and Gangali, all supported by kind friends at home. Amongst the men were several boys with sad, wistful faces — one, a little Nepalese chap, had a specially pathetic look on his face. All were lepers, most of them peculiarly bad and distressing cases. When all were ready we had a hymn and prayer, then I preached to them on an interview with Christ, illustrated by the story of the woman at the well. The Lord opened my mouth, and I spoke to them without any difficulty in Hindustani. It was precious to tell out the riches of redeeming love to such an audience. The appreciative smiles, the nods of satisfaction, and the verbal answers I got from time to time showed that they understood and gladly received what I preached. We afterward asked those who had really given themselves to Jesus Christ and had received the gift of eternal life from Him to rise. Quite a large number, both of the men and women, did so. I observed the little Nepalese lad hesitating, but finally he, too, stood up. Later on we called together those who had stood up and those who are candidates for baptism, and had a prayer and testimony meeting. Several, both of the men and women, gave the most clear testimony to the blessed salvation they had received through Christ. One young woman, Kaliyani, in a very beautiful prayer, thanked God that He had brought this disease upon her, as it had been the means of leading her to Christ. Amongst our audience to-day were a father, mother, and son, all victims of the terrible disease.
" Sunday, 8th December. — Pithora. A very happy day, thank God. Got my home letters in the morning, then went up to Chandag, where I breakfasted with Miss Reed. After breakfast, service for the lepers in the little chapel, where I had a delightful time. I conducted the service, and preached from "To-day I must abide at Thy house," specially addressing the converts who were about to be baptized. I was greatly helped, and the lepers showed their appreciation of what was said by frequent smiles, nods, and responses. In order to find out how far they understood, I sometimes asked them to finish the sentence, which they would do correctly. At other times, I would give a wrong turn to something, and ask them if it were so, when they would, without hesitation, correct me.
"There were eighteen baptisms, nine men and nine women. One of the women baptized was Jogiani, of whom Miss Reed had the highest opinion. Jogiani is about twenty-two or twenty-three years of age. She has never been married. Her health has improved since coming to the asylum. Shortly after her baptism, Miss Reed remarked how pleased she looked, and asked her the cause. Oh ! ’ she said, ’ I feel so happy now, my heart feels so light.’ She then went on to tell Miss Reed that she wants to visit her old father once more, to tell him all about it. She said she did not expect to do much by singing bhajans. She is no singer, but she could pray for him, and I suppose with him too. She will probably lead him to Christ. One of the Christian women, Kaliyani, such a dear, bright woman, said to Miss Reed about the service to-day, ’ Oh, I shall never, never forget it ! ’
" Of the eighty-two inmates now in the asylum, sixty-four are professing Christians. This leaves eighteen still nominal heathen, of whom five are already candidates for baptism.
’’One of the newly-baptized women had her first test almost immediately after the baptism. Another woman is very ill, and required some one to sit up with her all night. The sick woman was originally low caste, while this woman who has just been baptized was originally high caste. Miss Reed asked the newly-baptized one if she would sit up with the sick one and look after her. At first she hung her head and did not seem willing, but on Miss Reed putting it to her that she was now a Christian, and all these ideas must go, she consented without any more ado, and so her first stand and fight are over, and she has been given the victory.
"My parting from the lepers was most touching; both men and women assembled to say good-bye, and seemed quite moved. They sent many loving salaams and piyars ’ to all their kind friends at home. The last I said good-bye to were little Minnie and Dipah, who smiled so sweetly and sent their ’bahut bahut ’piyar ’ and ’salaam ’ to the kind friends who support them. Poor little Gangali was with the women when I said good-bye to them, and I spoke specially to her, and asked her if her foot was better now, and if she were not in such pain now. She seemed pleased at my special notice, and said she was better. Poor, poor child, what a heritage of woe is hers !
"After I left Chandag I could see the lepers watching me for a long way down the road. Once or twice, when I came to a favorable turn of the road, I waved my handkerchief to them."