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Highways and Hedges | Grace G. Henry
Biography
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Experiences in a New Land

“Thou shalt not be afraid for the terror by night; nor for the arrow that flieth by day.”* (Psalm 91:5)

A short time after Miss Stewart came to Cuba, her brother and his good wife decided to do something especially for her. After her bitter and deep disappointment on leaving India, they felt that, going to a strange land at the age of fifty-two, she would need some security. However, her security was safe in the confidence she had in God.

These good people lived in the country, and they made butter and sold a portion of it each week. They took the money and banked it for several years until a certain amount was saved. They felt that they did not dare trust her to have the money in hand while looking upon the sufferings of the Cuban people, so they stipulated exactly what, and only what, the money was to be spent for, which was to be a small house for her old age.

She was touched by the unexpected offer, and began to look about her for something within the limit and adequate for the purpose. She was finally able to secure a cottage of four rooms and a tiny kitchen. In the earlier years of her labor in Cuba, this was her place of abode.

At the time of which we now speak, she was living there with two of the young girls. Every weekday up to Friday was used for calling on the needy or sick or helping souls. Friday was a day for fasting and prayer with Saturday left open for what might come.

One day she began to feel a deep sorrow fall upon her. On that particular Tuesday, she started out to call, but felt so depressed with the heavy weight of sorrow that hung over her that she returned to her home. In the evening, she went as usual to the prayer meeting held by the Spanish people, and said, “I need your prayers for myself this evening; I have come with a heavy load on my heart, and I do not know why or how. I only know I badly need prayer.”

As she spoke, the load seemed to be lifted, but as soon as the service closed, the same heaviness of heart fell upon her again, as though some awful thing had happened or was about to happen. She returned home to tarry once more with the Lord. At last she retired for the night, but could not sleep. Finally she dozed uneasily.

The two girls, who lived with her, decided to wash out some of their clothes, and moved about the house very quietly, bringing into their room a large vessel to wash out the pieces. By the time that they had finished, she lay quietly in her bed. They decided that it was better to not disturb her or risk awakening her, so the vessel of water was left standing in the bedroom overnight. Planning to empty it early the next morning, they undressed and went to bed and to sleep.

Shortly after that, the missionary stirred and awakened again, and went down in earnest prayer. About one o’clock, the heavy load lifted, and a wave of relief swept over her soul. At no time could she say that she understood the awful heaviness, but she felt that at last she prayed through and won the victory.

In those days, she did much calling among the Cuban people. Often at the dead of night, she was called out to pray, not only for the converts of the mission, but also for Catholics and Spiritualists. A cheap car had been purchased to use for calls coming from a distance. The people were instructed to call the young man who kept the car. He would arise, get out the car, and drive to her home, call her, and wait until she came out. Thus the calls would be made, also taking some young person along with her.

That night her neighbor, arising at three o’clock to care for a restless baby, noticed a car parked in front of the cottage. But she thought nothing at all of it except to remark to her husband that poor Miss Stewart was going to have to go out and make a night call. Then she retired without another thought for the welfare of her friend.

Meanwhile three or four men came quietly around to the rear of the house, leaving one man sitting at the wheel. Working silently, as the occupants of the home slept, they bored a hole in the back door, inserted a funnel through it, and blew gas in the house. This caused a deep sleep to fall on the victims within. They waited long enough for the gas to have full effect; then they broke in and began to plunder. Everything of value that could be used or sold was taken.

The new blanket that covered Faith Stewart’s bed was unceremoniously taken right off her and stripped from the bed, as well as her spectacles, typewriter, fountain pen, and all her clothing. In fact, they so stripped her wardrobe that she had to remain in bed for three days afterward, partly from shock of the ordeal, and partly from the fact that there was nothing to wear and no money to buy more.

These things and many more, indeed, any article of value was carried to the car standing in the front of the home. Then they found the coin purse and the little that was with it, and immediately began looking for a larger sum. They reasoned that because this woman was an American, there must be money somewhere. They went into the room of the girls, who had awakened. Little Caridad, looking at the awful knife in the hand of the evil man standing at her bedside, covered her face in fear and horror and hid underneath the covers. But the man came closer and snatched the covers away roughly.

“Little girl, if you will tell us where she hides her money, we will go away and will not bother you.”

“She does not have any money.”

“We know that she must have money somewhere,” argued the bandit. “And if you will just tell where it is, we will go away. But if you do not tell us, we will kill her.”

“I told you the truth,” protested the child, “she has no money. When she gets any money, she gives it all away to the poor.”

They left the child and made a hurried search, going into Sister Stewart’s room, where she was beginning to slowly awaken from the deep, unnatural sleep. She opened her eyes and looked about her. Then she saw the strange man.

“What does this mean?” she asked.

One man was standing beside her bed with a gun and the other with a big knife lifted in hand. They threatened her life if she did not tell them where her money was hidden. She protested that there was none, save what they had already found in the coin purse. She persisted in sticking to her story as they pushed her roughly from one side of the bed to the other, and jerked her first to the head of the bed and then the foot in their frantic efforts to miss nothing.

