p. 10 | AMERO, THE FAMINE BOY by M. D. H. Lee

Pacific Press Publishing Company · Oakland, California · Jun 8, 1904

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 30, No. 23.

AMERO, THE FAMINE BOY.

By M. D. H. Lee

In the land of the brave Rajputs, the warrior race of India, lived a little boy. He was a bright, happy, affectionate child by nature, and loved his father and mother, brothers and sisters, as other boys do. His father was a shepherd. And Amero, for that is his name, often watched his father's sheep in the broad fields about them. To be sure, their home was but a thatched hut made of mud, with floor and walls of the same. The bed was hard, his food coarse, and he had never seen a school, neither had he ever heard of the true God, for his people worshiped idols. Just outside their door was the god of stone, under the tree which was the family shrine, where Amero's mother had led him since a child, with the offerings of flowers and grain, teaching him, who knew not why, to worship the cold, dumb image before him. If sickness or sorrow came into their little home, then the god was supposed to be angry, and must be appeased by some special gift or sacrifice.

But Amero's mother, tho a heathen woman, loved her boy. Dark days came to this home, as they did to all the homes of the land. The heavens became brass and refused to give rain. The hot sun, over whose face never came a cloud, baked the parched earth until all the living green became dry stubble. The sheep died, the grain of the past year was exhausted. The devoted father denied himself to feed his children. They sacrificed to the idol under the tree; still help came not. Their stock of food became less and less, until none was left. They gathered roots and every possible eatable thing, and grew thinner and fainter. Finally one brother sickened and died, then another. An older sister, too faint to rise, slowly sank away. The father soon followed, his strong frame yielding to the power of hunger, and the fever of famine soon dried up the last spark of life. These only were left, Amero, his mother, and a little sister.

One day a herald passed through the village, telling the suffering ones that the king had commanded a bianna (a grain merchant) in a certain center to deal out to the starving ones parched peas and grain, but the news had come too late to many. Amero looked out of his wild, hungry eyes upon his mother, who no longer could rise, but what could he do, and the sister, too, so little and weak. The mother answered the inquiring gaze and said: “My son, you can still walk, leave us and go and get food; if not for us, eat yourself and live. Go, and the gods be merciful to you.” He sadly bade them farewell and started on that long search after food. He was joined by many another starving boy, and men and women, desperate with the pangs of hunger. They wandered from place to place, eating the barks of trees, seeds of grass, and leaves, but growing weaker every day, until, dropping down by the roadside, Amero thought he must surely die, as many were doing all about him. To his despair he was roused by a kind voice which said, “Come with me, and a missionary lady will give you food. Come.” It was a Bible woman who had been sent out in search of starving ones. Amero raised himself from the ground, hope took possession of his heart, and new strength seemed to come into his weary, wasted limbs, as he rose and followed the kind woman. She brought him, and others, into a large compound, where soon there was dealt out to them small quantities of bread, baked like large buckwheat cakes. How greedily they snatched the food from the hands of the giver! In a day or two the missionary lady appeared and said to Amero:— “Do you want to leave this sad country and go with these other boys to Calcutta, where some missionaries will give you a home, plenty of food and clothes, and send you to school?” He thought of freedom from want and suffering, and then of the bare little hut, where lay his mother and little sister so far away, and he so weak. The lady continued: “If you remain here you will die. There is no water nor food, and no hope of rain for many days. Come along.”

He consented, and left his country, but his heart was still with the suffering mother and sister whom he was so unable to help.

After three weary days of travel, sick and faint, he reached his new home. He was in the midst of wholesome food, and plenty of pure water. The refreshing bath revived him, and clean new clothes took the place of the filthy rags. He also heard of a God, a loving Father, who cared for all, but who was angry with the wicked every day. His heart still ached as he sat and thought of the dear ones starving in the homeland. Soon he became strong and well and happy in his new home. Five months after there came a new lot of starving children and women from his famine-stricken country.

Amero walked from group to group, asking them from what village they had come, longing for a word from his own home, when suddenly his eye fell upon a dirty bundle of rags in the midst of a group of women and children. There was a wild cry of joy as the little weak creature from out of the bundle stretched her puny arms towards him. Could it be? Had God heard? Yes; it was his sister, and soon they were locked in each other's arms, and tears of joy were streaming down their faces. They mingled their tears for a while, too happy to speak. Amero longed to know of his mother, yet feared the answer. Soon he ventured the question:— “Where is mother?” “Mother died soon after you had gone,” she said, “and I left her in the hut and came away with a band of other children, trying to find you. I was sick with small-pox, and lay very ill and weak, but some one carried me to a relief camp, and from there, as soon as I was strong enough, I went in search of you. But I got too weak and hungry, and, as I came to the station, hoping some one would give me food, I heard a lady putting into a car a number of starving children, and promising them food and a nice home. I did not know where they were going, but I said to her, ‘I am starving; take me, too,’ and, just as the train was moving away, she snatched me into the car. But how did you come here, brother?”

Amero was heard to say to the other boys that night after prayers:— “I know this God we have heard about is the true God, for it was He who brought me here and spared my life, and let me hear about Him; and then, five months afterwards, He brought my little sister to me. And I intend to serve this God as long as I live.” Amero, a few weeks later, asked to be baptized, saying he wished to be a Christian boy and live for God, who had so wonderfully saved him.— M. D. H. Lee.