Think of your own happy childhood, of mother and your bright home; of
your church, your Sunday-school, and your day-school; of the bright,
happy hours you spend in play; of the laughing, chubby, clean, and
healthy children of our own cities. Think; and now come with me through
the city of Sao Paulo, where we see people of all nations and colours,
from the blackest negro to the whitest European.
[Illustration: PALMS, LILIES AND BABY BLOSSOMS]
We will pay a visit to some bright, budding blossoms of humanity who
have been gathered from streets and places of wickedness, and planted
in a beautiful Home standing in its own grounds, lying on the outskirts
of the town. Here thirty-six little human “blossoms” live and
flourish under the motherly and fatherly care of Mr and Mrs Cooper,
their daughter, and other workers.
The story of the first “blossom” is that while Mr and Mrs Cooper were
doing missionary work in another part of Brazil, a little baby girl
was given to them by her mother, who was quite out of her mind. The
poor wee mite was little more than skin and bones, but loving care and
plenty of good food soon transformed her into a bonnie maiden.
To describe all these thirty-six “blossoms” would fill a book. The
Blossom Home is one of the brightest spots in Brazil to-day, and it is
a real joy to leave the city and to hurry away at sunset over the low
fields, with the wide sky on all sides coloured always with different
hues, and the fresh, cool breath of evening, while a bevy of expectant
children await your appearance under the pines and palms of the walk
to the house. That these little ones were ever poor, or diseased, or
homeless, does not seem possible as we mingle with them at the evening
play-hour.
That Tecla was ever anything but a sweet-faced yellow-haired child,
that Baby was ever thin and wrinkled, that Bepy was ever serious,
or Rosa not always happy, seems so long ago as not to belong to the
present age of the Home. One “blossom” came all the way from Maranham,
a city more than 2000 miles away from Sao Paulo, which shows how much
such orphanages are needed in Brazil.
It would be nice to stay here and make their further acquaintance, to
see the little ones in the kindergarten, and the older ones at their
lessons. It would be interesting to spend a Sunday at this haven, and
to see the keen interest they display in missions and missionaries.
During the week, at morning worship they are trained to look out over
the whole world, and to pray for a particular place each day. At
Sunday-school they, of their own accord, have a collection amongst
themselves, and every week they try to do something extra, for which
they are paid, and out of this they freely give to the missionary
box. They send to the child-widows of India, to the school for blind
children at Jerusalem, and to other missions in which they are
interested.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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