A. D. Luckhoff

“ Miss Ferreira died last night; buried this afternoon; "Zalig zijn de dooden die in den Heere sterven" (Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord) ; large crowd at cemetery.
But to think that so young and so strong a person should so suddenly be called away; "Levende gaan zij de eeuwigheid binnen" (literally, Living they enter eternity) .
Miss Van Tonder very, very low in hospital; cannot bear thought of her perhaps dying; it will be too, too sad; so young, so good, so patient. God only knows!
Yesterday eight buried; mostly children. ”

“ Thursday, October 24.—Long break, four days gone by; but one day is like the other except that on alternative days I take the funerals; for the rest, each day is like preceding morning, noon, and afternoon—sick! sick! sick!
O for a change in my work! The continual cry is "Minheer, kom tog hier" (Sir, please come here) , "Minheer, gaat tog daar" (Sir, please go there) , and one grows so weary of scenes of suffering and sorrow; always red and tear-stained eyes; always Love, helpless, hopeless, impotent, despairing; always face to face with Decay, Change, Death ”

“ Explain it that a mother can cling to a helpless, idiotic, deformed boy for fourteen years, and feed him mouth to mouth! Explain that a mother can sit up night and day, day and night, with a sick child! ”

“ Yesterday ecstasy over new church; to-day in the depths again. Joy shortlived. This way: very stormy night; soaking rains; morning whirlwind, frightful; hurried to the church; one side already blown loose; mighty burst wind; whole show laid low. Such are the vicissitudes of Camp life.
Service out of question. Thankful!
Similar tent, hospital, also blown down same time. A fellow feeling makes us wondrous kind. ”

“ We are all busy, each with his own book, and each day we add a page; but one day, like with these dead, we come to our last page. What have we written? How do we write? When we become God's children, God writes in letters of red—with Christ's blood as ink—over the pages of sin we have till now written, "Cleansed in Jesus's blood," and thence we write only to the glory of God. ”

“ Snyman in tears yesterday in hospital, and her great trouble was that there would be no coffin for her daughter, who is in jaws of death; reprimand; should not anticipate God; besides, the sorrows of to-day are grievous enough, why bear to-morrow's in the bargain?
Great wailing and lamentation round morgue tents this morning; daughter and wife of old Mr. Van Heerde; and she boasted so big three days ago of her boundless faith. Gave her straight talk; fruit of our faith is our resignation and peace of heart. Thank God rather for the blessedness of so long and happy a union ”

“ Humanly speaking, she simply cannot live; it is only her abnormally strong constitution that fights so grimly. I have wrestled with God for her life. Oh, she must not, may not, die! Think of the weak, frail mother—of the father far, far away in Ceylon! ”

“ How can one's heart remain hard? Can one be unmoved when you see weeping, stricken mothers kneeling in anguish beside their infants' graves?
Love, after all, is the greatest and most mysterious of all things. ”

“ Talk of day—Doctor got knocked down in camp this afternoon. Have not seen him whole afternoon; offending party marched to gaol; wonder what the issue will be!
Sunday, October 13.—Glorious eventide. What grander than to sit still at perfect rest after burden of a long and heavy day! What a day to look back upon! I tremble when I think of what I am compelled out of sheer compulsion to venture. Service this morning; "Deze zijn het die uit de groote verdrukking komen" (These are they which come out of great tribulation) . This afternoon, "Hoe zou ik u overgeven, O Efraim? U overleveren, O Israel?" ”

“ Yesterday old Mr. Duvenhagen came in distress to me; begged from Superintendent, and got him two little boxes [58] .
This morning had to tramp round to get hold of few boxes, for I promised Lenie's mother I would provide wood. One does make very rash promises sometimes—but anything to comfort stricken heart of lonesome mother.
That Mrs. Van der Berg has now lost her three children; her husband sits in Bloemfontein Refugee Camp. This to me so inexplicable, so unreasonable, so cruel. Why cannot husband and wife be allowed to go in same camp? ”

