Lotus Buds

The Project Gutenberg eBook, Lotus Buds, by Amy Carmichael This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org Title: Lotus Buds Author: Amy Carmichael Release Date: July 16, 2009 [eBook #29427] Language: English Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 ***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LOTUS BUDS*** E-text prepared by the Bookworm, Emmy, and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) from digital material generously made available by Internet Archive/American Libraries (http://www.archive.org/details/americana) Images of the original pages are available through Internet Archive/American Libraries. See Note: http://www.archive.org/details/lotusbuds00carmiala LOTUS BUDS The Great Rock. (Page 338.) The Great Rock. (Page 338.)LOTUS BUDS BYAMY WILSON-CARMICHAEL Keswick Missionary C.E.Z.M.S. AUTHOR OF "THINGS AS THEY ARE"; "OVERWEIGHTS OF JOY"; "THE BEGINNING OF A STORY," ETC. WITH FIFTY HALF-TONE ILLUSTRATIONS FROM PHOTOS SPECIALLY TAKEN FOR THIS WORK MORGAN AND SCOTT LD. 12 PATERNOSTER BUILDINGS LONDON MCMXII Copyright, Morgan & Scott Ld., 1909 FIRST EDITION, Quarto (Fifty Photogravure Illustrations) 2,000 Nov., 1909 EDITION DE LUXE (Fifty Photogravures on Japon Vellum) 250 Nov., 1909 OCTAVO EDITION (Fifty Half-tone Engravings) 5,250 July, 1912TO THOSE WHO CARE Dohnavur, Tinnevelly District, South India Christmas, 1909. Each for himself, we live our lives apart, Heirs of an age that turns us all to stone; Yet ever Nature, thrust from out the heart, Comes back to claim her own. Still we have something left of that fair seed God gave for birthright; still the sound of tears Hurts us, and children in their helpless need Still call to listening ears. Owen Seaman. From "In a Good Cause."FOREWORD TO THEPRESENT EDITION HEN first "Things as they are" trod the untrodden way, it walked as a small child walks when for the first time itW ventures forth upon young, uncertain feet. It has to walk; it does not know why: it only knows there is no choice about it. But there is an eager looking for an outstretched hand, and an instant gratefulness always, for even a finger. A whole hand given without reserve is something never forgotten. It was only a child after all, and it had not anticipated having to find its way alone among strangers. It had thought of nothing further than a very short walk among familiar faces. If it had understood beforehand how far it would have to walk, I doubt if it would have had the courage to start; for it was not naturally brave. But once on its way it could not turn back; and thanks to those kindly outstretched hands, it grew a little less afraid, and it went on. Then another small wayfarer followed. It also was very easily discouraged; an unfriendly push would have knocked it over at once. But nobody seemed to want to push so unpretentious a thing, so it gained courage and went on. And now a more grown-up looking traveller (though indeed its looks belie it) has started on its way; more diffident, if the truth must be told, than even its predecessors. For it thought within itself—Perhaps there will be no welcoming hands held out this time; hands may grow tired of such kind offices. But it has not been so. And now the sense of gratefulness cannot longer be repressed. All of which means that I want to thank sincerely those kings of the Book World—Reviewers—and those dwellers in that world who are my Readers, for their insight and the sympathy to which I owe so much. Once I read of a soldier who wrote a letter home from the midst of a battle, on a crumpled piece of paper laid upon a cannon ball. His home people he knew would overlook the appearance of the paper and the lack of various things expected in a letter written in a quiet room upon a study table. And he knew he could trust them not to bring too fine a criticism to bear upon the unstudied words hot from the battle's heart. I have thought sometimes that these books were not unlike that soldier's letter; and those who read them seem to me very like his home people, for they have been so generous in the kindness of their welcome. Amy Wilson-Carmichael. Dohnavur, Tinnevelly District S. India. Feb. 19, 1912.THE WRITER TO THE READER HE photographs (except two) were taken by Mr. Penn, of Ootacamund, whose work is known to all who care toT possess good photographs of the South Indian hills. The babies were a new experience to him, and something of a trial, I fear, after the mountains, which can be trusted to sit still. The book has been written for lovers of children. Those who find such young life tiresome will find the story dull, and the kindest thing it can ask of them is not to read it at all.CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE I. LOTUS BUDS 1 II. OPPOSITES 5 III. THE SCAMP 15 IV. THE PHOTOGRAPHS 23 V. TARA AND EVU 31 VI. PRINCIPALITIES, POWERS, RULERS 41 VII. HOW THE CHILDREN COME 51 VIII. OTHERS 61 IX. OLD DÉVAI 67 X. FAILURES? 75 XI. GOD HEARD: GOD ANSWERED 85 XII. TO WHAT PURPOSE? 95 XIII. A STORY OF COMFORT 103 XIV. PICKLES AND PUCK 113 XV. THE HOWLER 121 XVI. THE NEYOOR NURSERY 129 XVII. IN THE COMPOUND AND NEAR IT 141 XVIII. FROM THE TEMPLE OF THE ROCK 153 XIX. YOSÉPU 159 XX. THE MENAGERIE 169 XXI. MORE ANIMALS 183 XXII. THE PARROT HOUSE 191 XXIII. THE BEAR GARDEN 201 XXIV. THE ACCALS 215 XXV. THE LITTLE ACCALS 227 XXVI. THE GLORY OF THE USUAL 235 XXVII. THE SECRET TRAFFIC 245 XXVIII. BLUE BOOK EVIDENCE 253 XXIX. "VERY COMMON IN THOSE PARTS" 261 XXX. ON THE SIDE OF THE OPPRESSORS THERE WAS POWER 269 XXXI. AND THERE WAS NONE TO SAVE 279 XXXII. THE POWER BEHIND THE WORK 291 XXXIII. IF THIS WERE ALL 301 XXXIV. "TO CONTINUE THE SUCCESSION" 309 XXXV. WHAT IF SHE MISSES HER CHANCE? 321 XXXVI. "THY SWEET ORIGINAL JOY" 331