Daughters of the Cross: or Woman's MissionEddy, Daniel C. (Daniel Clarke)
History
Daughters of the Cross: or Woman's Mission
Eddy, Daniel C. (Daniel Clarke)
Women -- Biography; Women missionaries
There is mentioned of her a most beautiful incident which occurred when
about to part with her children, who were to visit America to commence a
course of instruction not to be obtained in Burmah. When the vessel was
about to sail, and Mr. Kincaid, who was to conduct them to this country,
was ready to go on board, Mrs. Comstock took her two children and led them
forth towards the ocean which would soon part her from them forever, and,
kissing the cheek of each, committed them to the care of Him who holds the
storms in his hand and controls the tempests as he will. It cost a struggle
such only as a mother's heart can feel and realize; and, as she kissed them
for the last time and gave them to her husband, she turned her streaming
eyes to heaven and exclaimed, _"O Jesus, I do this for thee!"_
It was the last time. The vessel spread her canvas to the gales of heaven,
and the children of the devoted woman were wafted from her, to see her face
no more; and when next they meet, it will be before the great white throne,
where the secrets of all hearts will be revealed, and where the Savior will
place upon the head of his servant a crown of glory, and declare, in the
hearing of an assembled world, _"This, beloved disciple, I do for thee!"_
It will be a delightful recompense for all the trials, inflictions, and
sufferings of a missionary life, and will more than compensate the most
self-sacrificing of all earth's children for the most toilsome labors, the
most severe trials. Far happier will be he whose brow is encircled with
such a crown than he who in this life is hailed as a royal emperor and led
in chains of gold from throne to throne, from kingdom to kingdom.
One of our poets has thrown this beautiful incident into rhyme. One verse
of his poem we repeat:--
"One burning kiss, one wild good by;
Put off, put off from shore!
In mercy to the mother fly,
And swiftly waft them from her eye,
For she can bear no more!
She knelt and cried, as o'er the sea
Faded their forms like sunset ray,
'_O Savior, I do this for thee!_'
And, sobbing, turned away."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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