The Bible of Shepherdsdale — Part I

Adapted from a Dutch translation.

Shepherdsdale lay nestled between the Alps; it rightfully carried this name, for since time unknown it had been inhabited by shepherds. At least a century ago, an incident took place there as related in the following story.

The old village lay in the middle of the valley. There was no church or marketplace, and the houses with their steep roofs and vineyards varied very little in size and shape. The cornfields were small and promised a meager harvest. The ground was more suitable for pasture than farming. Therefore stock breeding was encouraged, and everywhere barns and stalls for cattle and sheep were seen.

The inhabitants’ manners were very plain and their needs few. They were satisfied with the scanty lot granted them by the Lord, and although they knew very few trades and their education was limited, the beginning of all knowledge — the fear of God — was found in them. The kingdom of God and its righteousness was sought first by them, and through it they experienced that all other needs were supplied.

The inhabitants of Shepherdsdale belonged to the old church of the Waldensen and held to the true faith while many others worshipped wood and stone. For many centuries they enjoyed the privilege of possessing a complete Bible in their own language, a dialect between French and Italian.

The villagers valued this Bible more highly than their flocks, farms, and pastures. Because of the courage and steadfastness of their forefathers during times of bitter persecution, that precious book had not fallen into the hands of priests or soldiers. The older people trained their children in reading it and warned them to follow its instructions. They had no Other school than the fireside at home and no church but the one that stood in another far-away dale. Because the village was so far away and the path too dangerous, the pastor of that church had been unable to visit his people for a number of years. In spite of all these inconveniences, the people of Shepherdsdale, with their Bible as a fatherly inheritance and the free hills around them, led a peaceful and pious life. They did what was just and right, were charitable, and walked humbly before and with their God.

In all the valleys around Shepherdsdale no Bible was found in those days. Salvation-seeking and studious men patiently made long trips to Shepherdsdale to consult this holy Book. The out-of-the-way situation of the village and the fiery spirit of the shepherds hindered the bloodhounds of the Roman Catholic Church from going there to seek heretical books (as they called them). At the time of this story, the Roman Church was not persecuting as fiercely as before. However, the old laws of the Roman Church still opposed the Waldensen faith, and the Roman Catholics who lived in the plains were full of hatred and enmity toward the inhabitants of Shepherdsdale. The Roman priests still possessed the right to enter homes and investigate the manner of living and worship. The Waldensen people did not forget this, and therefore the Bible of Shepherdsdale was continually hidden and safely stored.

As soon as summer arrived, most of the villagers left their homes and went to the high mountain pastures. The men would shear the sheep and care for the cattle while the women made butter and cheese in the huts which were built high in the mountains.

The village was then practically empty; no one stayed at home except the old folks, the young children, and perhaps two or three of the most adept girls who cared for those remaining in the village. The movement to the mountain pastures took place every year, because this was necessary for their business. They remained away for one month or longer, and the ripening of the corn determined when they would return.

Every week messages were sent between the valley and the mountains to learn how things were going. The old women, the girls, and the young children were not afraid to stay alone in the remote valley. God, who made the hills, was their trust. Robbers were unheard of in Shepherdsdale, for there was very little to steal. The farm tools, the self-made furniture, and the homespun clothes were really nothing that thieves would want. The most important object left behind was the Bible, a treasure in their eyes. In previous times the shepherds used to take the Bible with them to the mountains so that no priest or monk would steal this valuable book. But as the village had had no visits from priests in a number of years, and such a trust was put in the carefulness and caution of Jasperine Colbert, all of Shepherdsdale decided to let the Bible remain in its usual safe place — Jasperine’s old ebony closet.

Jasperine Colbert was the oldest lady in the village; she was ninety-one years. Her moderate living and the pure mountain air, with the Lord’s blessing, had helped her keep all her faculties. Her old age was noticed only by her bent figure and snow-white hair. The keeping of the village Bible was entrusted to her family from the time that one of her ancestors, a minister of the Waldensen church, had brought it from Lyons, where it had been printed. The Colberts had preserved this treasure at the cost of large sacrifices; in five generations there had been five martyrs.

Jasperine’s father was one of the five martyrs. When her own grandchildren and those of her neighbors were seated around the fireplace in the winter, she told how, in the last persecution, which took place in her youth, she was forced to flee during the night through the woods and mountains to Dauphine. Mother Jasperine was one of the few still living who remembered the time of fire and sword when, for the sake of religion, they were forced to bear all sorts of hardships in the cold Alps. Because of these remembrances and sufferings, as well as her pious life and unusual caution, she was respected by all the inhabitants of the dale.

The village Bible under her care was secure, as it had been under the care of her fathers. Jasperine had two children who were now middle-aged men. They had their own families and lived in two old, but well kept houses which stood next to each other in one of the most sheltered corners of the dale. From their doorways they could see the border of the dark pine forest and the winding path which led to Susa.

The usual busy atmosphere of both houses was replaced by quietness in the summer time, and Mother Jasperine sat at the front door of one of the houses knitting while her two grandsons, Gaston and Henry, both under seven years, played close by. Greta, her adept granddaughter, a sweet, thoughtful, young girl of thirteen years, had her younger brother on her lap. All the remaining members of both families had gone to the mountains. On this particular summer afternoon there was such a stillness in the village and dale. The small boys were soon tired of playing. After promising to behave themselves, their grandmother went to get the highly treasured Bible and began to read to them the story of Jacob and his sons.

When Children Pray

The Lord attends when children pray,
A whisper He can hear;
He knows not only what we say,
But what we wish or fear.

He sees us when we are alone,
Though no one else can see;
And all our thoughs to Him are known,
Wherever we may be.

’Tis not enough to bend the knee,
And words of prayer to say;
The heart must with the lips agree,
Or else we do not pray.

Teach us, O Lord, to pray aright,
Thy grace to us impart;
That we in prayer may take delight,
And serve Thee with the heart.

— Young People’s Hymnal

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