Some years ago in a tiny village of southern India, (where the sun always shines, and there is never any ice or snow), a little brown-skinned baby girl was born. It may surprise you to know that her parents were very, very sad when they saw this little girl.
"What have we ever done to deserve this curse from the gods?" cried the baby's father. "Surely we have displeased them, and they are punishing us by sending us this girl when we wanted a son!"
It was the first child of these Hindu parents, and they had wanted a baby boy so very much, for they did not think little girls were very important. The parents only knew about that were images made of mud, wood, or stone, and were kept in grimy temples and cared for by the temple priests. Remembering all the offerings they had taken into the little whitewashed mud temples, and laid before the gods the mother wailed.
"Think of all the cocoanuts, the bananas, and the ghee we offered to them! And the leaves and flowers-what more could we have offered to please them?"
"I fully expected a son," repeated the unhappy father. "Well, we shall keep her, and perhaps if we name her after one of the gods, that will please them, and they will some day give us a son, too."
So the sweet little brown baby was named "Siddi" after one of the ugly Hindu gods that her parents worshipped, because they knew nothing of the true and living God of heaven. Baby girls are so unwanted in India that they are often thrown into the jungle to be found and eaten by the wild forest animals. But God had a purpose for Siddi's life, so He caused her parents to keep her.
Little Siddi was carried everywhere on her mother's hip, for mothers in India always carry their babies in this way. Her mother and father were coolies, which means that they had to work hard every day for other people, doing all sorts of things. Sometimes they worked in other men's paddy fields, and Siddi would be carried on her mother's hip to the field, and then laid in the shade on the ground to play and sleep until it was time to stop work and go home for the night. Later, when she was a little older, she would toddle along behind her mother as she worked in the fields.
Then a little boy was born into their home, a little brother for Siddi. How happy they were! They brought many offerings to the gods to show them how grateful they were. But the little son did not live long, and when he died Siddi's father cruelly beat her mother in order to show his displeasure, and also to make the people of the village think that it was all her fault that the gods had allowed their son to die.
After that he would often beat her in his anger, because he wanted a son. Sometimes he would leave them for many days and even weeks. When he returned it was only to cruelly beat Siddi's mother again, and often Siddi, too, if she did not manage to run away and hide quickly enough. Soon they began to live in fear and dread of his coming.
Each day they went out to do coolie work for a few annas (pennies) in order to have something to eat. It was not always easy to get work, and when they could not they would go begging. If they still could not get anything they would steal whatever food they could find.
When Siddi was about six years old another little girl was born. When her father returned home soon afterward and found that he had another baby daughter he was furious. He beat Siddi's mother many times. He would have beaten Siddi, too, but she was nowhere to be found, for she had run quickly away as soon as she had seen her father coming. She and her mother had both expected him to be very angry, so she was hiding in the shadow of a nearby hut.
"I wish he would come out and go away soon," thought poor Siddi to herself. It was lonely, crouching out there, watching the door of the little mud hut that was home to her. Darkness deepened across the sky, her eyes grew heavy, and soon she fell asleep.
It was early morning when she awoke. The Muezzin was standing on top of one of the minarets of a nearby mosque, calling out in a loud chant the summons to prayer to which all Mohammedans respond at daybreak. Siddi sat up, and rubbed her sleepy eyes, and then remembered why she was out there. Stretching her cramped legs she got up and slipped quietly over to her own hut. Stooping down she peeped cautiously into the low doorway.
Her father seemed to be gone, for as she looked inside she saw only her mother, sitting on the mud floor, weeping and praying to an ugly little image that was their "house god" which was on the floor before her. With her heart aching for her mother, Siddi crept to her side. In the dim light of the windowless hut she could see the raised welts and caked blood on her mother's face and arms. Then she remembered her baby sister, but as she looked around she could not see her.
"Where is the baby, Mother?" she whispered.
"Your father took her away," her mother explained with tears. "Oh, Siddi, he beat me so cruelly, but I do not mind that so much. If only he had not taken the baby away in the night."
Tears were rolling down Siddi's cheeks, too, as she sat close to her mother. "Maybe we can find her, Mother," she cried at last. "Let's start right away. We can ask everyone we see, and perhaps some one will have seen where Father took her."
Stopping just long enough to pray once more to the little god who could not hear, and did not care, they started out. They looked in empty huts and sheds, and crossed fields, listening all the while for a little baby's cry. They asked many people, but no one could help them. The long hot day wore on, until finally they had to return home in weariness and discouragement. With an aching body, and an aching heart, Siddi's mother bowed again before the little idol and begged it for help.
