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Chinese Diamonds for the King of Kings

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SKETCH XIV
Daybreak in One Home

Part I. LITTLE SLAVE

One of the most wonderful things about this wonderful old land of China, is the number, size and length of her great waterways. Millions of her people live, yes and die, on the large and small craft (chiefly the latter) which ply up and down these great streams.

Twenty-five days' hauling up one of these rivers from the Port of Tientsin, brings us to the town of Swinsen. There can be little doubt but that this place dates far back, for not far distant can be still seen the ruins of what was once – three thousand five hundred years ago, or before Moses led the Children of Israel out of Egypt, – the flourishing capitol of the Kingdom of China.

The Wang family, for many generations, had made their home in this curious old town of Swinsen. To trace the history of one section of this family, as I think you would like to hear it, we shall have to go back forty years. Could we about that time, have taken a peep through one of the gateways on a narrow street of this town, we would have seen a strange sight.

Standing in the centre of the court, and surrounded by a rough mocking group, was a young girl. She was dressed in all the gaudy garments of an Eastern Bride, but her finery served only to show forth the more conspicuously how ungenerous Nature had been in the matter of good looks. Tall and very thin, with a slouchy uncertain manner which gave her loose ill-fitting garments the appearance of being made for another, and with deep smallpox marks covering her face, and only partially concealed by powder and paint, she certainly did not appear the beautiful bride they had been led to expect.

A storm of ridicule and scorn was kept up by the group surrounding her. "Evidently," said one, "she has been brought up in a poorly-managed home or why have her feet been allowed to grow so large?"

"Were we not promised a beautiful, rich, clever, bride, with tiny feet?" said another. And the storm of abuse upon the innocent girl and absent "go-between" became so bitter as to make the poor creature shrink in terror. At last, like an animal brought to bay, she turned pleadingly towards a bright young man standing on the outskirts of the group, her bridegroom of a day, who till that moment seemed heartily to enjoy the fun of tormenting her. Catching her pleading terrified look he flushed as if with shame; then calling out sharply, – "Enough, enough! Let her alone. She is not to blame, and, anyway, she is here to stay." With this he gave her a not ungentle push towards the door of their apartment, then hastened through the gate and disappeared down the street.

As is the custom in China the Wang household was ruled with a rod of iron by the old grandmother. And the old lady certainly had her hands full for there were four sons, and four daughters-in-law, also numerous grandchildren. The new daughter-in-law was no favorite with her, and young Mrs. Wang, as we shall call her, had a hard and bitter life. All the women of the family joined in making her the drudge. One would have to understand heathenism and the conditions of a heathen home to fully comprehend what refinement of cruelty and meanness can be exercised by women under like circumstances. Again and again Mrs. Wang was tempted, as she knew so many other brides had been, to end her wretchedness by jumping down the well or taking opium poison, but something seemed to keep her from this awful deed.

One day there arrived to comfort the poor girl's heart a tiny stranger. Because it was a girl the other members of the family took no interest in its arrival, but the mother's heart, crushed and starved for so long, went out to her little daughter. She thought long for a beautiful name for her, and at last decided to call her "Lily Blossom." But when the old grandmother heard of her choice of a name she was furious, and asserted her authority in no uncertain manner, declaring, "No girl in my family will ever receive such a name. Why! it is just tempting the fairies to send us only girls. Her name is to be SLAVE." And Slave she was called.

The child grew up pretty and attractive, surprisingly so considering the coarse and unattractive surroundings in which she lived. She was her mother's constant companion, and even when very young would try to shield her mother from the blows often showered upon her.

When Slave reached her sixth birthday preparations were made to have her feet bound. Three or four women were needed for the performance. One to hold the child, a second to bandage, and one or two more to pull the bandages. A veil must be drawn over one terrible hour. Then we see her rolling from side to side on the large brick bed in a state of semi-consciousness. Her shrieks and cries had become reduced to low moans.

At last her mother in pity offered to loosen the bandages, but little Slave pushed her away with all her remaining strength, saying, "No, no, I want my feet small, I must have my feet small." And the mother knowing well the bitterness and cruelty she had suffered because of her own feet being allowed to grow to almost natural size, yielded.

For months Slave was practically a cripple, then gradually she learned to balance herself on her crushed and broken stumps of feet. Later the child's delight knew no bounds, for everywhere she went her tiny feet, clothed in beautiful embroidered shoes, attracted the admiration of all.

***

Seven years have passed and we now find Slave a beautiful girl of thirteen. Her beauty had been much talked of, and great expectations were indulged in regarding her marriage. The child outwardly seemed to take more interest in making her pretty shoes than in these discussions regarding her future "Mother-in-law's home," but in reality she was a keen and interested listener to all that was said on the subject.