They lifted up the mattress here and there, looking in every conceivable place that money could be hidden, then, finding none, they left the room. The two girls began to sob and cry aloud, but from her bed, the missionary called in softly, “Please do not cry, they have not left the premises yet, and they will hear you and return. Be very quiet.”

At last they heard the motor start. The men climbed in the car, the door closed, and in the quiet of the very early morning, they drove away, leaving, as they had come, without being detected by neighbors.

The frantic girls came running into the room and onto the bed where Faith Stewart lay, crying desperately in their fear and shock through their experiences of the night. The awful shock of her own experience had left her in bad condition, because of the gas which had been blown into the room. She also had no clothes to put on. Thus she was not able to get up, for lack of both strength and apparel. In spite of this, she began to plan a course of action.

She asked if one of the girls would be willing to go next door and awaken the kind neighbor. But fear was uppermost, and they consented to go together. They slipped quietly out of the house and knocked at the neighbor’s door. The news of the robbery was soon told. Neighbors began to come in and offer sympathy. None had seen the bandits or knew how to help recover the stolen items, for they had very successfully entered and made their escape. The kind neighbor next door felt sad that she might have helped had she only known, now but it was too late.

One of the neighbors stood gazing at Miss Stewart in surprise and almost alarm. The missionary noticed her and asked, “What is wrong?”

“Where is a mirror?” asked the woman.

Given a mirror, she held it in front of the astonished missionary. In one night of horror, Faith’s long, heavy, auburn hair had turned white. The evil-looking man, the gleaming knife held threateningly over her, had been too much. From that night, she was a white-haired woman.

The news spread about and reached other sections of the city. An American woman living in another section came and brought material for a dress for her. Two of the Christian women in the church began at once to make the goods into a dress so she could get out of bed. There had been nothing left, not even a cent of money for food or clothes.

Their American visitor informed them that on the same night, several homes had been broken into and robbed. In each case, from one to three people had been killed, and this home alone had escaped death. God had marvelously spared their lives in this particular home, no doubt in answer to the burdened prayer of the day before.

But the effect of the gas was awful, and Faith Stewart’s heart was affected. She suffered many years because of that night, until she was delivered by the healing power of God. The vessel of water which was left standing, in kindness to their loved leader, had been the means of saving the health of the girls. The doctor who heard about the case explained that the water left in the vessel had, in a great measure, counteracted the deadly effect of the gas, and no after-effects were suffered by them.

The months went by, made harder by the loss of things so sorely missed. One day Caridad was sent to purchase some needed thing at the nearby grocery. She had not been absent from the house very long until she came back hurriedly, having not yet bought the goods she was sent for. She was highly excited, and kept repeating, “I saw him, I saw him.”

“You saw whom?” asked Miss Stewart.

“I saw the man,” was all she would say.

Finally, they both went out and walked to the corner. The story was simply this. Just as Caridad had reached the entrance to the grocery, she noticed the grocer looking down the street at a man. As the man came nearer, the grocer said, “That man has been around this corner, watching your house, all morning. He stands on the corner, then starts down toward it, and turns just before he gets there and comes back. Have you seen him before?”

Caridad looked at the man as he turned his face in her direction, then ran swiftly away from the store, never stopping until she reached home.

As she and Miss Stewart returned together to the corner, the policeman came toward them leading the man, whom they also had been watching. As they came near Caridad, all the fear and horror of that night, when this man had stood by her bedside, came over her anew, and she fainted, falling backward. The evidence was plain to all. The child had been so strongly affected that no other evidence was needed. The man was sentenced to eight years in prison.

This incident happened in the same period of the awful days of the revolution, which for a time grew worse. But at last an announcement was sent out that the last trip was to be made of the boat between Havana and Miami. The worker who had secretly taken over the mission Faith had begun in Havana, registering it in her own name, hurriedly packed her things and returned to the United States for a period of time. But Faith Stewart had a burden for souls, and she had come to Cuba to live or die with them, so she stood faithful throughout the days which followed that announcement.

There were hours that her own life was in danger, but she had come for service or sacrifice, and the same God whom she relied on to furnish the daily portion of food and shelter, she also relied on to furnish the protection from dangers and perils of the time. Once, when going down in the very heart of the city of Havana on a business trip to tend to the various needs of the mission, crowds began to gather in the Prado, and before long, a battle started in the streets. Pedestrians fled in fear and haste to the nearest buildings for shelter from stray bullets. She, with others, hastily entered the nearest shop. It had the then-typical open front, which at night is rolled down like a curtain and in the daytime rolled up, so the shop is not only open to view, but is made airy and pleasant besides.

But as the people flocked in, bullets found their way in also. Each one stood rigidly flat against the walls, and by the mercy of God, not one of the group was injured. In their midst, unknown to the rest, was a chosen one of God’s servants, and His protecting care was over the whole assembly gathered there.