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LOTUS BUDS
[Illustration]
[Illustration: The Great Rock. (_Page 338._)]
LOTUS BUDS
by
AMY WILSON-CARMICHAEL
Keswick Missionary C.E.Z.M.S.
Author of
"Things As They Are"; "Overweights of Joy";
"The Beginning of a Story," Etc.
With Fifty Half-Tone Illustrations
from Photos Specially Taken for This Work
Morgan and Scott Ld.
12 Paternoster Buildings
London MCMXII
Copyright, Morgan & Scott Ld., 1909
First Edition, _Quarto_ (_Fifty Photogravure
Illustrations_) 2,000 _Nov., 1909_
Edition De Luxe (_Fifty Photogravures on Japon
Vellum_) 250 _Nov., 1909_
Octavo Edition (_Fifty Half-tone Engravings_) 5,250 _July, 1912_
_TO THOSE WHO CARE_
DOHNAVUR, TINNEVELLY DISTRICT,
SOUTH INDIA
_Christmas, 1909._
Each for himself, we live our lives apart,
Heirs of an age that turns us all to stone;
Yet ever Nature, thrust from out the heart,
Comes back to claim her own.
Still we have something left of that fair seed
God gave for birthright; still the sound of tears
Hurts us, and children in their helpless need
Still call to listening ears.
OWEN SEAMAN.
_From_ "In a Good Cause."
_FOREWORD TO THE PRESENT EDITION_
_WHEN first "Things as they are" trod the untrodden way, it walked as a
small child walks when for the first time it ventures forth upon young,
uncertain feet. It has to walk; it does not know why: it only knows
there is no choice about it. But there is an eager looking for an
outstretched hand, and an instant gratefulness always, for even a
finger. A whole hand given without reserve is something never
forgotten._
_It was only a child after all, and it had not anticipated having to
find its way alone among strangers. It had thought of nothing further
than a very short walk among familiar faces. If it had understood
beforehand how far it would have to walk, I doubt if it would have had
the courage to start; for it was not naturally brave. But once on its
way it could not turn back; and thanks to those kindly outstretched
hands, it grew a little less afraid, and it went on._
_Then another small wayfarer followed. It also was very easily
discouraged; an unfriendly push would have knocked it over at once. But
nobody seemed to want to push so unpretentious a thing, so it gained
courage and went on._
_And now a more grown-up looking traveller (though indeed its looks
belie it) has started on its way; more diffident, if the truth must be
told, than even its predecessors. For it thought within itself--Perhaps
there will be no welcoming hands held out this time; hands may grow
tired of such kind offices. But it has not been so. And now the sense of
gratefulness cannot longer be repressed._
_All of which means that I want to thank sincerely those kings of the
Book World--Reviewers--and those dwellers in that world who are my
Readers, for their insight and the sympathy to which I owe so much._
_Once I read of a soldier who wrote a letter home from the midst of a
battle, on a crumpled piece of paper laid upon a cannon ball. His home
people he knew would overlook the appearance of the paper and the lack
of various things expected in a letter written in a quiet room upon a
study table. And he knew he could trust them not to bring too fine a
criticism to bear upon the unstudied words hot from the battle's heart._
_I have thought sometimes that these books were not unlike that
soldier's letter; and those who read them seem to me very like his home
people, for they have been so generous in the kindness of their
welcome._
_Amy Wilson-Carmichael._
_Dohnavur,_
_Tinnevelly District_
_S. India._
_Feb. 19, 1912._
THE WRITER TO THE READER
THE photographs (except two) were taken by Mr. Penn, of Ootacamund,
whose work is known to all who care to possess good photographs of the
South Indian hills. The babies were a new experience to him, and
something of a trial, I fear, after the mountains, which can be trusted
to sit still.
The book has been written for lovers of children. Those who find such
young life tiresome will find the story dull, and the kindest thing it
can ask of them is not to read it at all.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. LOTUS BUDS 1
II. OPPOSITES 5
III. THE SCAMP 15
IV. THE PHOTOGRAPHS 23
V. TARA AND EVU 31
VI. PRINCIPALITIES, POWERS, RULERS 41
VII. HOW THE CHILDREN COME 51
VIII. OTHERS 61
IX. OLD DEVAI 67
X. FAILURES? 75
XI. GOD HEARD: GOD ANSWERED 85
XII. TO WHAT PURPOSE? 95
XIII. A STORY OF COMFORT 103
XIV. PICKLES AND PUCK 113
XV. THE HOWLER 121
XVI. THE NEYOOR NURSERY 129
XVII. IN THE COMPOUND AND NEAR IT 141
XVIII. FROM THE TEMPLE OF THE ROCK 153
XIX. YOSEPU 159
XX. THE MENAGERIE 169
XXI. MORE ANIMALS 183
XXII. THE PARROT HOUSE 191
XXIII. THE BEAR GARDEN 201
XXIV. THE ACCALS 213
XXV. THE LITTLE ACCALS 227
XXVI. THE GLORY OF THE USUAL 235
