Letters of a Javanese princess/Chapter 67
LXVII[1]
November 3, 1903.
YOUR girl is alive again, she is alive. Her heart glows and thrills, and it is not burning pain or bitter, dumb despair that makes the strings vibrate; love is sounding the chords. Why did I complain, ungrateful that I was, with such a rich treasure within me?
Love is greater than all else! And she is richest who gives most. And I shall give, as a rich father's child, with a full hand. What has been given me, I shall give back with interest. Oh, there are so many that hunger and thirst after love!
Strange and wonderful things can happen in life. He and Father were drawn together from the very first moment that they set eyes upon each other two years ago. He and Father have been friends ever since; and he has visited us often.
It was one of his poor little wife's wishes to come and see us, with him and all of the children. Both of them called my father, "Father." She was so anxious to make our acquaintance; alas, before her wish could be granted, death took her away.
Shortly before her death, he saw his wife in a dream; she was deep in fervent prayer, and the prayer that was sent up to the All-Highest was, that she and Raden Adjeng Kartini might meet and be friends through all eternity. Since that time, I have never been out of his thoughts.
Yes, he has suffered much, when she went away it was a deep blow to him, he loved her very dearly.
And his hope for himself is, that Father's treasure — his wasiat djati,[2] as he calls me—shall help him to forget his grief.
May I not find a little message from you when, on the eleventh, I enter my new home for the first time? It will be as if you had raised your dear hand to bless me.