W E entered the hogan, pulling aside the blanket which served as a door. Inside sat two old grandmothers. The great-grandmother was nearest the door. Her bony hand with its long nails reached out to shake ours as we gave the Navajo greeting before sitting down beside her on the earthen floor. It was dark in there that day. The light filtering in from the smoke-hole of this Navajo dwelling was insufficient. However, in a few moments our eyes were adjusted to the semi-darkness in which these poor folk live all of the time. We looked upon them with com passion, and asked our hearts, “What is there in life for these dear Indians?” There were babies in this camp too, for what Navajo family does not have children? Should there be a woman so unfortunate, she would not be long in finding one or two youngsters to claim as her own. Someone who had too many to feed would be willing to give and to share. We talked to the children; gave them candy to quiet their fears; discussed the weather, the sheep, and the govern ment while the great-grandmother sat listening. She was not deaf, but totally blind. After we had visited for some *Missionary, Flagstaff Mission to the Navajos, Flagstaff, Arizona Page 'Twelve
Jesus Christ had not shined in her heart. All her lifetime she had been subject to bondage. Fear had gripped her heart; there was no one to deliver. Again we talked of Him who is the Light of the world, and of freedom from sin’s darkness that He could bring. This day she was willing to hear. This day
time, there was a silence. According to Navajo custom, one does not chatter in cessantly, as we so often do in the white man’s world. At last someone spoke. We were sur prised. The older lady said to one of the missionaries, “ You are Asdzan Yazzie. I remember your visit to my hogan many years ago.” Sure enough, here was one unable to see, yet she remembered a visit to her camp more than ten years before. Be cause the family had moved, and age had changed her expression, the mis sionary had not recognized the dear old soul. We asked, “ How do you know it is Asdzan Yazzie?” “It is her voice. After listening a little while, I know that it is she who has come to my hogan.” Wonderful, isn’t it, that her sense of hearing is all the more acute since she has lost her sight? Ten years ago we had told this pre cious old granny the gospel story. She had rejected it then, saying she could not understand. For ten more years she sat in darkness—utter darkness. No light could she see, not even the partial light peeping in through the smoke- hole. For ten years she sat in the deeper darkness of spiritual night because the light of the glorious gospel of the Lord
The blind great-grandmother
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