Paula the Waldensian - Eva Lecomte

"We must think of her happiness, dear Lisita, not our own, from this day
forward. Paula, you remember, never thought of herself. Her thought was
always for others, and it was for another that she died. She gave her life to
save that little boy. So she followed in the footsteps of her Saviour, as a good
soldier of the Lord Jesus who died to save all who repent and believe on His
blessed name."
The voice of our old servant, so tender, so motherly, seemed to heal my
sorrow. When I became calmer she told me some of the details of the
tragedy. Paula had, dashed in front of the horses just in time to throw the
child out of danger but had been unable to escape herself. That much I
understood; but from that day to this, I have never been able to bring myself
to ask for any more details. It seems I had fainted, and they carried us both
home.
Poor Teresa, I knew how ardently she, too, loved our Paula, but
courageous and unselfish her only thought, as ever, was for us. In consoling
me she forgot her own sorrow. As I looked at that strong calm face lighted
up as from an inner brilliance, it seemed to take on a striking likeness to the
dear one whose life was ebbing away in the next room. There came to my
mind a verse from a Bible story that Paula had told us once. It was this:
"The spirit of Elijah hath fallen on Elisha."
A stream of neighbors came in from everywhere. It was in those last
moments as these humble friends passed before that unconscious form that
we came to comprehend how many lives had been touched by the simple
country girl from the Waldensian mountains. Some remembered her just
from the smile with which she always greeted young and old as she passed
up and down the long street at our end of the town. Others spoke of the
loving adoration of the children whom she had protected and defended. Still
others mentioned the kindness she had shown them, and poured out many
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