Part 22

Felt rather hopeless to-day; so much to do; quite at loss where to begin; inclined just to sit still.

Visited southern corner of camp; Mrs. De Lint poorly; read letter written by husband.

Gave out "briefies" for rice to some tents.

Astounded this evening by doctor, "Well, now, wasn't it fine that I got you the right to grant briefies?" And this is the Donation Store, quite independent of all Government Stores! A gentleman gave Mr. Becker L50 for things; these goods arrived yesterday. Really, doctor takes the cake--with baker and all! Told him a few gentle truths about these goods.

Letters from home; hope those groceries of mine will come along all right; and that order for L20 worth of stuff. May I succeed in getting the sole right of distribution when that arrives.

Champion writes that at present he cannot fulfil order; disappointing.

One does long so for something nice--some extras which here are quite unobtainable. Dry bread gets a bit monotonous after a while, and the "vrekvlijs" becomes nauseous as the days roll by. It thrusts its miserable, lean presence upon us day by day, and now it has become a dreaded nightmare.

"Kerkeraads vergadering" in tent this afternoon; six Elders to discuss Sunday services; the grumblers would not rest until they too had their own big marquee tent on the old site.

Suggested that we have only one morning service in new place and two afternoon services--one for old people at old place and one for young at new place; could take further steps later on for a double morning service if necessary; Elders agreeable; disperse.

Funerals; four; Mr. Van der Merwe died last night; felt sick myself, and made fool of myself at graveside; but really could not contain myself as they lowered the remains of Mr. Van der Merwe into grave; so big and fine a man; in flower of manhood; wife dead, child dead; so gentle and patient in his suffering; felt so drawn to him because of his huge helplessness. Hard lines! Hard lines! Poor Nurse Rouvier! After all these weeks of devoted, patient, hopeful attendance. It does make one feel rather low. Quite unable to make any sort of address at grave; sorry did not ask Mr. Otto.

Went through hospital; Mr. V.d.B. and Mr. Norval both dangerously ill; fear the worst; pneumonia; former hard character, but to-day quite softened; long talk; not yet saved; prayer; great suffering.

Read Psalm 27 to latter and prayed; very thankful.

Girlie Van der Berg in new ward very low; so weak. May God in His tender mercy hear our prayer and restore her!

Lenie Steyn; hysterical; delirious all day; last night great consternation; got her into hospital this morning.

Girl opposite her dying; mother's only child.

In men's ward little boy (14) died too.

Splendid meeting this evening; packed within and without(!).

Service of song; crowd half an hour before time; singing can be heard all through camp. May many a sad and weary heart have found in our singing a balm for the aching, longing heart.

Now for bed--glorious bed!

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Wednesday, September 25.--Deathbed; sorrowful topic to write upon, and yet why shirk it? Let me attempt what I have never before done--a description of a deathbed. It is but human to hasten over the tragic scenes of life, but this evening I want to tarry.

Something prompted me to make early visit to the hospital, so went before breakfast. In first ward went straight to little Mita Duvenhagen's bed, and her I found very bad--struggling hard to breathe; so young and yet so bitter a suffering!

From there called by Mrs. Van den Berg to new ward, to come quickly, as Lenie was dying. I went, and when I entered saw that God was going to take her away. Let me not attempt to describe her angelic little face of marble white, her beautifully chiselled nose, and her sweet little mouth! Silently we knelt around her bedside--mother, nurse, and I. Of her beautiful blue eyes I have said nothing, for they were closed--the lids gently drawn, and the lashes trying hard to kiss the soft smooth cheeks. "O God, come and help us! O Saviour, come and take Thy place beside her bed--hold her hand--take her in Thy tender arms and press her to Thy bosom! Bear her, Saviour, where Thou wilt, for with Thee she is safe. Comfort our hearts and give us to bend our heads in humble resignation--Thy will be done. Amen!"

"Lenie, Lenie, Lenie, mij kind, jou mammie is hier bij jou, en Jezus ook is hier om jou hand te hou--moenie bang wees nie, mij kind" ("My child, your mother is here, near you, and Jesus too is here to hold your hand--don't be afraid, child"). Under her weary eyelids she looked at us, and a large tear gathered in her left eye. It glistened like a diamond for a moment, and then became the possession of the sorrow-stricken mother. Then we were silent and watched. Slowly and gently the lids opened--now again we could look into those clear blue orbs. Wider--wider--and still wider they grow--uplifted, right away beyond the three forms of clay before her. See how the pupils dilate--they seem to swamp the blue! And so for a few short moments they remain. It was a gaze right beyond us to--- what! Will it be old-fashioned to suggest "Angels," perhaps! Until I grow wiser I shall hold fast to Angels. O, the mystery of the Unknown!

And slowly, gently those lids sink once more to rest--to rest indeed--for her spirit has fled. Peace, perfect peace!

How passing strange, how majestic in its simplicity, how weird in its tragic stillness--the passing of a Soul--the disunion of Body and Spirit! Is this Death? Then may I never fear its shadow!

Sunset and Evening Star!

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