India by C. A. HANSEN

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · May 30, 1907

India

By C. A. HANSEN

None but those who have been in the midst of Indian living can imagine the privation and hardship to which the great mass of poor people must submit themselves in order to live. It is true that these poor souls do not have many expenses; but this is not because they would not like to have many other things. The only way they get along cheaply is by going without the many little things that go to make up the life of the average American or European. No one enjoys being well-dressed better than the native of India, but he simply can not get the pice (money). They like bright colors in clothing, and to have plenty; but the father who labors early and late for a salary of from sixteen to thirty cents, and supports a large family, pays rent, and buys food, must necessarily not waste his pennies. One thing all must admire among this unfortunate class is that they never murmur, never grumble, and are always willing to share their sorrows or joys alike with any one who is their neighbor.

Naturally they are not very well acquainted with American taste in food. A little incident which happened in our experience near Bombay may help to illustrate how embarrassments and joys may mingle in the missionary's experience in India. Our servant's wife had suffered a great deal from malaria and other disturbances, and through the help of one of our nurses and the remedies we prescribed, the woman improved nicely, and, to show their appreciation, what did they do but present me with a large, heavy, thick pancake, made of flour and water (no yeast or saleratus), and baked over a little fire? Now came the embarrassment—what should we do with the cake? Knowing just how it was made, we felt that we did not wish it ourselves. But I would not refuse it, and so told my wife to tell the mollie (gardener) that it was good; he would not need to know that I did not eat it. But next day came another cake, and soon a third, and then the other neighbors brought us cakes. Now what to do with all these was quite a problem: to throw them out would surely anger the poor native, to burn them would be sin; but disposition had to be made of them all in some way, and it was just then the happy thought came to me that down the street a little way lay two or three blind people and lepers. And so after dark I gathered my little satchel full of cakes, and hastened down to the spot, where the cries of a hungry soul always meet the passer-by. Now I had the privilege of placing in outstretched hands large, heavy cakes, to hear from these poor people, in return, “God bless you.” Happy were their hearts; and so was mine, having thus solved one more of the problems of every-day Indian life.

C. A. HANSEN.