A Day Among the Karens by Mary Gibbs

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · Jul 13, 1916

A Day Among the Karens

By Mary Gibbs

MARY GIBBS

ONE morning soon after I came to Kamamaung [in Burma], some men came in a small, leaky, dugout canoe to get me to go to an island about three miles down the Salwin River, where a thoo-gyi’s baby was dying (a thoo-gyi is the headman of a village). After hurriedly gathering together a few medical supplies, I went with the men. The river was very high, so the swift current swept us along, and I was at my destination in twenty minutes; but the baby was beyond help, and died before anything could be done to relieve it. These people were all heathen, and strangers to me.

Sometimes these ignorant people, whose religion is devil worship, blame a Christian if he is present at a death, even though he has had nothing to do with the case. So I could not help feeling a little anxious until the father expressed his feelings. Even while wrapping the child’s body, which was buried at once, the thoo-gyi said that he had waited one day too long, or his baby might have been saved.

An hour or so later, when the family had become quiet, the thoo-gyi sent out for all the sick people in the village to come to his house. Some were so shy that when they came to the veranda and saw me, they would not come in; but there was no escape then, for the thoo-gyi would go himself, take them by the arm, and bring them in. There were many cases of sore eyes among the children, and he held the little ones over his knee to have the medicine dropped into their eyes.

After all the sick had been attended, I told them a little of the gospel story, mentioning the resurrection. On the return trip the boat leaked until several times it was nearly filled with water. We were caught in a tropical rain, so I was wet, hungry, and tired; but the day’s work was not done, for a crowd of people were waiting for me.