For several weeks they searched in all the surrounding villages. They begged for food as they went along, and when they did not get enough to eat they stole whatever they could find, and trudging on to the next village would sell what they had stolen to buy food.
It was not a happy life-searching, inquiring, begging, stealing, and trudging on and on, day after day in the hot India sun. After two or three weeks Siddi's mother became very ill with fever. They were in a strange village where they knew no one and there was no one to care for them. They had no food, and nowhere for the sick mother to rest except the hot roadside. After several days of severe fever Siddi's mother died.
Now little six-year-old Siddi was left all alone in the world with no one to love or care for her. But she knew how to beg, and she knew how to steal, so she made her way from village to village, managing to get enough to survive. At night she slept in strawstacks, or out in the fields, or in any sheltered spot she could find. Her clothes became torn and filthy, and her hair was matted with snarls.
For how many days or weeks she made her way alone no one knows, but the One whose loving eye marks even the sparrow's fall. And so it was, that the Lord was guiding little Siddi's feet in her wanderings, until one morning she awoke at daybreak in a strange village. Again she heard the Mohammedan Muezzin chanting loudly from the top of the Mosque, as he called the Moslems of that village to pray to Allah. Perhaps little Siddi thought of the idol her mother had always prayed to so faithfully, and felt a bitterness in her heart as she realized it had never done a bit of good.
Siddi was hungry. It seemed as though she was always hungry, she thought. She could hardly remember a time when she had had all she wanted to eat. Starting out to find some food, she walked a short way through the busy part of the city until she came to a large closed gate that led to quite a large compound. She wondered what sort of a place it could be, for peeping through the gate she could see that the buildings were neither Hindu temples nor Mohammedan mosques. There was a well inside the compound, and as Siddi watched, a woman came with her waterpot to draw water.
"Amma! Ammar called Siddi.
The woman rested her waterpot, and turned to see who could be calling so early in the morning. She saw the little, ragged girl with her thin arm stretched through the bars, and she heard the whining beggar's cry for food. She was an Indian Christian woman, and the head nurse of the hospital Siddi had seen through the gates.
"Where did you come from, child?" she asked, noticing how dirty and uncared-for she looked. "Who are you, and where do you live?"
"I am Siddi, and I don't live anywhere any more," she answered. "But I am so hungry, won't you give me something to eat?"
The nurse went to find her some food, and came back with a dousey, which is like our pancakes. "Now you must run along," she told Siddi. "I have much work to do for I care for the many sick people in this building."
"Oh, can you make sick people well?" cried Siddi, perhaps wishing she had known of this wonderful place when her mother had been so sick. "Can anybody come here who is sick? And what is that other building over there?"
Siddi was full of questions, and the nurse had to explain about the hospital and the church building inside the compound. She told her that the church building was not for Hindus or Mohammedans, but a place for Christians to worship, but Siddi did not understand this for she did not know who "Christians" were.
"There is a Doddamma (meaning the large Mother) here who came from another country far across the ocean. She knows much about medicines and treatments that help to make sick people better," the nurse explained. Then she added, "The Doddamma has another compound, too, where she has an orphanage. That is a place where there are many girls just like you who do not have mothers and fathers. The Doddamma loves and cares for them."
Someone who loves and cares!-the words were almost too good to be true. Siddi's black eyes sparkled as she asked, "Tell me quick-where can I find this Doddamma? Oh, I want to see her!"
"She will be here soon, for she is coming to the hospital this morning. But if you want to see her sooner you will have to walk about a mile to the other compound," and the nurse pointed the way down the dusty little road that turned suddenly off the main roadway.
Without wasting another precious moment the little girl hurried down the road that had been pointed out to her. She passed the water hole where the dhobis were already busy washing clothes, for the dhobis are Indian men who gather up and wash the clothes for the wealthier high-caste people for only a few arenas. They soak them in the rivers or water holes, and then beat them hard on rocks to try to get them clean.
Swish-smack! Swish-smack! The clothing was swung high in the air and smacked hard on the rocks, but Siddi hardly heard or saw them as she hurried by. She could think of nothing but the Doddamma-one who loved and cared for motherless little girls!
Bing! Bong! She was passing the little whitewashed Hindu temple on the hilltop and the priest was making his way around and around the temple, swinging his smoking incense burner in one hand. The wind caught the heavy fragrance of the burning incense, and wafted it away as it also caught the priests long flowing robe, making it flutter and billow out around him. As he swayed along he rang a copper bell in his other hand, but Siddi did not hear, neither did she see the great image of the sacred bull on the top of the temple which looked down on her with unseeing eyes.
She was on her way to find the one who might love and care for even her!
