A WEEK’S WORK BY LADY MISSIONARIES.
FIRST CONGREGATIONAL CHURCH, SELMA, ALA.
By Miss Mary K. Lunt.
Sunday, Jan. 14.—A bright, crisp morning, and as we prepare for Sunday-school, we think that many of the little ones will be necessarily detained from their accustomed places, or at least, be obliged to see their cards with unclipped figures upon them. But no, one hundred and nineteen are present, a good average, and but few are tardy, notwithstanding that many have walked a long distance, and perhaps without having taken breakfast. At 9:30 A.M. the opening exercises commence—singing, prayer, chanting the Lord’s Prayer, and responsive reading—after which the weekly offerings are collected in envelopes, and the amount subsequently reported, also the number of pupils present, reported by the Secretary. The contributions are appropriated as follows: First Sunday of the month, for needy Sunday-schools; second and third, our own needs; fourth, our church; fifth, foreign missions. Several schools have been aided by this method, and the pupils bring their papers carefully folded, to be sent to other Sunday-schools. Collections last year amounted to $50, revealing the fact that scarcity of nickels does not keep them from helping others less favored. After the re-assembling of the classes, two of which, the infants, the girls named “Buds of Promise,” the boys, “Little Soldiers,” are taught in the rooms below, the main school comprising eight classes and one Bible class; their attention is directed to illustrations and lesson topics on the board by the superintendent, supplemented by remarks on the lesson from the pastor. Some of our teachers and pupils have read original papers on the subject of the lesson for the morning, this being an incentive to a more thorough study of the lesson. At 11 A.M. we are seated for the morning service, and after the usual opening exercises and responsive reading we listen to an earnest discourse, founded on the closing passages of that wonderful Sermon on the Mount, contrasting the builders, showing the foolishness of building religious characters on false pretenses, and the importance of building on the solid rock Christ Jesus.
At 3 P.M. is the children’s meeting known as the “Look Up Legion,” but called by some the “Look Up ’ligion,” composed of members of our own and other Sunday-schools of the city, ages ranging from two and a half to twelve years. Their regular and prompt attendance attests their interest and zeal. One of the members of the choir assists in leading the singing, which is a prominent feature of the hour. Our principal readings and talks are taken from the book, “Talks to Boys and Girls about Jesus.” Always when available we give them a short juvenile temperance story, and distribute books and papers when we have them. Our motto is “Lend a Helping Hand,” and the aim to teach to become children of the Great King, to help others to become such by inducing them to come to Sunday-school and to these meetings, where they can hear about Jesus. One little girl said to us to-day, “I am glad you have these meetings, for I get tired reading, and mamma won’t let me play.” One of the larger boys is anxious to know if we are to continue them during the year. At 7 P.M., with a good and attentive congregation, we listen to one of a series of illustrated sermons, which has been our privilege since Christmas, an earnest and solemn appeal to the unconverted from the passage in Rev. vi., 13-17, plainly proving that the fear and confusion of those who cried “Fall on us and hide us,” resulted from the sinner’s own carelessness and indifference, and it is hoped that the truth found lodgment in the hearts of the hearers, and will bring forth fruits meet for repentance. Our day closes full, and if in after years we see the young filling honorably responsible positions, we shall not regret that we were “sent.”
MISSIONARY WORK, SAVANNAH, GA.
By Miss Jane S. Hardy.
Monday, Jan, 15.—Early dawn found me wide awake, and planning the work of the day. Soon the accustomed “ding dong” caused a general stir in the Home, and the second call brought us all into the dining-room, where we soon satisfied our bodily wants, and on bended knee sought “supplies of grace” for our spiritual needs. Soon another bell announced the approach of school-time, and nearly two hundred pupils gathered, as was their wont, in the chapel of Beach Institute. There God’s blessing was again invoked, both in song and prayer, a few words of counsel were given by the Superintendent, and the scholars were dismissed to their respective school-rooms.
I would fain have lingered there; for it brought to my mind the many years of happy toil spent among my pupils in the school-room. Yet I am content—yea, happy, in doing the work that comes to my hand in visiting from house to house.