More than one "go-between" had visited the home for the purpose of arranging a match with Slave, but the family knew her market value and were hard to please. At last a woman came from whom Slave instinctively shrank. Yet it was she who succeeded in satisfying the demands of the family. This woman stated positively that the "Mother-in-law's home," for whom she was the middle-woman, was all that could be desired. They owned considerable property, and were the chief family of their village. As to the man himself, why he was all a girl could wish for or be proud to call a husband, – young, handsome, clever, and so on.

The outcome of it all was the usual gifts were exchanged and Slave's fate was sealed for life.

Two short years passed then word was received from Slave's mother-in-law's home that the wedding must take place on a certain date in the near future. During the busy days of preparation that followed, Slave's heart palpitated many times as with mixed feelings she thought of the future. Then alas, all too soon the eventful day arrived, when two Sedan chairs were set down at the Wang's gateway. The one containing the waiting bridegroom, was handsomely decorated in blue and silver, but the bride's chair was even more gorgeous in its trappings of gold and crimson.

When the time came for farewell, tears of real sorrow were shed, but little Slave's heart was too full of the handsome young bridegroom to permit such sad feelings remaining long. No sooner was she safely behind the curtains of her chair than she arranged with utmost care, her veil and ornaments, seeking meanwhile to get a glimpse of the one who was to be hers for life. Often had she pictured to herself the "handsome young man" described by the "go-between," and it was with only joyous anticipation that she thought of the future. No response, however, came from the other chair.

The journey was soon over, and as they approached her future home Slave became increasingly nervous and shy. She could easily have caught a glimpse of her bridegroom's face through her veil as they alighted from their chairs, but her eyes seemed glued to the ground. She felt herself led through the crowd of noisy spectators, and was conscious that he was beside her. Together, side by side, they knelt before the household gods. But it was not till she had been led to the bridal chamber and seated on the brick platform or bed, with her garments arranged to the best advantage, that the crowd was admitted and her veil was raised.

A low murmur arose at the sight of her great beauty. Still little Slave's eyes would not rise. It was not till all had left and she was alone with her husband that her eyes rose with one swift glance. But, alas, poor child, it was not to see the bridegroom of her dreams, but instead she saw a man old enough to be her father, – a man with the marks of a debauched and wicked life plainly written on his countenance, – a typical opium slave; in other words a man only in name, rather a brute in human form!

As Slave caught sight of this man standing there, intoxicated with wine, and looking like a beast about to pounce upon its prey, the shock of disappointment was too great. Her face became deathly white, and with a piercing cry, – "My mother, oh my mother," she fell forward unconscious.

We must leave our little friend to enter the darkness alone, only one of multitudes in this dark heathen land of China whose innocence and happiness are year by year sacrificed to the greed of gain and cruel marriage customs of their own land.

We shall see later how the Light that can lighten the deepest darkness, came at last into little Slave's life, giving peace and hope.

Part II. SLAVE'S FATHER

Slave was gone! As really lost to her parents as if she were dead. When the truth concerning the man she now belonged to for life became known, her mother wept long and bitterly, but there was no redress; they had to bear as others had borne, who had been deceived by an unprincipled "go-between."

 

Some months after Slave's marriage, there came to fill her place two fine twin boys. Mrs. Wang's day had dawned at last. The old grandmother could not do enough for her and the once despised and ill-treated drudge was waited on hand and foot by the other women, at the command of the old lady.

For three whole years this state of things lasted, then one day the grandmother announced her intention of making the two boys take the smallpox. (Many of the Chinese believed that children must have the smallpox when young or they will not grow up strong). The mother's heart sank as she thought of what the result might be. She ventured to protest but was silenced by a shower of blows. The grandmother took both of the fine healthy boys to a neighbor's house where they had smallpox, and kept them there a whole day to ensure them getting the disease. A week later both became ill.

We must draw a veil over the horror of the days that followed the agony of the mother, the despair of the father, the rage of the grandmother when she saw the children would die, and the ill-concealed malice of the other women. A few days passed when a little body, wrapped in a piece of old matting, was carried by the father to the children's pit outside the city. A little later this scene was repeated, and Mrs. Wang's day of happiness ended.

The cruel death of their two beautiful boys was the beginning of dark days for our Mr. and Mrs. Wang. The old grandmother died shortly after from excess of rage. (The fits of rage to which women give way in China cannot easily be understood by the Westerner). It was in one of these attacks, caused no doubt by disappointment at the result of her treatment of her grandchildren, that the poor old autocrat collapsed and died. The day before the funeral was to take place the old husband was found dead in bed.

