We shall not be living to see it, but what will that matter? We have helped to break the path that leads to it, and that is a glorious privilege!
Do not be uneasy; my betrothed will not cut my wings short; the fact that I can fly is just what has raised me so high in his eyes. He will only give a larger opportunity to stretch out my wings; he will help me to broaden my field of work. He appreciates your Meiske for herself, and not as a possible ornament for his home.
[1] To Mevrouw Abendanon.
LXIV
August 8th, 1903.[1]
Do you know what day this is? It is the third anniversary of our meeting. Three years ago today, three simple, childlike girls received a costly gift from heaven, the gift of a friend after their own hearts! The childlike girls have grown to be women, life has furrowed wrinkles in the still young faces; their hearts have been through fire. Have they wasted and gone to ashes, or have they come forth from the fire purified?
Just now we have company; at the table where I sit there are five of us working. Justinah the wise woman came this morning and will stay until next week. We think her a treasure. She spends her time here usefully, teaches embroidery and is so severe when we are careless. When we make a mistake, she immediately pulls everything out. How rich I felt this morning when she laid her hand trustingly on my shoulder, while I explained something or other to her. Now she feels at home with us; I look with so much pleasure into her fine intelligent eyes; they say so much.
She is a dessa-child. Oh, how full of love is her calling! You would enjoy meeting her. She listens with attention when one speaks, and then asks such intelligent questions. If you ever come to our neighbourhood again, I hope to be able to take her to you. This clever little woman has already attended forty-eight women in child-birth, and she is such a young thing still, with all a child's eagerness.