Brutality, growing stronger with use, made them callous to the
sufferings of the little being in their power. No one who cared knew of the
pangs of hunger, the violent words, and the threats of future punishment.
Once or twice she had looked down into the cool depths of the well, and
wondered how quickly she could die. Only the terror of punishment after
death kept this baby widow from suicide.
One day as she was weeping by the gateway of Tungi's house, the little
child wife told the little child widow of a safe refuge for such as she,
where neither poverty nor ignorance could exclude her--a home under the
loving care of one who knew the widow's curse. After many difficulties,
Sita found this shelter. Here she forgot her widowhood, and found her
childhood. Here, in the beautiful garden, or at her lessons, helping with
cooking, or leaning lovingly on the arms of Ramabai's chair, she passed
many sweet and useful years. By and by she found the greatest joy in love,
higher and better than human love can ever be. Later, when a beautiful
young womanhood had crowned her, she was sought by an earnest young
Christian as his wife.
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