An expensive funeral and excessive feasting which followed and which custom required reduced the family to desperate financial straits.

The days following the funeral were tempestuous ones for the Wang household, and the "domestic typhoons," as they have been correctly described, were fiercer and more frequent than ever. At last the day came when the family mutually decided to separate, which they did in true Chinese fashion – each couple would be responsible for their own finances, but would continue to live as before "within the one gate."

This arrangement would have been favorable to our branch of the family had not Mr. Wang lost his situation as teacher almost immediately after the change. Then followed several moons (months) of fruitless search for employment. Everything that could be was sold or pawned to get food.

One day Mr. Wang's boatman brother returned from the coast. He told them of a man who had come up on their boat who was looking for a teacher for a missionary living in an adjoining province, and he urged Mr. Wang to take this position. The women-folk, however, bitterly opposed saying, "If he once gets under the spell of the foreigner we shall never hear of him again." But they could not starve, and when it was learned the salary would be considerably more than what he had been getting even the women yielded.

Mr. Wang was himself only half inclined to go, for he could not get out of his mind the remembrance of stories he had heard of wholesale poisoning carried on by the missionaries.

Shortly after his departure a little girl came to comfort Mrs. Wang in her loneliness. Now that she was her own mistress, she chose a pretty name for the child, little dreaming what a beautiful herald it was of the brighter day so soon to dawn, she called it Spring!

One morning when little Spring was just three weeks old, the Wang family received a great surprise. They were all seated at their own doorsteps or squatting around the court, each with a bowl of millet poised in one hand and a pair of chop sticks in the other, when the front gate opened and who should appear but Mr. Wang. It was as if a bomb had fallen! In a few moments the court was crowded with curious neighbors, all eager to hear the reason for his return.

The truth in brief was that he had reached the Mission Compound safely, had been well received by the other Chinese teachers, had been in the missionary's home and had taught him and his wife for one day, but that night had been seized with sudden panic lest he get under the spell of the missionaries, and had gathered up his belongings and when all were asleep had quietly slipped away. This, however, was not just how Mr. Wang told it to the waiting crowd. He found it necessary to add a good many embellishments to make it a less humiliating story than it would otherwise have been, and these additions were not always favorable to the foreigners.

The family had to face the fact that there were three "mouths to fill" and some work must be got, but weeks of searching resulted as before in failure. Our friends would certainly have starved had not other members of the family given, sometimes almost thrown, food to them. At last in sheer despair Mr. Wang accepted a position in the Yamen (City Hall) for just his food. Thus Mrs. Wang was left to battle with her little babe alone. The cold pitiless winter faced her and bitter indeed did she find the struggle for existence. To earn even three and a half cents a day, she was obliged to sit at her spinning wheel far into the night, with her babe inside her wadded garment to keep it warm.

* * *

During those long winter months Mr. Wang sat at his desk in the Yamen the face of the missionary seemed to come before him vividly – so kind, so true, so different from any face he had ever seen before.

Gradually he came to the point of resolving that had he another chance he would return to the missionary. The opportunity was nearer than he imagined.

While at his work one morning he heard an unusual commotion outside. Stepping to the front gate he found a great crowd hurrying towards the river. A man shouted to him, "Two foreign demons are coming up the river. Come and see the fun."

Without so much as a thought for his work awaiting him, Mr. Wang caught up his teacher's long gown to accelerate speed, and before the man ceased speaking had started to run with the others. His behaviour on this occasion at least was quite unworthy of a proud Confucian scholar, all of whom pride themselves on imitating the sage in never making haste under any circumstances.

Just as the tiny house boat, with two foreign men standing on its deck, came in sight, Mr. Wang reached the river bank. Had he tried he would have found it difficult to say why he trembled so. He was only conscious of an intense desire that one of these men might be his foreigner. At last as he recognized the missionary he had taught for a day, he could scarcely repress a cry of joy, or wait till the boat was drawn up to where he stood. Then, not waiting for the plank to be put down, he leaped on board and faced the astonished missionary, who looked his amazement as he recognized him.

Before the other could find words, Mr. Wang, making a low bow hurriedly asked forgiveness in a few humble words. He ended by saying, "I know, sir, you are not what people say you are. I was wrong, forgive me. If you will take me back I will be glad to teach you."

While he was speaking the missionary's face was a study – surprise, annoyance, relief, pleasure – all came in turn. The missionary, who could now speak the Chinese language a little, laid Ids hand kindly on the young man's shoulder and said:

"Not a word more, Mr. Wang. I am in need of a teacher so you may consider yourself engaged, but you must be ready to start back with us three days from now."

