She walked several kilometers bare- footed in the winter cold to buy a Bible. But it was sold out before she got to her destination. What happened? Find out.
There are dreams and there are dreams. And there are dreamers and there are dreamers too. Some of these dreamers realize their dreams, while others have had their names writ in water. In some, theirs may be an ambition to rule empires, while for other young men, the mere accomplishment of marrying a fair lady and living happily with her ever after in a hanging garden beside a blue sea, is a big dream.
Now consider one of these dreamers who dreams of owing a Bible. But the family being very poor could barely provide food for the members, not to talk of buying a Bible. Now this dreamer is not the Biblical Joseph, the dreamer. But her name is Mary Jones, a sixteen - year old girl born 1784 in a village in Wales that goes by the curious name of Llanfihangel.
There is nothing wrong to dream of owning a Bible though. But the odds against her are many. Because the girl lived in the wrong century and dreamed in the wrong times. In those days, to own a Bible was to die. Like William Tyndale. Like Jan Hus. Like so many others.
But big dreamers are die- hards. And Mary was one of them. So this daughter of poor weavers started saving whatever money that she got in order to buy a Bible. It was Mary's parents that aroused her interest in the Bible. They told her Bible stories and instilled the fear of God in her heart. Since the family never had a Bible, Mary often read a neighbor's Welsh Bible.
Then when she was sixteen years old in the year 1800, news came that a few Welsh Bibles were available for sale at the local church at Bala. She checked her box of coins. It was full. She told her parents that her dream was coming true. For she was going to Bala to buy her own copy of the Bible.
The journey to Bala itself was not an easy one. From Llanfiangel in the Atlantic coastline up to Bala in the hinterland is over 40 kilometers. Again, she was to walk barefooted in the middle of winter and without a winter coat or booth to get there. Furthermore, it was a steepy mountainous terrain, often rising, falling, and meandering here and there. And worse: it was a highway for robbers.
Few parents would allow a sixteen - year old daughter to take a risk. But few families have sixteen year olds who have a love for the Bible. So on the day of Mary's departure Mr. and Mrs. Jones bought bread and dried meat that would last her journey, tied them up in a large white handkerchief and put it in a basket.
Mary ties her coins in a neck handkerchief, puts it in the pocket of her long dress, adorns a hat and carries her basket of provisions. And with a hug, a kiss and a goodbye from her parents, she starts the long, uncertain journey to Bala.
She had thought of making the journey in three days. She walked 18 kilometers the first day. It was very cold and she shook all along the journey. She only stopped to eat and rest under a tree. She was almost dropping dead when she sighted a watchman warming himself beside a fire in a village gate house. Not wanting to spend the money by lodging in an inn, she begged the watchman that he allow her to pass the night in the gate house.
“No problem" said the old man spreading his palms by the fire. “But who ye and where art thou goest this winter cold?" he asked.
“I am Mary. Going to Bala."
“That's 22 kilometers away, and no winter boots and coat" said the old man absent mindedly. “Here's some hot soup. It'll do ye some good"
With that, he pours the hot soup in two bowls. And they drink and talk of the weather. Before .long, the old watchman falls asleep followed by the tired Mary.
In the morning, she thanks the old man, washed her face and continues her journey. Today, she walks 15 kilometers, stopping twice to rest and eat. What makes the journey hard, is that she would have to climb and descend mountains. Her legs swoll and ached. And at night, she met a group of weavers who were working through the night by a fireside. She indicated her willingness to help in the loom for an opportunity to stay for the night.
The curious weavers received her after hearing her story. She worked for a while and was allowed to even sleep in the early morning hours. They even gave her a coin before she left in the morning. When she was exhausted in the evening, she dragged herself into an unlit gate house at the outskirt of a village. The watchman was not there. Perhaps, he will be coming later, she thought. And she lay on a mat and slept away.
It was 2 am. Two thieves, Red Devil and Black Night were looking for someone to rob. The road was empty. It was plain that they would have to go hungry and empty handed. And the night was cold. They looked into the dark gate house. The night watchman didn't come. So they decided to go in and rest for a while before the break of dawn. But to their surprise they found a girl fast asleep there. Red devil held her throat, while black night searched and took her money. After that, they take her remaining bread and meat, leaving the cloth and the basket; and ran away.
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The local apothecary generally called Dr. Hades found it unusual to be woken by this barefooted girl with a basket this early morning. After listening to her, he asked:
“Do you know them that stole your money?"
“No" was Mary's answer.
“And is that why you want to drink arsenic to kill yourself?
“Yes" she replies.
“But where did you get the coin you want to use to pay for the poison?"
She explained that it was a gift from some weavers whom she had helped to weave the night before. But Dr. Hades was not satisfied with her answer. Perhaps, the girl is a run-away—one of these bad girls in the neighborhood. Perhaps, she needs food and a good sleep. He goes to an inner room, returns with a mixture which he gives to her, and asks her to use the coin to buy some food.
Mary thanks him and walks to the gatehouse. She spread the white handkerchief on the ground, finds a piece of rock and starts to write a suicide note on it, the bottle of arsenic by her side. But halfway, she falls asleep.