The Icelandic Canadian - 01.12.1961, Blaðsíða 53

THE ICELANDIC CANADIAN
51
she had good cause to compare evil
men with the devil.
My hanging out of the washing
proved to much for me. I took to my
bed, and did not feel equal to braving
the cold to replenish the heater and
to tidy my room.
It was at this time that I learned how
good-hearted some people can be; how
they can go out of their way to be help-
ful. An elderly Salvation Army woman,
from whom I had often bought their
publication, The War Cry, although
I never read it, called with the paper
one day. I bought, as usual. When she
learned of my illness, she shed tears for
me, and knelt and prayed God to take
pity on me. She considered that I lack-
ed religion, and she prayed for sinner
and patient in one. Her prayer was
solemn and earnest. She departed sor-
rowfully, for she did not consider me
saved. The following morning she
came again, and again she knelt and
prayed, in a loud voice. When she had
left, my landlady came up, and said
she must not pray in such a loud voice,
for it scandalized the people in the
house.
But the Salvation Army woman did
more than pray for me. She did what
no one else on the place had thought
to do. That same day she sent an Army
nurse to visit me, the best and most
kindhearted and lovely person I had
ever met. She brought me a basin of
water, made my bed, added fuel to the
heater, and washed the floor. All this
she did very quietly. Her touch was
gentle and her presence soothed me.
She did not seem to fear contact with
me, and she was obviously much con-
cerned about my illness. I have her
and my landlady to thank that I sur-
vived.
My landlady came once a day; she
did not feel equal to climbing the
stairs oftener than that. But she said:
“It does not hurt me, I am so old”.
The nurse came every day. She was
always in good spirits and always show-
ed the same solicitude for me, but she
taxed her strength and was often tired.
The day before I was moved to the
sanatorium, I wished to make her some
recompense for all her trouble on my
behalf. At the same time, I was cons-
cious that it would be difficult for me
to reward her adequately and that I
would remain indebted to her the rest
of my life
She refused payment, but added:
“If you regain your health, support
the Army by buying The War Cry”. I
assented, blushing that I had not made
a practice of reading the publication
of an organization to which a woman
such as she belonged.
When I bade good-bye to my land-
lady, I simply gave her my fingertips,
but she drew me to her, and kissed me
on the cheek.
“God be with you, my child”, she
said, with tears in her eyes.
Her token of friendship for me and
her goodness of heart warmed my
heart. When I looked at her silver-
white hair and the wrinkles on her
comely face, I realized that she was too
old to contract the disease, and that she
did not fear the sickle of death.
This was in February. There was
snow on the ground and travel was dif-
ficult. The Salvation Army vehicle
came to take me to the sanatorium, a
two hour journey. On the way, I real-
ized that I had omitted to ask anyone
to take care of my belongings. These
however, were neither extensive nor
valuable. I regretted most that my ger-
anium was likely to die. I had put it in
a dark corner in the upstairs front
room, and I had forgotten to ask my
landlady to see that it had the benefit
of the sun.