Foreword to the Fifth Edition

OnE day, about a year ago, two of us went to Mimosa’s village, and I stayed with her. I saw then, for the first time, the room mentioned in Chapter IX. It is narrow and low and airless, and when the small, heavy door is shut it is quite dark. It is the only place where Mimosa can be alone.

Is her story true? Although the foreword said it was, some have wondered if it could be so. When first I went into that room I stood astonished. In the dark corners I could see the dim shapes of huddled-up sacks and a pot or two. It was unbelievably stuffy. I could hardly breathe. Almost my heart questioned then the things that I had heard. Can it be here, O Lord of life and light and liberty, that Thou didst meet her so often? Can such dinginess be indeed the place of Thy Presence?

She was out busy cooking in the verandah that ran round the little courtyard at the time. She thought I would like the door shut. “And when thou hast shut thy door” has always been one of her words, so she softly shut the door. Then not a breath of air came in and not a ray of light. In vii PREFACE TO THE FIFTH EDITION

that hot darkness I stood, and thought of the angels ascending and descending — not on some ladder set up under the stars, but here, in this strip of room. ... “Take off thy shoes from off thy feet, for the place whereon thou standest is holy ground.”

And a new insight, like the sudden flash that sometimes lights the evening sky in these tropical lands and shows kingdoms beyond the clouds, was granted in that moment. I knew, not by faith now, but as it were by sight, that our Lord Jesus Christ can do anything, keep anyone, shine anywhere, succour in spite of all the forces of the enemy, comfort in any circumstances. Verily, circumstances are nothing to Him. He is King of them all. The material is powerless to cramp or to subdue. It is naught. The Spiritual conquers every time.

Many ask about her husband and children. Her husband is still what he was, and she still hopes; her boys are with us. A little daughter has been given to her. Lately, because of her. courageous witness, her house roof was burned down. She wrote on a post-card, covered with crowded Tamil, a vivid account of the fire, ending thus: “But through bitterness comes sweetness.”