THE FIRST EDITOR OF THE INDIAN WAR CRY

MRS MAJOR LOUISA MARY TUCKER (NEE BODE)

by Margaret du Plessis

WRITINGS AND A SONG

Mrs Major Louisa Tucker used every opportunity to witness for Jesus Christ in India. She travelled extensively and easily engaged in conversation with people of all religious backgrounds. We catch a glimpse of her quiet evangelistic techniques. We are privileged to have access to her writings in the Indian War Crys. Amidst the heat and humidity of India, busy travel schedules and public meetings she found time to write of some of her personal encounters with ordinary people. We are indebted to this exceptional married woman officer for documenting many of her encounters during her short life in India.
 

Articles by Mrs Tucker [1]

Coming home in the train, from where we have been spending the day under the palm trees and telling the glad news of Christ’s redeeming love to many precious souls, some of whom have declared that from henceforth they will serve Him. My husband is sitting opposite some Hindus who speak good English. They ask questions as to our dress and the the topic is broached ‘Salvation’.

A dirty man gets into the carriage and finds a seat by my side but our polite Hindu friends call him to their side where his dirty rags are a marked contrast to their pure white robes – he humbly and meekly subsides.

“How can we live without sin?” they ask in answer to the words that “Mukti is Salvation from sin.” “A merchant must never tell lies or he must give up his business.” We reply that his business must be lost rather than his soul.

To the assurance “We must live” we say “No, you must die”. They listen as the power of God is set forth to destroy the works of the devils in our souls and as we part when Bombay is reached it is as friends.

May our words “what shall it profit a man if he gain the whole world and lose his own soul” ring in their ears till they learn all to follow Jesus.

* * * * *

I am coming to Bombay and waiting in the ladies room when a Hindu Rani is announced.

I place a chair for the old lady and taking one near her we begin a conversation. Although all her English is “Yes” and my Hindustani very scanty, yet we somehow sustain a lively conversation in the midst of which she gives an order to an attendant who goes out.

She then introduces her relative, a pleasant faced young Hindu gentleman, who is to succeed her. The servant returns bringing in some chains of lovely jasmine which fill the room with their dainty perfume. The old lady fastens a magnificent pink rose to one and places it round my neck and then we chat on again. She asks all kinds of questions as to my life etc., and finally she asks me to go and see her own dominions.

Although she is so rich and powerful she is shabbily dressed (being a widow) so that, were it not for her beautiful manners I should take her for a coolie woman. O how cruel are the customs that bind these dear natives of India especially giving the women over to the cruel slavery of those who should honour and protect them. “Lord, hasten Thy Son’s kingdom.”

From the window of my third class carriage I see the station crowded with her people waiting to receive her and I feel glad to know that if Christ leads me that way to proclaim His glorious gospel of light and liberty, that dear old lady will fulfil her promise of giving me a welcome.

A Song: [2]

^{‘YE KNOW IN ALL YOUR HEARTS AND IN ALL YOUR SOULS THAT NOT ONE THING HATH FAILED OF ALL THE GOOD THINGS WHICH THE LORD YOUR GODSPAKE CONCERNING YOU; ALL ARE COMETO PASS UNTO YOU, AND NOT ONE THING HATH FAILED THEREBY’}

Not One Good Thing Hath Failed Me

 By Mrs Tucker

(Tune) – ‘Home sweet home’

Not one good thing hath failed me

Of all my Lord hath said,-

Not one fair rainbow promise

Been broken overhead,-

Not one prayer been unanswered.

Though oft I’ve waited long,

And through the midnight darkness

He giveth me a song.

Chorus: -   All, All, Yes all hath come to pass,-

             Not one good thing hath failed me,

         But all hath come to pass.

Yes, I’ve gained the land of promise

With it’s sunny, starlit skies,

Oft dreamt of in the wilderness,

Now seen with grateful eyes;

Its pastures and its forests

Its waters cool and calm,

Its olive oil and honey

And corn and wine and balm.

The wilderness behind me

With its rebellions slain,

To Egypt and its fleshpots

I’ll ne’er return again.

I raise my voice proclaiming

Christ saves me from all sin,

And His Spirit beareth witness

That he abides within.