Children -- India; India -- Social life and customs; Missions -- India
The girls were jewelled and crowned with flowers, and they looked like
flowers themselves; flowers in moonlight have a mystery about them not
perceived in common day, but the mystery here was something wholly
sorrowful. Everything about the children--they were hardly more than
children--showed care and refinement of taste. There was no violent
clash of colour; the only vivid colour note was the rich red of a silk
underskirt that showed where the clinging folds of the white
gold-embroidered _sari_ were draped a little at the side. The effect was
very dainty, and the girls' manners were modest and gentle. No one who
did not know what the pretty dress meant that night would have dreamed
it was but the mesh of a net made of white and gold.
But with all their pleasant manners it was evident the two girls looked
upon us with a distinct aloofness. They glanced at us much as a
brilliant bird of the air might be supposed to regard poultry, fowls of
the cooped-up yard. Then they melted into the shadow of an archway
behind the moonlit space, and we went on to another street and came upon
little Sellamal, the harebell child; and, sitting down on the verandah
which opens off the street, we heard her lessons as we have told, and
got into conversation with her adopted mother.
We found her interested in listening to what we had to say about
dedicating children to the service of the gods. She was extremely
intelligent, and spoke Tamil such as one reads in books set for
examination. It was easy to talk with her, for she saw the point of
everything at once, and did not need to have truth broken up small and
crumbled down and illustrated in half a dozen different ways before it
could be understood. But the half-amused smile on the clever face told
us how she regarded all we were saying. What was life and death
earnestness to us was a game of words to her; a play the more to be
enjoyed because, drawn by the sight of two Missie Ammals sitting
together on the verandah, quite a little crowd had gathered, and were
listening appreciatively.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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