The dhobis, switching their donkeys carrying their great loads of soiled clothing upon their backs, did not notice Siddi either. Neither did the women who passed her with their waterpots upon their heads. She was just another little uncared-for daughter of India.
At last she saw the brick wall of the compound before her which the nurse had described to her. Inside that wall she would find the Doddamma! She quickened her steps until she reached the gate. Peering eagerly through the bars she saw many dark-skinned girls much like herself, except that these girls were clean and happy, and all seemed to be busy with various duties. Nowhere could she see anyone who looked like she might be the Doddamma. After watching through the gate for a moment she called, "Please, may I come in? I want to see the Doddamma!"
Several girls ran to the gate, and looked curiously out at the little ragged girl. But before they opened the gate they ran away to tell the Doddamma that there was a little girl at the gate waiting to see her. Finally they returned, and after opening the big gate they led her into the compound and to the bungalow where they said the Doddamma could be found. All the way they chattered and asked many questions.
"What is your name? Where did you come from? Are you going to live here? How did your clothes get so ragged and dirty?"
These, and many more, they asked, but Siddi hardly listened enough to answer, she was so anxious to see the one who might love even her. She waited fearfully for what seemed like a long time on the step of the bungalow, and at last the Doddamma came to the door, and called her to her side.
Siddi was frightened at first. Somehow in her eagerness she had forgotten that the white Doddamma would look so different! "Come, dear, don't be frightened," she called, and when Siddi heard the tenderness in her voice, and saw the kindness in her eyes, she became braver, and went slowly to her side.
"Now tell me all about yourself so I will know just how best I can help you," smiled the Doddamma. "Suppose you begin by telling me your name, and where you used to live, and why you came to see me."
So Siddi soon found herself pouring out the whole, sad story of her life to this one who really seemed to care. The Doddamma asked many more questions, until at last she seemed satisfied.
"Now, dear little Siddi, how would you like to have a good breakfast, and then have a nice bath and some clean clothes to put on?"
Siddi nodded happily; some older girls were called who took her away to another building where some nice, hot cereal was given to her. How good it tasted!-and she had a whole big bowlful all to herself. Then the girls helped her to have a bath, and gave her some old, but clean clothes to wear. Then they washed and combed her long black hair, and soon it was hanging down her back in a neat braid just like their own. All the while they chattered happily, and Siddi began to realize that not only the Doddamma, but these girls as well, were glad to have her come to live with them. What a wonderful place this must be, thought Siddi, a place where everyone loves everyone. Why did they, she wondered? Everywhere else she had ever been that she could remember, everyone seemed only interested in himself and only did what he had to do for others.
Meanwhile, the Doddamma was concerned about little Siddi, for her heart had gone out to the pitiful little child who seemed so hungry for love. She wondered if her story were true, so she sent a messenger to the little village which Siddi had said was once her home. When he returned he said it was all true: Siddi's mother had died, and the father had never returned. The white missionary prayed much as she cared for all these little girls of India, and she was happy to care for little Siddi, too, for she felt certain that God had sent her.
What a wonderful new life began for Siddi inside the big compound! Every day seemed filled with new happy surprises. Some things were very strange. She found that none of the girls, nor the Doddama had an image or idol to worship. Instead they prayed to a living God that they could not see, and they told Siddi that God had loved her so much that He had sent His only Son, the Lord Jesus, to die for her sins.
Siddi learned, too, that she had many sins. Lying and stealing had been all she had know all her life, and now she found that it was very wrong. The Doddamma and all the Christian girls were praying for Siddi, that she might find the One as her Savior who loved her most of all.
Happy days slipped into weeks, and the weeks slipped into months, and Siddi's thin little cheeks began to grow rounder and rosier. Every day she learned a little more about reading and writing, and every day she heard about the Lord Jesus who loved her so very much. Finally the day came when the prayers of all the Christian girls, and the Doddamma were answered, and Siddi accepted the Lord Jesus as her own Savior. Then Siddi's life was really joyously happy.
Years went by, and Siddi learned to read and write well; she also learned to cook and to sew, and to do the many things Indian girls must know how to do. Then one day a native Christian young man visited the compound and said he wanted a Christian girl for a wife. He seemed to be a fine young man, so they told him about Siddi, and he asked to see her. When she came in he asked her a few questions, and then said, "I would like to have Siddi for my wife."
"Would you like to marry this man?" the Doddamma asked Siddi.
"Yes, I am willing!" answered Siddi simply.
After a few weeks of preparation they were married, and Siddi left the place where she had found love to go with her husband to a new home many, many miles away. But she found that the love of her Christian husband was very precious, and in her new home in that far away village, Siddi is now teaching classes of women and children about the great love of the Lord Jesus.