Aldersey, Mary

Mary at last found a large Chinese house in the middle of Ningpo itself, and moved there with her little family. Now she could get to work on her school in earnest.
There were meetings in the market-place, and gossip in the narrow streets of the old city. As they passed the big, heavy gate in the blank outer wall of Mary’s school (most Chinese houses have no windows on the outside), old women would cast fearful, malevolent glances at it and make the sign to avert bad luck.
‘Foreign devil woman! What does she do with the girls she has hidden away in there?’
‘She picks out their eyes and makes a magic medicine with them.’
‘She fattens them up and eats them!’
‘She is a witch, of course.’
‘Mrs. Wang has actually let the white witch have her daughter. Of course daughters are of little value, and I suppose she was paid well, but still, one’s own child!’. . .
Still the wicked whispers went on in the streets of Ningpo. The Chinese hated these ‘barbarous foreign devils,’ who had thrust themselves and their trade on them with armies and men-of-war, and it was hard for them to believe that any Westerner could truly wish them well. The mandarins did not really believe that Mary Aldersey was a cannibal, but they were quite ready to encourage the poor and ignorant to think so.”
But there were encouragements too:
Tap, tap, tap. Pause. Tap, tap, tap.
‘Benevolent passer-by, can you tell me if I am near the home of the foreign woman?’
‘Are you a stranger that you do not know where the white witch woman lives? I thought everyone in Ningpo knew her house.’
‘Highly respected sir, this worthless person is blind.’
‘Then she will not be able to steal your eyes to make medicine. Ha, ha! Well, if you want to know, you are just by her gate.’ . . .
The blind woman was led to Mary Aldersey’s room. When the bows and greetings were over, as the visitor was seated, rather awkward and shy on one of Mary’s European chairs, she explained why she had come.
‘I have had strange words from Sing a-foh, who, I am told is a friend of yours. Something about the God of love, Who loved us so much that He came to earth to tell us so. They say He healed the blind. I want to understand more.’
Mary’s heart gave a throb of joy. It was so rarely that anyone came seeking to find out more of the Christian message. As simply as she could, she told the story. The woman listened with her blind face screwed up in the effort to understand. It was all so completely new! . . .
Ten years, fifteen years, eighteen years went by. The anti-foreign feeling was somewhat less. Missionaries were making their way along the coasts and even into the interior of China. . . .
Another helper came to Mary’s school—and, splendid girl though she was, trouble came too!
Maria Dyer was an orphan, born in China, the daughter of one of the London Missionary Society’s finest men. She was gay, brave, clever, and she loved the Chinese people. Just the person to help Mary Aldersey with her school! The Queen of Ningpo loved Maria as though she were a daughter, and Maria thought the world of the little dignified lady who sailed undaunted through so many storms.
But there came to Ningpo a slender young man in Chinese dress, whose burning eyes seemed to see visions that common folk were unaware of. He had little money. He belonged to no missionary society: but he was sure that God had called him to serve China. His name was Hudson Taylor, and he fell in love with Maria.
‘My dear, it will never do,’ declared Mary Aldersey when she heard of it. ‘I’m sure the young man is very worthy, but you know he is quite mad. He lives like the Chinese! I always feel that we British people ought to set the example of a decent way of life.’
‘But, dear Miss Aldersey, he feels that the Chinese people will understand him better if he lives in their way. Besides, it is cheap, and you know he has no regular supplies.’
‘That is one of the things I complain of,’ said Mary. ‘It is all very well for him to say he trusts God—I daresay that is quite all right—but he has no business to dare to ask you to share a life like that. Your place is here, my dear. Don’t throw up the work you are doing to go after that crazy Hudson Taylor! I absolutely forbid it.’ . . .
Hudson Taylor was not the man to persuade any girl to do what she felt wrong. He prayed about the matter, wrote to Maria’s guardian, and had to wait nearly six months for an answer. In all that time he most honorably did not see or write to Maria.
Then the letter from England came, and it gave consent!
Poor Mary Aldersey! She was very much upset. This dear girl, this splendid helper, was to marry a man who never knew from day to day where the money for his dinner was coming from! It was a bitter sorrow.
However, for once the Queen of Ningpo had made a mistake. Hudson Taylor became one of the greatest of China’s missionaries, and Maria, though she went through many dangers and trials with him, was wonderfully happy. But that is another story. . . .
(Mary’s) frail little body was wearing out. It was wonderful, indeed, how she had kept her health all these years! Never once had she been back to England. Once she took a holiday on the beautiful island of Chusan, just off the coast from Ningpo, where the fresh sea breezes and the cool air of mountains were a great relief after the stifling heat of the city; but apart from that she used to get her change of air by climbing to the top of the pagoda in Ningpo!
The time came when she could no longer do this. She was forced to realize that she must make plans for handing over her beloved school to others. . . . Then came the opportunity—the American Presbyterian Mission offered to take it over.”
Mary’s last days were spent in Australia at the invitation of relatives. She had a warm welcome, and just outside the city she made a little home which she called “Tsong Giaou,” after a village near Ningpo.
One last glimpse of Mary Aldersey. A coach drives up to the pretty house with its airy verandas, surrounded by a large and lovely garden. Out of the front door comes a tiny old lady, leaning on the arm of a niece.
‘Auntie dear, do you really think you ought to drive all the way to Adelaide? After all you have done, surely you might rest now?’
‘There are poor girls needing help in Adelaide, just as they needed help in China. While I can go, I must. Good-bye, my dear. I’ll be back this evening.’
So she drives away, sitting erect under her parasol—working up to the last.”
All above quotations come from The Witch of Ningpo by Joyce Reason, which can be read, in full, on line.