The poor fellow looked his gratitude but could find no words. As he turned to leave the missionary called him back and said in a low voice as he handed him some money, "Take this, you have a wife and she must be provided for, we will reckon later." This thoughtful act completed the capture of Mr. Wang's heart. From that moment he became the devoted follower of the missionary although as yet he knew nothing of his message.

Three days later found Mr. Wang settled in his little "tsang" or cabin on the missionary's houseboat. Next to his was the larger cabin occupied by the two missionaries as sleeping and living apartment. A partition of open woodwork covered with paper separated the two cabins. Mr. Wang had not been in his compartment very long before he had, in true Chinese fashion, by moistening the tip of his finger and applying it to the paper partition, made a hole sufficiently large to enable him to watch all that passed in the adjoining cabin without himself being seen. Day by day he spent every moment he could get at his self made vantage ground. How those men puzzled him! As he noticed how quiet and orderly, and above all how strangely happy they were, without being boisterous, he became conscious of a growing sense of respect and admiration. Before they had reached their destination, the missionary's home, Mr. Wang had lost every trace of doubt or fear of the foreigners.

Mr. – , the missionary, was a keen judge of character. His knowledge of human nature was gained in the slums of a so-called Christian city, and it was well for him that such experience had been gained before meeting the more complex problems of the Chinese character. As day by day the missionary studied with Mr. Wang he became more and more convinced that this man must meet Christ first in him, His representative, for he found him sharp, keen, critical, and alas, utterly untrustworthy. But the day came when Mr. Wang testified, when he was being received into the Church, "I learned first to love the Pastor, then to love his Saviour."

Part III – SLAVE'S RELEASE

Six years have passed since Mr. Wang entered on his duties as teacher to the missionary. During all those years he had been an invaluable assistant to Mr. – in the strenuous and difficult work of opening a new mission station at the large and important city of C – . The time had now come when it was thought best for Mr. Wang to bring his wife from their old home. A small cottage was secured just opposite the mission gate for them, and here a happier life began for Mrs. Wang than she had ever thought possible.

Mr. Wang, like so many Chinese Christian men, thought his wife too stupid to learn, and when she first came in touch with Mrs. – , the missionary's wife, she was practically a heathen. As she came in with little Spring, now a bright little girl of nearly seven, the foreign woman could scarcely hide her disappointment when she saw Mrs. Wang, she was so extremely (shall I use the word) ugly, so untidy, slouchy, and even far from clean. Yet there was a look in those small deep set eyes which said plainly, "Yes, I know how different I am from you, but oh, I do want you to love me." And the other felt herself strangely drawn to her. Before long a deep and abiding affection sprang up between the two, so different, yet at heart one.

Many times in the lesson periods that followed Mrs. – was tempted to give up in despair, Mrs. Wang was so slow to learn. One day after a particularly discouraging time of study, Mrs. Wang turned to her teacher and said, "Teacher Mother, do not be discouraged because my mind is like a sieve, for my heart has Jesus there."

The evidence of the new life within soon began to be seen in the changed, happier, more restful face, and in the cleaner, tidier garments. Willingly she allowed little Spring's feet to remain unbound, which meant much at that time when women and girls with unbound feet were unknown.

Although Spring had not the beauty of her older sister, Slave, she was bright, quick, in her ways like her father, and most affectionate. From the first contact with the missionaries the child's heart seemed open to the Gospel, she came soon to show a love for the Saviour unusual in one so young. The greatest treat little Spring could have in those early days was to be allowed to play with the gentle fair-haired foreign child of her own age.

One day the two children wandered outside the backgate into the fields beyond. Suddenly they came upon some dogs devouring the body of a little child. Spring, to whom such a scene was not unknown, looked on unmoved, but the tenderly guarded foreign child gazed in speechless horror, then screaming loudly ran towards home. Her mother, anxious at her disappearance, had just reached the gate when the child appeared almost frantic with terror and shock. A word was sufficient for the mother to learn the cause of the trouble. "Oh, Mother!" cried the child, sobbing on her mother's breast, "I see it now, a dear little baby. Oh, mother, mother, those terrible dogs. I can never forget it."

 

That night the mother knelt long beside her child's bedside. Other little ones had come and gone. This child seemed like a delicate lily, too sensitive and high strung for such a land as China, where outside the Mission Compound one could never tell when one would come upon a scene that might hurt and shock.

Some time later the child was taken ill. There was no doctor near and once more the parents went down into the Valley of the shadow of death with a precious child. Meningitis developed. Spring and her mother watched and waited outside the child's sick door for some word of hope. But after days of great suffering the little one was taken to where there will be "no more pain, neither sorrow nor crying."

