MARY DAYÁL had had a sad, weary life, not marked by any special joys,
but clouded by many sorrows. The daughter of Christian parents, she had
taken it for granted that she was a Christian also, and never thought
of being anything else. She had been sent to school as soon as she
was old enough, and had there learnt English, and many other things,
which had been soon forgotten. When she was seventeen, her parents had
arranged for her marriage.
Her married life had not been a very happy one. Her husband had a knack
of getting out of work, and they were never sure of any certain income.
Sometimes he earned good wages, and they lived in comfort, but those
days did not last long.
Very soon, through no fault of his, so he said, he was sent away; then
there was nothing to live on, so what could they do but go into debt?
And so they did.
They had had eight children, but out of those, only four were living:
Reuben, the eldest, a boy of ten; Julius, seven years old; Maggie, six;
and baby Rose.
The three eldest went to school, which was a great comfort to their
mother. At the time of Hira's visit, the father of the family had
some employment, though, as he considered, far beneath a man of his
capabilities; so these were not some of the darkest days.
Still, they were quite dark enough, for there was a heavy debt on
which they had to pay so much interest that they had little left to
pay their daily expenses. And as Mary sat nursing her baby in the
empty, quiet house, she used to think and wonder what could be done to
bring in more money and ease her of this heavy load which weighed so
upon her. Indeed, the one thought which filled her mind and absorbed
all her attention was this: How can I provide food and clothes for
my family? No wonder that she looked dull and listless, that she was
cross and impatient with her children, and anything but an attractive,
affectionate wife to her husband.
Mark Dayál was one who might have been a different man under different
circumstances. From his earliest days, he had been allowed to do just
as he liked. When he was ten years old, his father died, which made
matters still worse, for it was he who ruled his mother, and not his
mother who ruled him. Some kind friends paid for his education, and
finding that he was a clever, bright boy, quite expected to see the
reward of their kindness in his becoming a good, useful man. But they
were sorely disappointed; the boy began to think himself far more
clever than he really was, and thought everything was so easy that he
need not take pains about anything, and so he became careless and lazy.
When he was twenty years old, though he had little or nothing to
support a wife (that was a "small" matter), he married; the result
has already been told. Now he was a hard, disappointed man, blaming
everybody else for his want of success in life, but never thinking of
blaming himself.
Such was the household to which blind Hira came to ask how she could
find new eyes, that she might see, and what the command meant, "Prepare
to meet thy God." Mary did not know it at the time, but the visit of
the blind child was the beginning of what will never end. The question
asked had made her "think," and thinking, when it is about what is
good, will surely bring good results, as it did in this case.
For the first time in her life, the thought of coming into contact with
God had claimed her attention, and though it was not a thought which
brought her any pleasure, she could not get rid of it.
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