XLI

_July 12, 1902._[1]

Father and Mother have both given us their full permission. We had

expected storms, thunder-claps, and lightning flashes. I cannot yet

fully realize it. I had hoped that Father would consent, but I had not

dared to dream that Mamma would stand by him. We have never been

estranged from one another but things are clearer now between Mamma and

us, this has brought us nearer together. I felt calm at first, but when

Mother spoke to us in such a quiet, gentle manner, my calmness vanished.

I had so much in my mind that I had not thought over what I should say,

but when it came to the point, the words fell as themselves from my

lips. Who was it that placed the words ready in my mouth--Who?

There is a power higher and greater than all earthly powers put

together. Good spirits were certainly hovering near putting the words in

our mouths when we stood before her speaking for our ideals. Now I heard

Mamma say, deeply moved, "Oh child, why have you not trusted me?" We

have done wrong, not to have told Mamma everything. Poor, dearest

mother, we are not worthy to kiss her feet.

I wish that I could tell you what Mamma has been to us all these long

years, what she still is. Now we realize for the first time the debt

that we owe to her. We owe her a world full of love and gratitude; we

are so thankful that we are going away from Mamma in peace, in the

service of that Good that she herself knows and understands. We no

longer express our joy openly as formerly, as we did only a little while

ago. We are quiet now, but full of silent gratitude.

I had prepared what I had to say to Father with the greatest anxiety. I

do not know where I got the calmness and composure with which I spoke to

him. My voice sounded strange to my own ears. I was unmoved, but when

the permission for which I was pleading was granted, and I saw how much

it cost my dear father, the ice-crust melted from my heart. I longed to

throw my arms around him and speak words of comfort, but my knees

trembled and my voice refused to do my bidding. I sat before him on the

ground and looked at him with the mist before my eyes. I felt his pain

and I suffered with him. O, some day I will repay for everything.

In my heart the prayer rose "Father, forgive me, O my Father, forgive

your child, she cannot do otherwise."

It was on the twenty-first of June; I chose that day, your birth-day,

for the difficult interview with Father. I wished to have you, my little

Mother, with me in spirit. Good angels surrounded me, my Heavenly Father

stood by me in my struggle against my earthly one. When I was alone once

more and had gained my desire, there was no joy in my heart; there was

only pity and sympathy for the sorrow of one whom I loved. My tears were

for him. From the depth of my soul I prayed: "O grant that from this

great sacrifice of my parents, flowers will spring up and fruit will

grow for our land, and for our people."

On the same day, the twenty-first of June, we wrote to the Heer Van Kol

at Batavia at his request. The letters contained our names, ages, and a

summary of our ideas and wishes.

But we had to have our parents' permission, without that nothing could

be done for us.

And now that this stumbling block is cleared from our way, we stand

before a second--the financial one. Our parents cannot possibly afford

the expense of our education; nor would we ask it of them. Yesterday I

received a long and very earnest letter from Mevrouw Van Kol. If I did

not need to keep it until it was answered, and if my unaccustomed

fingers did not cling to it so, I should like to send it to you, but I

shall try to tell you something of its contents. She has given us more

than moral support, she has given us part of herself. We feel as though

we had received a benediction. We are no longer afraid, we have no

anxiety; we are at peace, we trust and we believe. Of what worth are we!

We are no more than the dust of the ground. We feel no jubilant,

boisterous happiness, but a still, quiet joy. O God, we are so thankful

that we have found Thee, that we have come through doubt, unbelief and

materialism.

We have thought much of late. We sought the Light afar off and all the

time it was near; it has always been with us, it is in us.

Our souls have been working and growing, and we did not know it. Mevrouw

Van Kol has drawn back the curtain from before our eyes; we are more

grateful to her for that than for all the other things which have been

done for us.

Before I received her letter, Mamma had said to me, "Who gave you such

ideas?" and I answered "God gave them to me." It was only natural that

Mother should try to hold us back, but when she saw that we would never

change, that we could not change, she said to us with resignation,

"Well, children, I shall try to think that you are called to do this;

that God has sent you for this service."

Mevrouw Van Kol wrote us: "Often we need human beings and their support,

but there are many more times, when it is only God that we need. He has

called each one of us to do our special work, and he gives us strength

and constancy. Believe me, this is what the voice of experience says.

You stand now at the threshhold of life; at the beginning of your work;

when you are in the midst of it, then you too will have had experience.

It is only when we have had experience that we become free and strong,

true helpers and friends of mankind, depending not upon them, but upon

ourselves and upon our Father--God."

Unasked, _East and West_ has sent us assurances of its support and

co-operation. Mevrouw Van Kol sent us the paper with an account

containing a description of the journey of Heer Stoll. And where the

writer had spoken of us, the following had been interpolated _by East

and West_:

"We trust that Heer Van Kol, who has been a member of E & W since it was

founded, will not have neglected to tell her that she can count to the

fullest on our support in her noble struggle."

After she had seen this article, Mevrouw Van Kol, sent a few words to

_East and West_ about us, so that we might be brought nearer to the

heart of the Javanese loving public, which reads E & W.

She has asked permission to publish my entire letter in that paper. I do

not like the idea, but it is in our own behalf, and she writes further:

"How can the friendly public know what is in your heart and learn to

appreciate your aspirations, better than from a candid letter, in which

the young Javanese lays bare her soul to an older woman from whom she

asks support and sympathy? There is not a word in that letter that the

public ought not to see, and I know of no better introduction for you to

the circle that has the welfare of Java and of the Javanese at heart. I

can easily understand your scruples, but overcome them and say "Yes."

I have come to no decision in regard to this. I must first have Father's

consent. Father wants me to keep everything secret at present; if the

Government says yes, then the world can hear of it. It is very true that

we should choose our way with all prudence, but experience has shown us

lately that we gain more by publicity than by secrecy. Even if the

Government should refuse our request, we should lose nothing. How many

petitions are never reached!

* * * * *

Let me say now, to set you at ease, that we will always remain what we

are, but we fervently hope with you, that it may be granted us to make

our own form of religion admirable in the eyes of those who think

differently.

We feel that the kernel of all religion is right living, and that all

religion is good and beautiful. But, O ye peoples, what have ye not made

of it?

Religion is designed as a blessing, it should form a bond between all

the creatures of God, white or brown, of every station, sex and belief,

for all are children of One Father, of one God. There is no God but the

Almighty, say we Mohammedans, and with us all-believing monotheists, God

is the master, the Creator of everything.

Children of one father and for that reason, brothers and sisters, who

must all love one another, help and support one another. Ah, if this

were but understood. But we are so harnessed down by form that we are

sometimes driven against all religion; the followers of one dogma look

down upon the followers of another, despise, hate and, sometimes, even

persecute them; but enough of this for the present.

Is there a Dutch translation of Lessing's works, and of the life and

writings of Pudita Ramabai? I was still going to school when I heard of

this courageous Indian woman for the first time. I remember it still so

well; I was very young, a child of ten or eleven, when, glowing with

enthusiasm, I read of her in the paper. I trembled with excitement; not

alone for the white woman is it possible to attain an independent

position, the brown Indian too can make herself free. For days I thought

of her, and I have never been able to forget her. See what one good

brave example can do! It spreads its influence so far.

[1] To Mevrouw Ovink-Soer.