“ Called at hospital again before afternoon visits to find out tent number of Nellie van Tonder's parents; no one could tell; so came away determined to find tent all same; passed doctor; "Hullo, Padre, forgot to tell you of very bad case 715; afraid you won't find child alive though;" so hurried away to 715; and actually there found myself in very tent I wanted to visit. But I was too late for the child. Carried him away ten minutes before I came. Such is life! "When sorrows come, they come not single spies, but in battalions." ”

“ Wednesday, September 25.—Deathbed; sorrowful topic to write upon, and yet why shirk it? Let me attempt what I have never before done—a description of a deathbed. It is but human to hasten over the tragic scenes of life, but this evening I want to tarry.
Something prompted me to make early visit to the hospital, so went before breakfast. In first ward went straight to little Mita Duvenhagen's bed, and her I found very bad—struggling hard to breathe; so young and yet so bitter a suffering!
From there called by Mrs. Van den Berg to new ward, to come quickly, as Lenie was dying. ”

“ A diary is simply a confidential talk to one's self of one's self—such is its prerogative. While, then, sending forth into publicity this Journal in its entirety, so as not to mar its integrity, need it be suggested how hard it is occasionally to lay bare the naked soul within? ”

“ Early this afternoon another man came to me in great distress; also no wood for coffin. It does seem so bitterly hard.
Visiting whole morning, mostly down New Camp way.
There is one man always at my back; times a day; came with most wonderful request two days ago; wants me to get him a—guess? Baby! Wife's died last week, and he is now loafing another.
This afternoon two prayer meetings; men and women; took men's down in old church (big tent there now) , "Heere zijt mij genadig" (Lord, be merciful to me) . The women's, I hear, was packed. I had over 100 men; very good, seeing so few men here ”

“ Visits in camp, before hospital; again before funerals; also after funerals; but making no headway; hundreds of sick all about, and hundreds who can never be visited.
Great concern yesterday; officials want now to remove my tent [65] , and I positively cannot do without same; and with all this worry had to prepare afternoon service; sudden inspiration and wonderful grace to boot; "Komt herwaarts tot mij alien" (Come unto me all ye that labour) .
Service of great comfort to own heart.
Saw Superintendent this morning; inflexible; I am powerless because I was given the roof. ”

“ Called in to see woman who had just received news that husband had fallen in battle. Such sorrow is too great to realise; one can only stand afar off to behold—and weep.
At 3 p.m. suddenly told that no one to take women's prayer meeting; so had hurriedly to go without so much as minute's preparation; quite large crowd.
Mr. Becker played me trick; he took funerals; four I believe, so I had time to make short visit hospital.
Doctor stopped me two days ago, and said the man B—— in hospital wished to be left alone; so left him alone; but this evening he has gone to meet his God. ”

“ Four circulating libraries—Otto's, Dussel's, Van As's, and Lubbe's. Reading, however, rather an impossibility here in camp; one has always something to do. What a blessing that everyone has work in plenty, because in one's work one can derive a measure of happiness and satisfaction; it detracts one's thoughts from the seamy side of life just now.
Immediately after breakfast visited two dying babies, 585, 695.
Great crowd of children assembled in front of church, several hundreds (I hear a weeping and a wailing close by; evidently someone just died) ”

“ Some people selfish in their sorrow. Took little camphor brandy Mrs. Niemand's; tent full lamenting womenfolk; and the helpless babe casting her black eyes from one to another. Some people will insist on anticipating the Almighty (the child is dead, though) .
Saw a child to-day the very image of a mouse; two months' illness; large ears; black eyes; thin, bony hands; huddled together.
Very busy afternoon.
Funerals at 4 p.m.; eighteen corpses; "En God zal alle tranen van hunne oogen afwisschen" (And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes) . ”

“ Hospital runs away with whole morning; and positively cannot neglect that work, and then come the funerals every other day.
Buried four children this afternoon; one girlie I often visited; "En zij brachten kinderkens tot Jezus" (And they brought children to Jesus) .
One cannot help smiling sometimes in midst of death; the comic element will crop up everywhere and the sublime verges on the ridiculous. Old Mrs. Griesel, delirious, "Ach, minheer, en moet ik nou sterve en dit zonder eers een glas karren melk to kry?" (O, sir, and must I die now, and that without one glass of buttermilk?) ”

