My eye caught these words from Jonah 2:3 in two journals of recent date, one from Europe, and one from North America. In addition to this title and the nature of the article, I was attracted by an accompanying picture.
My generation has seen the greatest wars in history, the greatest exodus of human beings from their homeland in search of food and freedom, the greatest disasters, the greatest deliberate mass slaying of men by man, and numerous other colossal tragedies that come in the same category as these "greatest" things. In fact, we have become so accustomed to such things that we are in the greatest danger of hardening our hearts to the sufferings of human beings in various parts of the world today. There has never been, for example, anything like the pitiful refugee problem of recent years, and it is by no means solved as yet.
The picture referred to in the first paragraph was of an old woman whose body was bent with years, and whose face was lined with suffering. She had passed through famine a number of times during her lifetime, and had been visited by the ravages of war, and found herself at last one of the world's pitiful refugees who not only had no home but could find none. She was one of those multitudes who in certain parts of the world endure so much, and then through sheer exhaustion just lie down on mother earth to die.
Someone found her, and eventually she was in a refugee camp. From one camp to another and from one country to another, this poor old woman traveled till she was again left without hope. Finally, after much more traveling, she found herself in a newly built home for refugees from disaster and famine. Kind hearts in different parts of the world had provided the means for the erection of this simple refugee home in Italy.
A kind hand laid hold of this delicate old woman whose poignant story now reaches its climax. When she was led into her little room the kindly guide took her wizened hand and put it on the soft pillow, which was henceforth to be the resting place of her weary head. The guide put the woman's hand between the cool, clean sheets that were provided for her comfort till the end of her days. Then the two of them went to this piece of furniture and that. Each time she ran her fingers all over furniture, floors, walls. Finally she was led to the faucet in the corner of the room where the unknown luxury of running water was made clear to the amazed little woman. By this time tears were streaming down the wizened old face, and with feelings quite beyond control she knelt and kissed the feet of her gracious guide.
You see, that poor soul was not only old, and a refugee, and a sufferer from disaster, and famine, and persecution, and hunger—she was also blind!
That little room, provided by small gifts and loving hearts from all over the world, will provide a haven for that dear old woman who passed through fire and flood, war and hunger, exile and loneliness, through no fault of her own that we know of.
Maybe I was in the right mood when I read that little story. I certainly am never going to forget it. I shall think of that poor soul living in darkness, yet enjoying the light of heaven through the kindly deeds of Christian souls here and there. I trust that as we think of this story we will make our gifts to the Disaster and Famine Relief Offering, May 13, 1961, larger than heretofore. There are many others crying: "All... thy waves passed over me"!
H. W. Lowe
