That men may learn the secret of my power,
And meet each trouble with their face aglow,
And voice their praises in the midnight hour;
For when our helplessness cries unto thee,
Thy power descends in Christ to set us free.”
From of old the scholars and writers of all lands have desired and sought for literary glory, and have considered it far more precious than gold or gems. In no country has this been more true than in China. Some of the greatest of this land have passed through much privation and suffering to attain this end. It is not of one of these I wish to write.
“Literary Glory” was the name of a young girl who entered the Bridgman School twelve years ago. She was a bright, pleasant girl, and had many friends. She was a good student and during the years of her school life her teachers came to see there was in her the making of a strong, true woman. She was engaged to a young man of good character, but neither he nor his family had any interest in Christianity.
Seven years ago she left her school home for [[93]]the home of her husband who lived in the village of Lu T’ai, fifteen miles northeast of Peking. A year ago the writer visited her in her village and at night shared the same room. It was a wonderful story she told as she poured out her heart to her friend. Would you could have heard it. I give it to you as best I can remember. She said, “When I went to my husband’s home I made up my mind that I would work and pray with all my might to bring him and his mother to know and love Jesus. God only knows what I had to endure. I was so homesick for my school friends, so longed to go to church and prayer-meeting. There was only one other Christian in the place and he was away most of the time. The day after I was married my husband took all my books and cards and put them in the fire. I did not dare let him see me cry, but in the dead of night I poured it all out to God and was comforted.”
“In this home I have been but a servant to his grandmother, mother, and sisters, but my reward has come to me because they all love me, and my husband and his mother have become Christians. I have had to work very hard from early morning till late at night. In summer time I have worked all day, ploughing, spading, hoeing, and cutting the grain. Five [[94]]years ago, during the heavy rains, our house fell down and we were too poor to hire enough men to rebuild, so I helped make the mud bricks and when they came to building the walls I sent up to them all the mud and plaster used. With my own hands I plastered the inside walls and cleaned up the court, but,” said the dear girl as she took my hand, “it is such a joy now and God has been good to me.”
Much more we said in the hours of the night. How my heart ached as she told me how she had longed with such a longing for Christian fellowship and companionship. She talked of her school life, and the comfort she had as she recalled what she had learned. She was teaching her two little sisters, hoping they could go up to the Bridgman School.