“ Hij is mijn hulp en mijn schild" (Trust in the Lord; He is our help and our shield) ; "De Heere is onzer gedachtig geweest" (The Lord has been mindful of us) ; beautiful.
To my utter surprise found Mrs. Fourie in hospital; ailing lately; sure this is much best for her. (The Van As's and Mr. and Mrs. F. form one family circle here.)
Anyhow, this afternoon simply "dead off"; lay on bed till 3 p.m.; and yet one always feels uncomfortable to be idle one hour; it feels like neglect of duty. What one longs for is possibility to have one day or afternoon off regularly ”

“ Met weeping mother on coming out; "Minheer, zal minheer tog nie ver mij help nie om vir mij man een telegram te stuur, hij is in Doornbult Camp. Ik is alleen hier en twee van mij kinders is al dood, and nou le die dochtertje ernstig ziek in die hospital?" ("Sir, won't you be able to help me to send a telegram to my husband, he is in Doornbult Camp. I am alone here; two of my children are already dead, and now my daughter lies dangerously sick in hospital") [52] . That is the saddest part of all. Mothers here alone with sick children, and fathers far off—some in other camps. ”

“ Suggested that we have only one morning service in new place and two afternoon services—one for old people at old place and one for young at new place; could take further steps later on for a double morning service if necessary; Elders agreeable; disperse.
Funerals; four; Mr. Van der Merwe died last night; felt sick myself, and made fool of myself at graveside; but really could not contain myself as they lowered the remains of Mr. Van der Merwe into grave; so big and fine a man; in flower of manhood; wife dead, child dead ”

“ Our kitchen we are building, getting on famously; I stand good for bricks and wood; we need about 1,000 bricks; quite a great affair, and will prove a blessing.
Gave out "briefies" to-day, but fear that I shall give up the job; what use, when they return empty-handed, or with but half the things! Sorely vexed in my soul at the treatment I receive. Why ask me to issue briefies?
Washing-stand looks handsome, thanks to Stienie; oilcloth will make it quite spruce.
Young man addressed me quite intimate-like this afternoon, "En wat schrijf maat in de boekie?" ”

“ There have died up to September in our camp over 500. Appalling!
Only one buried this afternoon (Mr. Becker) ; died in hospital.
Thursday, October 3.—No diary yesterday; listless to-day also; hot; oppressive days; one just longs for day to end. Towards evening (sunset) usually nice and cool, and wind goes down.
What shall I write about? Diary becoming monotonous; too great a sameness. Hospitals; visits; sick; dying; funerals; morose topic; oppressive.
Boer khaki in camp to-day. Result of visit, about a dozen have joined forces of the English. Wonder if a worm wouldn't have more self-respect! ”

“ Van Straten, whom I regularly visit, and yet I know absolutely nothing of this girl's sickness nor her death till this very minute. Enough to make one discouraged.
Of Monday's work can't remember much except that I found the "summum" of misery and distress in 678, Pelser's; whole family down measles; poverty; filth; baby ill at breast (died yesterday, buried this afternoon) ; sent food, but made her promise faithfully that children would be washed to-day.
What horrible thing is dirt! Surely one of greatest gifts is to be able to appreciate the "clean."
Funerals again Monday ”

“ Too much sickness about; fear the deterioration.
Funerals this afternoon five; all children; "Heere, maak mij bekend mijne einde" (Lord, make me to know mine end) . May those graveside addresses bear fruit!
Called to 104, Hugo's; great sorrow; baby died this morning; poor mother; talk about tears rolling down! Let me not think on it!
179, Roelvert's baby; convulsions after measles; also dying.
A mother's heart: the most delicate, mysterious, profound piece of architecture in creation. Let a man not attempt to fathom its depths; there are mazes which he can never pass through ”

“ Hurried home to find things lying in dire confusion, and unprotected.
"Ai, maar dit was ook genoeg om'n mens regtig moeilijk en nukkerig te maak" (Ah, but it was enough to rouse and irritate a person) . But what an utter absence of the faintest traces of some respect and deference. There are men whose cold-blooded brutishness and irreverence knock one over completely. One's person, one's profession, is no guarantee, no safeguard—nay, I verily believe some glory and revel in the act of making a fellow-creature miserable. ”