# Letters of a Javanese princess/Chapter 41

XLI
July 12, 1902.
FATHER and Mother have both given us their full permission. We had expected storms, thunder-claps, and lightning flashes. I cannot yet fully realize it. I had hoped that Father would consent, but I had not dared to dream that Mamma would stand by him. We have never been estranged from one another but things are clearer now between Mamma and us, this has brought us nearer together. I felt calm at first, but when Mother spoke to us in such a quiet, gentle manner, my calmness vanished. I had so much in my mind that I had not thought over what I should say, but when it came to the point, the words fell as themselves from my lips. Who was it that placed the words ready in my mouth—Who?
There is a power higher and greater than all earthly powers put together. Good spirits were certainly hovering near putting the words in our mouths when we stood before her speaking for our ideals. Now I heard Mamma say, deeply moved, "Oh child, why have you not trusted me?" We have done wrong, not to have told Mamma everything. Poor, dearest mother, we are not worthy to kiss her feet.
I wish that I could tell you what Mamma has been to us all these long years, what she still is. Now we realize for the first time the debt that we owe to her. We owe her a world full of love and gratitude; we are so thankful that we are going away from Mamma in peace, in the service ​of that Good that she herself knows and understands. We no longer express our joy openly as formerly, as we did only a little while ago. We are quiet now, but full of silent gratitude.
I had prepared what I had to say to Father with the greatest anxiety. I do not know where I got the calmness and composure with which I spoke to him. My voice sounded strange to my own ears. I was unmoved, but when the permission for which I was pleading was granted, and I saw how much it cost my dear father, the ice-crust melted from my heart. I longed to throw my arms around him and speak words of comfort, but my knees trembled and my voice refused to do my bidding. I sat before him on the ground and looked at him with the mist before my eyes. I felt his pain and I suffered with him. 0, some day I will repay for everything.
In my heart the prayer rose "Father, forgive me, my Father, forgive your child, she cannot do otherwise."
It was on the twenty-first of June; I chose that day, your birth-day, for the difficult interview with Father. I wished to have you, my little Mother, with me in spirit. Good angels surrounded me, my Heavenly Father stood by me in my struggle against my earthly one. When I was alone once more and had gained my desire, there was no joy in my heart; there was only pity and sympathy for the sorrow of one whom I loved. My tears were for him. From the depth of my soul I prayed: "0 grant that from this great sacrifice of my parents, flowers will spring up and fruit will grow for our land, and for our people."
On the same day, the twenty-first of June, we wrote to the Heer Van Kol at Batavia at his request. The letters contained our names, ages, and a summary of our ideas and wishes.
But we had to have our parents' permission, without that nothing could be done for us.
​ And now that this stumbling block is cleared from our way, we stand before a second — the financial one. Our parents cannot possibly afford the expense of our education; nor would we ask it of them. Yesterday I received a long and very earnest letter from Mevrouw Van Kol. If I did not need to keep it until it was answered, and if my unaccustomed fingers did not cling to it so, I should like to send it to you, but I shall try to tell you something of its contents. She has given us more than moral support, she has given us part of herself. We feel as though we had received a benediction. We are no longer afraid, we have no anxiety; we are at peace, we trust and we believe. Of what worth are we! We are no more than the dust of the ground. We feel no jubilant, boisterous happiness, but a still, quiet joy. God, we are so thankful that we have found Thee, that we have come through doubt, unbelief and materialism.
We have thought much of late. We sought the Light afar off and all the time it was near; it has always been with us, it is in us.
Our souls have been working and growing, and we did not know it. Mevrouw Van Kol has drawn back the curtain from before our eyes; we are more grateful to her for that than for all the other things which have been done for us.
Before I received her letter. Mamma had said to me, "Who gave you such ideas?" and I answered "God gave them to me." It was only natural that Mother should try to hold us back, but when she saw that we would never change, that we could not change, she said to us with resignation, "Well, children, I shall try to think that you are called to do this; that God has sent you for this service."
Mevrouw Van Kol wrote us: "Often we need human beings and their support, but there are many more times, when it is only God that we need. He has called each one of us to do our special work, and he ​gives us strength and constancy. Believe me, this is what the voice of experience says. You stand now at the threshhold of life; at the beginning of your work; when you are in the midst of it, then you too will have had experience. It is only when we have had experience that we become free and strong, true helpers and friends of mankind, depending not upon them, but upon ourselves and upon our Father-God."
Unasked, East and West has sent us assurances of its support and co-operation. Mevrouw Van Kol sent us the paper with an account containing a description of the journey of Heer Stoll. And where the writer had spoken of us, the following had been interpolated by East and West:
"We trust that Heer Van Kol, who has been a member of E & W since it was founded, will not have neglected to tell her that she can count to the fullest on our support in her noble struggle." After she had seen this article, Mevrouw Van Kol, sent a few words to East and West about us, so that we might be brought nearer to the heart of the Javanese loving public, which reads E & W.
She has asked permission to publish my entire letter in that paper. I do not like the idea, but it is in our own behalf, and she writes further: "How can the friendly public know what is in your heart and learn to appreciate your aspirations, better than from a candid letter, in which the young Javanese lays bare her soul to an older woman from whom she asks support and sympathy? There is not a word in that letter that the public ought not to see, and I know of no better introduction for you to the circle that has the welfare of Java and of the Javanese at heart. I can easily understand your scruples, but overcome them and say "Yes."
I have come to no decision in regard to this. I must first have ​Father's consent. Father wants me to keep everything secret at present; if the Government says yes, then the world can hear of it. It is very true that we should choose our way with all prudence, but experience has shown us lately that we gain more by publicity than by secrecy. Even if the Government should refuse our request, we should lose nothing. How many petitions are never reached! ··········
Let me say now, to set you at ease, that we will always remain what we are, but we fervently hope with you, that it may be granted us to make our own form of religion admirable in the eyes of those who think differently.
We feel that the kernel of all religion is right living, and that all religion is good and beautiful. But, ye peoples, what have ye not made of it?
Religion is designed as a blessing, it should form a bond between all the creatures of God, white or brown, of every station, sex and belief,for all are children of One Father, of one God. There is no God but the Almighty, say we Mohammedans, and with us all-believing monotheists, God is the master, the Creator of everything.
Children of one father and for that reason, brothers and sisters, who must all love one another, help and support one another. Ah, if this were but understood. But we are so harnessed down by form that we are sometimes driven against all religion; the followers of one dogma look down upon the followers of another, despise, hate and, sometimes, even persecute them; but enough of this for the present.
Is there a Dutch translation of Lessing's works, and of the life and writings of Pudita Ramabai? I was still going to school when I heard of this courageous Indian woman for the first time. I remember it still so well; I was very young, a child of ten or eleven, when, glowing ​with enthusiasm, I read of her in the paper. I trembled with excitement; not alone for the white woman is it possible to attain an independent position, the brown Indian too can make herself free. For days I thought of her, and I have never been able to forget her. See what one good brave example can do! It spreads its influence so far.