Amy's letters went on to ask for a parcel of warm clothing to be sent out. The winter was setting in. The olive harvest had been a bad one, and she feared there would be great poverty and suffering amongst the poor. She ended by saying: 'Our future path is unknown to us. For five months, as far as we can judge, we shall be here, but where we shall be after that we cannot tell. The Lord will guide.'
One more letter came, written in December 1873. Amy discussed the plans to fetch from Alexandria a printing press, so that Bibles and Gospel tracts might be printed at Beirut.
'The Druses,' she said, 'are much on my heart, especially those in the Hauran.' She went on to say how much she hoped that the places still in utter darkness would not be left to a dead Christianity and people who only called themselves Christians.
'The Lord is able to raise up teachers. It is to him that we must look so that the full, pure, simple truth may be preached. It is only then that souls will be gathered to the Lord and added to the church. I have not been able to go to Sarachmool,' she adds, 'since the rain. The road is almost impassable.'
'The last few days it has been fine again, and if we have a little more dry weather, I hope to be able to go. I have been encouraged to hear of an old Druse there, named Hamzeh, who has been one of the most bloodthirsty of his people. A young man from a neighbouring village went and spoke to him of Christ. The old man was moved almost to tears, and exclaimed "Why have you never been to tell me this before?"
`The young man came up to me — a long walk over one of the roughest roads — because he said he felt as if he must come and tell me that Hamzeh had listened to him, or rather, had listened to the Word of God.'
Amy had wondered about where she would be in five months' time, however, when the five months were over, she had left her home at Sook for one where there is no loneliness, and no sorrow, and no sin. She would no longer ride down the rocky path to Sarachmool. For some time she had been growing weaker and thinner, and her bad cough had come back. Her husband took her to Beirut to see the doctor. It was hoped she would recover when the winter was over but Amy did not think so herself. The winter turned out, as she had feared, cold and wet. Sometimes it was difficult to get food and medicine due to the rough paths and bad weather.
She wrote in that last letter of December 1873: 'They say it is warm, but I feel it very cold. There are a great number of white crocuses on the mountains. The purple ones are nearly over, and the golden ones just coming. Do not cease to pray for us.' And after this I heard from her no more.
When Amy was able to get down to Beirut, she went to see the doctor. A Syrian Christian, called Miriam, wrote to me afterwards: 'The last time I saw her was nearly a month before she was taken to her heavenly Father. She had come down to Beirut to show herself to the doctor, for she was very weak. One morning she came to see me and said "I must go to bid my little ones good-bye, before I leave them to go to be with him, where there will be no parting any more." She wished me good-bye, saying, "If I can, I will come to see you but if not, I hope to meet with you in heaven."'
After this, when Amy had gone back to Sook, she grew so weak that she could not leave her room. The paths around the village were blocked with snow. It was not easy to get any supplies sent in. A Syrian friend visited and read to her the first three verses of the third chapter of the First Epistle of John: `Behold what manner of love the Father hath bestowed upon us, that we should be called the sons of God; therefore the world knoweth us not, because it knew him not. Beloved, now are we the sons of God, and it doth not yet appear what we shall be: but we know that, when he shall appear, we shall be like him; for we shall see him as he is. And every man that hath this hope in him purifieth himself, even as he is pure.' Then Amy asked her friend to pray and he prayed in Arabic before bidding her good-bye.
One evening one of the little girls came in to say that one of the little rabbits had been taken away from its mother, and she said it had better be put back before night. A visiting friend said in fun, 'Do you think its mother would ever miss it?' Amy looked at her for a moment, and then her thoughts went back to Christ and she said — Lord, thou hast here thy ninety and nine Are these not enough for thee?
But the Shepherd made answer:
"This of Mine hath wandered away from me; And though the mountains be bare and steep, I go to the desert to find my sheep."
