|
William Carey (1761-1834)
Carey loved plants and the soothing effect they had on him. He found the time to cultivate and care for them in spite of crushing responsibilities. His requests from other botanists were shameless in their scope. While on his indigo plantation at Mudnabati he wrote Dr. Roxburgh in Calcutta for the scientific names of 117 different plants. "I have a thousand questions," he bubbled. He begged for specimens. "My desires are unbounded!" When his son Jabez left for the Spice Islands in the East Indies Carey gave him specific instructions on how to pack and ship back to India tubers, bulbs, seeds, nuts, shells, rooted plants, parasitical plants and "every possible vegetable production". But why stop there? He loved all nature. "Send me…live birds…small quadrupeds, monkeys, etc. Beetles, lizards, frogs, serpents…" he urged Jabez. Once in Serampore Carey emptied a bag of botanical specimens from England, then cautiously 'shook the bag over a patch of earth in a shady place.' "…a few days after," he wrote, "I found springing up to my inexpressible delight…this English daisy…not having seen one for upwards of thirty years, and never expecting to see one again."
In his later years at Serampore his 'garden' covered five acres. He had aviaries so large that trees grew in them. Four enormous tanks nourished aquatic plants. His garden grew the second largest botanical collection in India: thousands of different plants, from the wispiest grasses to mahogany trees! He was one of the world's authorities on the Amaryllidaceae family. When he heard his colleague and dear friend Joshua Marshman had chided him for not wearing a wide-brimmed hat while he worked in his garden Carey retorted in mock anger, "What does Marshman know about a garden? He only appreciates it, as an ox does grass!"
[source: William Carey: Father of Modern Missions by S. Pearce Carey, 1923]
><> ><> ><> ><> ><> ><> ><> ><> ><> ><> ><> ><> ><> ><> ><>
Amy Carmichael (1867-1951)
Friends often called Amy 'Wild Irish' to explain her 'zesty' sense of humor. One incident during a 'retreat' in the forest - when she was nearly 50 years old - illustrated it. This forest really was primeval. Amy's own description read:
Elephants haunted those uplands, and bears and tigers, sambur,
wild pigs, deer, the ever-fascinating monkey, the huge monitor
lizard like a toy crocodile, and countless furred and feathered
marvels. Life was all gladness there. Once the children, entranced,
saw a tigress at play with her cubs… Later, we were to meet panthers,
wild dogs, bears and other forest people - not every day, but often
enough to lend zest to life…
And what to Amy was zest? She gleefully related the following:
One evening we gave the Family a shivering half hour. Four of us
were returning from a walk up the forest, when we saw the others
coming back from the river, and we hid behind a tree and growled.
There was a wild rush up to the house, and then, to our immense
gratification, we saw the whole household turn out with sticks…
horribly alarmed but valiant….
Amy and her three co-conspirators then sauntered out from the tree. "Whatever is the matter?" Amy asked innocently.
"Bears! Bears!" screamed the hysterical victims.
Amy's youngest co-conspirator doubled up giggling. The 'zestful' trick was over.
[sources: Gold Cord by Amy Carmichael, 1932, and Amy Carmichael of Dohnavur by Frank Houghton, 1953]
><> ><> ><> ><> ><> ><> ><> ><> ><> ><> ><> ><> ><> ><> ><>
|
|