A day later missionaries and Christians gathered about the open grave beside which rested the little coffin almost covered with beautiful flowers. It was then that Mrs. Wang recalled the cruel death of her two boys and what had been done with their little bodies. The contrast was indeed great: here were every token of love and honor for the precious remains; but what moved Mrs. Wang end went to her heart was the look of Hope written on the mother's face as they all sang together —

 
"Little children, little children.
Who love their Redeemer
Are the jewels, precious jewels,
His loved and His own.
 
 
"Like the stars of the morning
His bright crown adorning,
They shall shine in His beauty
His loved and His own."
 

As these words sank deep into Mrs. Wang's very soul, there came a great yearning that her own people might hear of this Gospel that gives a soul a hope after death.

***

Sometime after her little friend's death, Spring entered the mission school for girls, the first girls' school to be opened in that part of China. Year by year as they passed, Spring grew in the love and esteem of her teachers. Her bright, happy ways and true Christian character endeared her to all. But the one Spring loved most of all was the mother of the friend she never forgot. On one occasion when the writer was home on furlough, she received the following letter from Spring: "Dear Teacher Mother, Come back very soon. As one who is hungry longs for food and one who is thirsty for drink, so my heart longs for you!"

When fifteen years of age Spring graduated with such distinction that she was sent to the advanced school for girls in Peking. Upon her return she became assistant teacher in the Mission Girls' School.

About this time Mrs. Wang's health broke down. A little daughter had come whom they named "Brightness." Through all the months of weakness and failing health, the poor suffering woman showed forth a true spirit of patience and resignation. One day an urgent call came for the missionary's wife to go and see the sick woman. Hastening to the little cottage across the way, she found the court empty so entered the door unannounced, and passing through the outer room she lifted the curtain that served for door into the room where she could see dimly the form of her loved friend lying on the brick bed.

There was no mistaking the look which plainly told the last call had come to Mrs. Wang. Overcome with the shock of seeing the end so near, Mrs. – sank down beside her friend and wept bitterly. Slowly the dying woman raised her hand and stroked the head of the weeping woman, and with difficulty said, "Don't grieve for me. There is much I want to say, but the time is too short. Listen! My child, my little Slave, does not know about the Saviour. Help Spring to go to her before it is too late."

There was a long silence broken only by suppressed weeping from Spring who was standing by. Then Mrs. Wang continued, "And you, my friend; thank you again for bringing this precious Saviour to even me. And you have helped me so much."

"No, no," said Mrs. – unable to keep silence longer. "It is you who have helped me. Your patience under trial has been a constant rebuke to me for my impatience." She could say no more for even while she was speaking the Glory of the unseen world seemed to shine on the dying woman's face.

***

Some months after her mother's death the way was opened for Spring to visit her father's old home. She had many times longed and prayed that she might fulfil her mother's dying request. With some difficulties Spring found where her sister lived and as she drew near the house her heart rose in earnest prayer for her sister's conversion.

An old woman responded to her knock at the gate, to whom Spring made herself known, then asked to see her sister. The old woman who turned out to be Slave's mother-in-law, directed her to the door of the room where we last parted with poor Slave – a broken-hearted bride.

Tapping gently on the door and receiving no answer, Spring entered. On the long brick bed at one end of the room lay her sister. The wasted frame and racking cough told all too plainly Slave's days on earth were few. As Spring stood looking at her sister for a moment, almost too overcome to speak, she thought of her mother's words, "before it is too late."

For three days Spring remained with her sister. Fortunately for them both Slave's husband was not at home, and the old mother-in-law left them alone only too glad to have someone to relieve her from waiting on the sick one.

When Spring described to her sister their mother's beautiful death, tears ran down Slave's cheeks as she said, "Oh, that I too could have such a hope!"

"You can, my sister," eagerly cried Spring. "I have come as mother wished, to tell you how you can go to where she is." Then patiently and lovingly she opened up to her sister, step by step, the glorious Gospel of a Saviour from sin and a hope after death. Slave listened and drank in the message as one parched with thirst would drink from a living spring.

Once when the sisters were talking closely together, Slave suddenly broke into a passion of uncontrollable weeping. Then came little by little as she had strength to tell it, the story of those terrible years since she left her father's home. At last as if words failed her, she loosened her garment and revealed her shoulders and back covered with bruises and healed scars, silent witnesses to the cruelty of the past.

Gradually the Peace and Hope born of her new found faith came into Slave's poor starved soul. And as the sisters parted never as they knew well to meet again on earth, Slave said, "Yes, it is different now, I shall be in heaven before you. I have no more fear now. But pray for my husband."