One morning she awoke and said she had had a delightful dream. She thought she had been travelling through a great plain, with many coming and going across it; that at last she found herself at the top of a high bank, and a sudden gleam of bright light came and showed her, far below, wide and lovely meadows and green valleys; that just beneath her lay white, sparkling snow, into which she flung herself, for it looked so cool and soft, and she felt herself sinking into it in perfect rest and delight. She said in her dream, 'I know that this is dying,' and she thought she spoke some joyful words, and named the name of Jesus. 'It is a little disappointing,' she said, `to wake and find I am still here.'
`It is so good of the Lord,' were the words that she said most often during that time. 'I cannot cast my burden on the Lord for I have no burden to cast — he has taken it all. It is all Christ and only Christ.'
Yet she talked of things around her, and was pleased when a neighbor brought her baby to see her; inquired after her horse, and about all that went on in the house. She welcomed everyone with a smile, and seemed to have no pain. She talked a great deal about her children, and joined in singing many hymns. 'Tell my brothers and my sister,' she said to her husband, 'that in the hour of death there is nothing to rest upon but the blood of Christ, which was shed for us. Tell them all that I die in perfect peace — perfect peace through our Lord Jesus Christ. Tell those that you think are not saved that all the things of the world are nothing at all. Tell all that are not sure of their salvation not to leave it to the last, and not be taken up with worldly things. Say that I am passing away very happily. I feel as if I could lay my head on the Lord's shoulder. Don't forget anybody. I can't remember all my old friends now. And oh! All your life preach Christ, and nothing but Christ. I don't mean only the death of Christ, but his resurrection and his coming again, and our oneness with him in the glory.' She gave many messages to her friends, and asked that her horses might be given to Sheikh Chatar, which was done as she desired.
Her friend wrote—'She joined in the night in singing many hymns. I was dozing beside her, being very tired, but I shall never forget the peculiar sweetness of that singing, those "songs in the night." Next morning, very early, she died.'
It was a sad day for many on the Lebanon when they saw the funeral go down the steep rocky path to Beirut. Miriam wrote afterwards—'I felt I must write and tell you what she has been to us. What she used to do was more than what people knew about. She had so much courage. Amy used to say "I feel the hand of the Lord is working with me, and it is he who gave me strength to go on with what I began." She used to tell us the Lord opened the way always if we wanted to do his will. There is a passage from St Mark (chapter 16: 3-4) which she read to us once to comfort us; "And they said among themselves, who shall roll away the stone from the door of the sepulchre? And when they looked, they saw that the stone was rolled away; for it was very great." This always makes me think of her strong faith in God.
Before Amy was removed for burial at Beirut, a large crowd of natives, gathered at the house. A Syrian Christian read from 1 Corinthians 15 and 1 Thessalonians 4:13-1813But I would not have you to be ignorant, brethren, concerning them which are asleep, that ye sorrow not, even as others which have no hope. 14For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so them also which sleep in Jesus will God bring with him. 15For this we say unto you by the word of the Lord, that we which are alive and remain unto the coming of the Lord shall not prevent them which are asleep. 16For the Lord himself shall descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of the archangel, and with the trump of God: and the dead in Christ shall rise first: 17Then we which are alive and remain shall be caught up together with them in the clouds, to meet the Lord in the air: and so shall we ever be with the Lord. 18Wherefore comfort one another with these words. (1 Thessalonians 4:13‑18). Many spoke of her kindness and love to them. They felt that they had lost a true friend.
So now I have told you the story of Amy, or rather I have told you the first part of that wonderful story of God's love and grace, which is the great true story without an end. It is pleasant and good to hear the little beginnings of the lives that will never end. It is wonderful to see how God's great power is shown in the lives of those who have been made alive in him. And it is good to see how wonderfully happy God can make his children here, even when all seems against them, and they have sorrows and troubles all round. I hope that many who read this will learn how to say, 'I cannot cast my burden on the Lord, for I have none to cast, he has taken it all.' When we know the Lord Jesus Christ, we know what these words mean, and we know, too, what he gives us even here, in exchange for the burden — 'joy unspeakable, and full of glory.'