XXVII. THE SECRET TRAFFIC 245
XXVIII. BLUE BOOK EVIDENCE 253
XXIX. "VERY COMMON IN THOSE PARTS" 261
XXX. ON THE SIDE OF THE OPPRESSORS THERE WAS POWER 269
XXXI. AND THERE WAS NONE TO SAVE 279
XXXII. THE POWER BEHIND THE WORK 291
XXXIII. IF THIS WERE ALL 301
XXXIV. "TO CONTINUE THE SUCCESSION" 309
XXXV. WHAT IF SHE MISSES HER CHANCE? 321
XXXVI. "THY SWEET ORIGINAL JOY" 331
ILLUSTRATIONS
PAGE
THE GREAT ROCK _Frontispiece_
LOTUS FLOWERS 3
"GOD'S FIRE" 8
"AIYO! DID YOU THINK I WOULD HAVE DONE IT?" 12
CHELLALU WATCHING THE PICTURE-CATCHER 18
"OH, IT'S A JOKE!" 20
"THAT THING AGAIN!" 25
PYARIE AND VINEETHA 26
"DISGUSTING!" 28
"LOOK AT THE POSE!" 30
TARA 33
STURDY AND STOLID, AND LITTLE VEERA 63
PEBBLES 66
LATHA (FIREFLY) BLOWING BUBBLES 72
SEELA, MALA, AND NULLINIE 105
THE COTTAGE NURSERY 108
"PICKLES" AND HER FRIENDS 115
THE DOHNAVUR COUNTRY IN FLOOD 124
PAKIUM AND NAVEENA 126
ON THE ROAD TO NEYOOR 131
ON THE OUTSKIRTS OF NAGERCOIL 132
THE NEYOOR NURSERY 136
THE OLD NURSERY (THE "ROOM OF JOY") 143
THE COURTYARD 144
A COMING-DAY FEAST 146
THE RED LAKE 148
AT THE DOOR OF THE TEMPLE 150
THE WATER CARRIERS 161
THE BELOVED TINGALU 164
TWO VIEWS OF LIFE 171
MORE ANIMALS: DEPRESSED 185
TUBBING 188
RED LAKE, AND HILL AS SEEN FROM THE TARAHA NURSERY 193
CHILDREN WADING 196
CHILDREN WADING 197
ESLI, AND LITTLE KOHILA 198
PREETHA AWARE OF A FOE 200
JULLANIE AMONG THE GRASSES 203
ARULAI AND RUKMA, WITH NAVEENA 210
PONNAMAL, PREETHA, AND TARA 215
SELLAMUTTU AND SUSEELA 216
SUHINIE, AND HER BABY, SUNUNDA 218
THREE CONVERT WORKERS: SUNDOSHIE, SUHINIE, AND JEYANIE 220
SEWING-CLASS IN THE COURTYARD 222
THREE LITTLE ACCALS 229
PREENA AND PREEYA 230
AFTER HER BOTTLE 237
NORTH LAKE AND HILLS 238
FROM THE ROCK, DOHNAVUR 338
THE PLACE OF BAPTISM 340
CHAPTER I
Lotus Buds
[Illustration: LOTUS FLOWERS.
From that same pool, afterwards gathered by permission and given to
us.]
LOTUS BUDS
CHAPTER I
Lotus Buds
NEAR an ancient temple in Southern India is a large calm, beautiful
pool, enclosed by stone walls, broken here and there by wide spaces
fitted with steps leading down to the water's edge; and almost within
reach of the hand of one standing on the lowest step are pink Lotus
lilies floating serenely on the quiet water or standing up from it in a
certain proud loveliness all their own.
We were travelling to the neighbouring town when we came upon this pool.
We could not pass it with only a glance, so we stopped our bullock-carts
and unpacked ourselves--we were four or five to a cart--and we climbed
down the broken, time-worn steps and gazed and gazed till the beauty
entered into us.
Who can describe that harmony of colour, a Lotus-pool in blossom in
clear shining after rain! The grey old walls, the brown water, the dark
green of the Lotus leaves, the delicate pink of the flowers; overhead,
infinite crystalline blue; and beyond the old walls, palms.
With us was a young Indian friend. "I will gather some of the lilies for
you," he said, with the quick Indian desire to give pleasure; but some
one interposed: "They must not be gathered by us. The pool belongs to
the Temple."
It was as if a stone had been flung straight at a mirror. There was a
sense of crash and the shattering of some bright image. The Lotus-pool
was a Temple pool; its flowers are Temple flowers. The little buds that
float and open on the water, lifting young innocent faces up to the
light as it smiles down upon them and fills them through with almost a
tremor of joyousness, these Lotus buds are sacred things--sacred to
whom?
For a single moment that thought had its way, but only for a moment. It
flashed and was gone, for the thought was a false thought: it could not
stand against this--"All souls are Mine."
All souls are His, all flowers. An alien power has possessed them,
counted them his for so many generations, that we have almost acquiesced
in the shameful confiscation. But neither souls nor flowers are his who
did not make them. They were never truly his. They belong to the Lord of
all the earth, the Creator, the Redeemer. The little Lotus buds are
His--His and not another's. The children of the temples of South India
are His--His and not another's.
So now we go forth with the Owner Himself to claim His own possession.
There is hope in the thought, and confidence and the purest inspiration.
And, stirred to the very depths, as we are and must be many a time when
we see the tender Lotus buds gathered by a hand that has no right to
them, and crushed underfoot; bewildered and sore troubled, as the heart
cannot help being sometimes, when the mystery of the apparent victory of
evil over good is overwhelming: even so there will be always a hush, a
rest, a repose of spirit, as we stand by the Lotus-pools of life and
seek in His Name to gather His flowers.