Those who have grown up in the midst of free institutions, under the protection of law, and in the light of publicity, can really have no idea of the difficulties to be encountered by the Moslem woman who becomes a Christian. A man can escape by flight, but this refuge is denied her. Even if she wish to keep her change of faith secret, it is impossible to do so, and be true to her new-found Saviour. The whole warp and woof of her daily life are so bound up with religious observances, and the least failure to perform them is so jealously noted, the least endeavor to fulfil the commands of the Gospel with regard to Sabbath rest, reading the Word, or secret prayer is at once the object of remark and criticism; often of active opposition. Were it not so her changed life and character mark her out as walking in a different path and measuring her conduct by another standard from those who surround her. She is most happy if, as sometimes happens, her husband, brother, father, or son is in sympathy with her, and has perhaps been the means of her enlightenment; or if a sister or friend is of like faith, and they can strengthen each other. But often she stands entirely alone in her family and social circle, and must bear much petty persecution, even if she is not turned out of her home, does not lose her children, or her life. In such circumstances, if a convert stand firm, and even win her enemies to accept Jesus, it is a genuine miracle. Yet it is seen to occur.
Words cannot tell the beauty of some of these transformed faces: the sweetness plucked from bitterness, the "lily among thorns." The present help of a living Saviour and the wonderful hopes for the future have made life an entirely different thing. One such who had borne a heavy yoke in her youth, had suffered deeply, and with rancor and rebellion in her heart against him who had blighted her life, has learned to forgive and pray for the one who so deeply injured her; and her daily household life is a triumph of grace. During a cholera epidemic, when all around were panic-stricken, she and her sisters, who have found the like precious refuge, were perfectly calm, saying, "Why should we fear death? It can only take us to Jesus, which is far better; as living or dying we are His."
One old woman walked three miles and back once a week in order to be instructed in the Gospel, and is never satisfied, always wants to learn more, and takes great pains to remember texts and prayers. Once after the others had gone she caught hold of me, saying, "Do you think I walk all these miles, with my blind eyes, to learn nothing? Come and teach me some more." Showing some hard barley bread, she said, "No one shall say I come for food; I have brought my own bread."
Another woman, whose paralytic son had learned to read the Bible, said, "At first I did not care for it, but little by little I got to love it." It worked a transformation in that humble home; the son in his first despair had attempted to poison himself; but he learned to praise God for the affliction which was the means of acquainting him with his Saviour. The mother instead of considering the helpless young man a burden, and complaining of the misfortune, nursed him for years with such rare patience and tenderness, that we marvelled to see it. The contrast between her and her neighbors is marked; her face is gentle and kind, her voice sweet. She is faithful, industrious, and honest; for a whole summer when a family was absent, she went alone every week to sweep the house, and not a thing was ever missed, though, in general, we expect nothing better than pilfering and theft from the women of the country.
In one city is gathered a little band of believing women, who hold a weekly prayer meeting, and "it is most touching to hear their simple requests and pleading for this and that one still outside the fold. When I was going to B—— they gave me a message for the sisters there. They had long taken a special interest in the work in that place, and never failed to remember it at the throne of grace. They had heard several women there were secret believers, but afraid to confess their faith openly, so they sent word to them that they themselves were once in the same state. They feared to confess Christ before men, but He had promised to be with them, and He had given them grace to come out boldly, and He had kept His promise to give peace and joy in all times of trial and difficulty. They then begged their sisters to do as they had done, to take the plunge, trusting in His power to help them, and they would find all their fears taken away and courage given instead."
Such, living and dying, was the experience of Almass of Urumia. She had become a Christian, and her husband also had suffered great persecution from her own family on this account. Her husband being away, she was living in her father's house, and her stepmother would not even give her enough to eat, constantly reviled her, made her life bitter, and did her best to prevent her praying. Being stricken with consumption, she went to the hospital, where she rejoiced in Christian companionship and instruction, but at the last, she was taken to her own home to die. A young Nestorian doctor, called in to attend her, witnessed her triumphant death; himself but a nominal Christian, he exclaimed, "Would that I could die so happy!" Her whole trust was in Jesus, and her only anxiety that her little daughter should be trained in the same faith.
Almass means diamond, and in the day when the Lord "makes up His jewels" she will surely be among them.
Far away in the isles of Bahrein,
Down under the depths of the sea,
The Persian diver gathers his shells
For the goodly pearls that shall be.
And what is the price of a goodly pearl?
A merchant man once for one,
'Tis said, sold all he ever possessed,
And counted the deed well done.
And what is the price of a human soul?
The price it is set so high
The Son of God gave all that He had
When He came on earth to buy.