From the watershed Râm Allâh slopes away in a westerly direction, draining towards the Mediterranean. North of the village is a deep valley that heads on the east at the watershed and falls away on the west toward Kefrîyeh. The country falls gradually towards ‛Ayn ‛Arîk to the northwest and to the Balû‛a or sunken meadow, where a winter pond stands near Baytûnyeh to the southwest. To the south, southeast and south-southwest the land rises into hills towards ‛Aṭâra and Khurbet Suwaykeh.
[Illustration: LITTLE GIRLS OF THE VILLAGE]
Our first visual impressions of Râm Allâh were received on an afternoon early in April, 1901, before the completion of the carriage road, as we approached it by the old bridle-path already mentioned. By this path Râm Allâh is hidden from sight until one rises to the summit just to the south of the village, where many of the villagers have vineyards planted. Between this hill and the village lies a soft depression which, beginning at the watershed to the east of the village, dips away to the southwest towards the little village of Râfât and beyond, disclosing a beautiful view of ancient Gibeon (el-Jîb) and Mizpeh of Samuel (Neby Samwîl). There the village of Râm Allâh rested partly in the edge of the valley, but mostly spread along the opposite ridge. The gentler rays of the afternoon sun brought out the creamy tints of the stone houses standing in their cubical solidity. Here and there rose a taller building; at the left was the red-tiled roof of the Greek Orthodox Church. But by far the choicest bit of the panorama was the house and grounds of the Friends’ Mission property. The house had one of the rare, tiled roofs evidencing Western influence among the flat and domed structures of the truly Oriental style. The well-constructed stone building was the home of the Girls’ Training Home, a boarding-school for young Syrian women, supported by the New England Yearly Meeting of Friends, and named after two of their honored members, “The Eli and Sybil Jones Mission.” I had seen pictures of the place and so knew it at once, though there was now added the charm of colors. The building sat in sweet Quakerly composure among numerous trees and vines. Tall, pointed cypresses, pines and various fruit trees abounded, which once so delighted the gaze of a little girl in the village that she boldly declared that she knew where heaven was. She thought she had seen it when she looked through the Mission Gate on the well-kept grounds filled with beautiful green. Such gardens could be duplicated all over the country at a small price beyond patience.