Letters of a Javanese Princess

by Raden Adjeng Kartini

After having had days of rain, we went out one morning to see how our flower children were getting along. We were afraid that they would have suffered from the over-abundant rain, but we found our rose-bushes full of green buds. The days came and the days went; our roses were full of luxuriant leaves and of beautiful blossoms. Rain, rain, they needed it, before they could bear those splendid blossoms.

Rain—rain—the soul needs it in order to grow and to blossom.

Now we know that our tears of today serve only to nourish the seed, from which another, higher joy will bloom in the future.

Do not struggle, do not complain and curse sorrow when it comes to you. It is right for sorrow to exist in the world too; it has its mission. Bow your head submissively before suffering. It brings out the good that is in the heart. But the same fire which purines gold, turns wood into ashes.

Now I want to tell you how it was that we happened to get into touch with Nellie Van Kol. Perhaps you have already read something about it in the paper. One evening in the latter part of April, we had a visit from the Heer Van Kol. He was sent to us by a Dutch lady, who has much sympathy for the cause of your sisters. It was one of the most pleasant meetings of our whole lives. Already, long ago, he had won our esteem through what he has been to Java, and the Javanese. But the personal meeting secured for him a place in our love. It is delightful to meet superior people. It was a great occasion in our lives, when we met your dear parents, it was a turning point for us; it waked us up to reality. Before that we had only seemed to live, we had been asleep, always sleeping and dreaming. Now we are alive, fighting and struggling, hoping, despairing, suffering and rejoicing, weeping and laughing; that is life. We have climbed to the heights of joy, and we have descended into the depths of misery. I am happy just to be alive.

I have heard from your mother that you sympathize with our struggles and ideas; and you have told us so yourself. So it will certainly please you to know there are others who are interested in our cause; superior people like Heer Van Kol and his wife.

We told the Heer Van Kol everything. It was to hear about our plans that he had come, and he promised to support our endeavours with all his might; just as your father has promised to do. Are you not glad that the cause of your sisters has found a warm defender in Holland—in the council halls of the country? He will do everything that he can to help us. He asked us if we would not write to his wife; she would prove a true, faithful advisor. He spoke of his wife with such love and respect he called her his guide and his counsellor. It touched us to hear a man—and such a man—speak so of a woman. Would that there were more such men—who would see the highest in woman and honour her for it.

I did not let the grass grow under my feet; immediately after he had left, I wrote to his wife. Was it instinct—I wonder! for when I was writing to her I had no feeling at all that it was to an utter stranger, which was the fact. It had been the same way, when I was talking to her husband. As though she had been my mother, I blurted out without reserve, just what I felt. It was easy to be frank with her husband, for he was so modest, so friendly, met us so cordially, and was so fatherly towards us. I am glad that I followed the voice of my heart and wrote at once to Mevrouw Van Kol. We received a letter from her at once—and such a letter! We feel ourselves rich in her sympathy. God has given us as a gift, the heart of a true friend, and through that friend's heart, he has found us himself. If I could only tell you how happy we are.

"We will find the right human friends, when we cease to seek for support among men, but depend upon ourselves and upon our Father—God." We are deeply grateful to Nellie for that. Again she says: "The loveliest and best among us are but weak blundering creatures; nestle on your Father's heart, he will heal your wounds and dry your tears."

In the days since I have begun this letter something very unpleasant has happened. Before our acquaintance with Nellie, it would have plunged us into despair, but now it is different. We do not seek consolation from men—we hold fast to His hand, and then the darkness becomes light, and the storm wind a gentle breeze.