lamenting womenfolk; and the helpless babe casting her black eyes
from one to another. Some people will insist on anticipating the
Almighty (the child is dead, though).

Saw a child to-day the very image of a mouse; two months' illness;
large ears; black eyes; thin, bony hands; huddled together.

Very busy afternoon.

Funerals at 4 p.m.; eighteen corpses; "En God zal alle tranen van
hunne oogen afwisschen" (And God shall wipe away all tears from their
eyes).

How can one's heart remain hard? Can one be unmoved when you see
weeping, stricken mothers kneeling in anguish beside their infants'
graves?

Love, after all, is the greatest and most mysterious of all things.

Explain it that a mother can cling to a helpless, idiotic, deformed
boy for fourteen years, and feed him mouth to mouth! Explain that a
mother can sit up night and day, day and night, with a sick child!
Look at those deep-set eyes, sorrow-sunken, their care-wornness, and
tell me what is this Love that endureth all things!

Two things have I learnt during these fourteen days which till now to
me were "all fancy"--the meaning of Love and the thing called
Religion.

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