The Work as Seen in Foreign Lands

When one is asked to let her memory loose, there is no knowing what fifty years of time will bring up! At a New England boarding school, Fidelia Fiske, that pioneer missionary in Persia, gathered a few of the girls about her, had them sit on the floor, Persian fashion, and gave them a story of "If you love me, lean hard." One of that group gave her life to China and another to Turkey. I was one of the girls who had the lesson.

In 1867, on my wedding trip, I was in Constantinople, where I sat in a conference at the yearly gathering of missionaries, and met some of the great men and women of whom we read. In Beirut and Sidon I looked in on work for girls. We spent two months on horseback through Palestine to Egypt. Everywhere there was need of woman's work for woman.

Reaching home I found that Mrs. Doremus was working out her great thought of how to get into the zenanas and help the child-widows and girl-wives and others of India. I gladly did my little as a member of the Women's Union Missionary Society.

I remember using a leaflet for those who were not interested or able to give a larger sum - "Two Cents a Week and a Prayer." Whether the giving was small or great, prayer is the power.

In 1871 the Baptist women organized for foreign work, first in the West and then in the East. Some splendid leaders came forward - Mrs. Gardner Colby, Mrs. Hovey, Mrs. Stephen Smith, Mrs. Colgate, Mrs. Robert Harris and many others.

Woman's life in the Far East was so full of misery and superstition and degradation, that we needed to brighten our meetings in every way possible. There were then no grand plans for educating native women, who should be trained for high positions. We little dreamed of the wonderful changes the Gospel would bring. It was a time of little things, of giving simple incidents. We were laying foundation stones and needed to have our meetings attractive. A returned missionary was met and welcomed and entertained, and a good lunch or missionary tea followed the sad stories. I remember saying to my Sabbath school girls, "If you come to the missionary meeting, I shall invite you to my sleighride party." One of my girls of sanctified common sense but moderate book knowledge went to India, and gave a dozen years of efficient service, until called up higher.

Mrs. Harris, in her elegant hotel life, was always ready to entertain missionaries. We all know of her largehearted, bountiful giving. No one can forget Mrs. Colgate with the smile that irradiated her sweet face. Her June missionary day, with its roses and strawberries and cream and royal welcome, was one to look forward to all the year.

In January, 1879, we started on a visit of missions. Globe trotting was not the order of the day. At every port we were welcomed by schoolmates or friends. In Japan there was my old friend Miss Kidder. We did not impose ourselves on her hospitality, but during our stay took possession and made her and Sowotome San our guests, so she was relieved of the housekeeping and the bills and I had the fun. Joseph Neesima we had known in America. Think of visiting his home, and seeing the Doshisha! The Ashmores in Swatow, and a summer with my relatives, Dr. and Mrs. Nevius in Chefoo - but the list is too long! One special schoolmate and make-believe sister was Martha Sheldon, whose quiet, beautiful work with girls at the Tyke, in Moulmein, we had longed to see; and from our own church had gone our dear friend and sister, Emma Chace, later Mrs. Hascall, giving beautiful service and, after the death of Mrs. Ingalls, taking charge of her work. Memories crowd upon me! Can I ever forget such a beautiful character as Mahsoo, who went with us by elephant and jungle-boat into the interior? And there were Thinoo and others whom we learned to love dearly.

In Thongzai we were met by Mrs. Ingalls with her ever merry laugh. Shaking her curls, and talking to my small son, she said, "I have a surprise for you!" I had written her that my boy would be with me. On reaching her home, we found that she had rented a live monkey for the boy's amusement while he was her guest! It was an illustration of the tactful way she met every emergency.

One night Mrs. Ingalls had a prayer meeting in her home, the usual place, and the native preacher hunted in vain for the big Bible, and had to read out of a small one. Mrs. Ingalls told me later that whenever the native preacher was overlong in his exegesis at the beginning of a meeting, she always hid the Bible when the next meeting came where he presided. She did not scold, but was a perfect bishop over those native Christian leaders.

In contrast with her strength of character, she had a deadly fear of dogs. A Burman neighbor knew of this timidity and insisted, when she was alone, on accompanying her to nearby villages, for everybody kept dogs.

I went with Mrs. Ingalls into some of her country work. A bullock cart, without springs, met us at the jungle station. Thet-sha, who was to help cook for us, came with rolls of bedding, for we were to sleep on the floor of the chapel.

The following incident illustrates a certain line of her work. It had been a busy Sunday. It was now sunset. "Come, I hear them at worship," said Mrs. Ingalls. Through a grove of palm and mango trees, to a bamboo room on posts, we hurried. It had a thatched roof but no sides. Quietly we climbed the bamboo ladder (the only means of entrance), and there saw a small company of men kneeling before the idols, praying.

Close to the sacred platform we stood and listened, "O, thou great one, and most excellent, we worship thee with our minds and our bodies, and all that we have. Thou hast taken the form of every living thing. When thou wast in the last state of a Boodh, O Gaudama, thou wast the most wonderful, and hast gone into Nigban (practical annihilation of body and soul)." The prayer then stopped, as the worshiper poured water through the cracks of the bamboo floor. "For this act of adoration may we all obtain great merit, O Gaudama!"

"My friend," said the missionary, touching him on the shoulder, "I have heard your prayer."

"Oh, I am glad," quickly replied the man.

"But," continued the mama (teacher), "I did not hear of anything this great god can do for you."

"I will not lie; he is not able," was the frank answer.

"Well, then, why do you pray to him?" she responded.

"It's our custom; our forefathers all did so."

"Must you do exactly as your ancestors did? They always spent four days walking to Rangoon when they went there and slept under the trees; and yet you go in the cars in six hours. How's that?"

Then followed a hearty, irresistible laugh, in which all joined.

"Are you the mama from Thongzai?" said one of the men, peering into her face. "I am coming to get some of your books; I have heard about you."

Down at the foot of the ladder there was a second meeting, where Mrs. Ingalls in the gathering twilight told of that "God who so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son."