ark faces. Behind
us, then, black walls, black bars, a black shape; before us the black
meeting, black losing itself in black. Around us light, light shining
into the black. That was as it was a year ago. Now we are back at
Dohnavur, and almost the first place we went to was this village, where
we had taken the light and set it up in the heart of the dark. An
earnest young schoolmaster had been sent to keep that light burning
there, and we went expectantly. Had the light spread? We went straight
to our old friend's house. She was as friendly as ever in her queer,
rough, country way, but her heart had not been set alight. "Tell me what
is the good of your Way? Will it fill the cavity within me?" and she
struck herself a resounding smack in the region where food is supposed
to go. "Will it stock my paddy-pots, or nourish my bulls, or cause my
palms to bear good juice? If it will not do all these good things, what
is the use of it?"

"If it is so important, why did you not come before?" The dear old woman
who asked that lived here, and we searched through the labyrinthic
courtyards to find her, but failed. The girl who listened in her pain is
well now, but she says the desire she had has cooled. We found two or
three who seem lighting up; may God's wind blow the flame to a blaze!
But we came back feeling that we must learn more of the power of prayer
ourselves if these cold souls are to catch fire. We remembered how, when
we were children, we caught the sunlight, and focussed it, and set bits
of paper on fire; and we longed that our prayers might be a lens to
focus the Love-light of our God, and set their souls on fire.

Just one little bit of encouragement may be told by way of cheer.
Blessing went off one day to see if the Village of the Warrior were more
friendlily inclined, and Golden went to the Petra where they vowed they
would never let us in. Before Blessing entered the village she knelt
down under a banyan tree, and, remembering Abraham's servant, prayed for
a sign to strengthen her faith that God would work in the place. While
she prayed a child came and looked at her; then seeing her pray, she
said, "Has that Missie Ammal sent you who came here more than a year
ago?" Blessing said "Yes." Then the child repeated the chorus we had
taught the children that first day. "None of us forget," she said; and
told Blessing how the parents had agreed to allow us to teach if ever we
should return. The village had been opene