By Mary Vee
Year: September 1931
Amy Carmichael: 63 years old
From Amy's Journal
Photo Courtesy |
The doors to our mission hospital opened to the public. I was not in the least surprised to see people who had traveled for many miles to receive medical treatment.
The patients stood in long lines waiting their turn.
Many pulled me aside as I walked the halls. "The people who work here are missionaries?"
"Yes." I answered them.
"They are so kind, so caring. No one complains and everyone listens to our need."
I knew the people whom God had called here had these tender hearts. And to think, in a way, even the children have been called here. God directed their paths to help them find this place of refuge.
Sometimes the hospital was filled with patients. So many people hurting. It was these times that we gave the little children their job. They held lanterns and walked the paths around the hospital singing Christian song. Imagine those sweet young voice singing. The sound soothed those who cried in pain and helped them fall asleep.
Oh how blessed my heart was. My mind raced with more projects needing to be done, but there were times when even I was blessed and soothed by the children's songs.
The hospital was in good care, leaving me the opportunity to do other work. A few of the women staff workers from Dohnavur went with me to check on the renovations for a new clinic in Kalakaua. The village was a few miles away from the mission compound.
By the time we arrived, the sun would be ready to set. It would be dark soon. The wind blew, ruffling our clothes. I pulled my sari tight around my shoulders and stepped out of the car. I looked at the buildings and saw a small one to the side. This one would be our outhouse.
I walked toward the little building wanting to see if the workers had begun digging. Dusk created shadows. I took another step and slipped down. Down. Down I fell. Into a pit I hadn't expected. Not there.
"Help!" No one came. Where had everyone gone? "Help!"
I clawed at the dirt lining the pit. Fire burned in my ankle. I didn't know if I had broken it or severely sprained it. Either way I couldn't put any weight on it. "Please help!"
Come back next week to read more of Amy Carmichael.
Resources used for this series:.
Benge, Janet, and Geoff Benge. Amy Carmichael: Rescuer of Precious Gems. Seattle, WA: YWAM Pub., 1998. Print.
Davis, Rebecca Henry. With Daring Faith: A Biography of Amy Carmichael. Greenville, SC: Bob Jones UP, 1987. Print.
Dick, Lois Hoadley. Amy Carmichael: Let the Children Come. Chicago: Moody, 1984. Print.
Meloche, Renee Taft., and Bryan Pollard. Amy Carmichael: Rescuing the Children. Seattle, WA: YWAM Pub., 2002. Print.
Wellman, Sam. Amy Carmichael: A Life Abandoned to God. Uhrichville, OH: Barbour Pub., 1998. Print.
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Let Amy hear from you!
Let Amy hear from you!
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