My first call this morning was upon the Deacon’s wife, who greeted me in her usual lady-like manner. Although often bending over wash-tub or ironing-board, she leaves all to be taught her reading and Bible lesson. She is not a Christian, but the truth brought before her in repeated Scripture readings is evidently making deep impressions.
My next call was at the house of a church member, but a wanderer—bitterness in her heart, “cares of this life and the lust of other things entering in have choked the word and made her life unfruitful.” She cannot read; but I have resolved to carry the word to her. May God lead her back to her Father’s house!
Mrs. K—— is a cripple. For her diseased feet I carried a pair of soft shoes, sent by some good friend in the North.
I found her with a company of children gathered about her whom she was teaching to read, thereby earning five or six dollars a month. She is an intelligent Christian woman, and has lately been reading “Prince of the House of David,” for which she expresses great admiration.
Hastening home, I met a class of young men—hotel-waiters—who are off duty in the middle of the day, and desire to improve their leisure time in studying the three R.’s and the Bible.
At two o’clock, I went into the school building to attend a prayer meeting held daily among the pupils since the opening of the Week of Prayer. There are indications of the Spirit’s presence among us, and we are anxiously hoping that some of these dear young people may be turned to the service of Christ.
After dinner I went to a distant part of the city to meet a regular appointment for a ladies’ prayer meeting. This week the meeting was held at the house of a good sister, who kindly opened her well-furnished parlor. A good number gathered to hear the word and to mingle their petitions at the throne of grace. Among those present was Mrs. S——, who, so lately, came into the kingdom. Her great desire is to work for the Master. Thus passed an hour, helpful, I trust, to us all. Returning home, I felt called upon, ere night should close in, to visit a family much afflicted by sickness. Both father and mother weak and feeble, no ready cash in hand, and seven small children to care for. No wonder the days look dark to them. We are glad to give them a helping hand. A few articles of clothing, a little money, and words of cheer are the things they most need just now. In the evening a Sunday school scholar came for instruction, giving me another opportunity to sow seeds of truth in a darkened mind. How precious are the opportunities that come to us day by day!
MISSION WORK AT ATLANTA, GA.
By Miss Lizzie Stevenson.
Tuesday, Jan. 16.—The heavy rains since my return from the North, Jan. 3, have kept me much at home. This morning, however, I started out, and soon found myself at Aunt Judy’s door, but she had gone to a neighbor’s to get warm. When she saw me, she said, “Missus I’s so glad you’se come back. I was just talkin’ about you. We folks don’t have nobody to come roun’ and see and talk to us since you’se gone.” She has been a cripple for years, but this winter is unable to work, on account of rheumatism. She has always been contented and happy, and “proud” that she could pay her rent, fifty cents a week. But to-day it made my heart ache when she said that it took all that “Wes,” a grandson ten years old, could make by picking up rags and papers to get something to eat and a little coal. The landlady had just been there for rent, but she did not know where she could get the money. After reading a few of the Saviour’s words, and commending her to the Father’s care, I gave her a little toward the rent and left her. I next found two children about two and four years old hovering around a handful of coals; talked with them a few minutes, gave them a picture paper and passed on. I then stopped at Aunt Gracie’s and knocked, but no answer; so I pushed open the door and went in, and spoke several times before I could rouse her. Then with great effort she told me that she had been in bed several days with rheumatism. Her miserable shanty is but poor protection from the rain. Every thing in the room was damp, and not a stick of wood or a mouthful of any thing to eat. I carried her a little food and sent to the wood-yard for wood. But the streets, which are not paved, were so muddy they would not deliver nor sell even an armful.
Next I find Mrs. Williams, who has been sick for two months. She is very old, and has for years supported herself and two orphan children by picking up rags. As soon as it was light she could be seen with her sack on her shoulder going to her work. She is quite sick, but fortunately she belongs to a society, which provides for her. From here I go to see an Auntie who is over one hundred years old. She is unable to lie down on account of asthma. As she sees who it is she exclaims “Bless the Lord, honey, I knowed the good Lord would send you back, kase we old folks haint got no one to come round and read to us when you’se gone! ’Pears like the rest are so busy. I prayed the Lord would send you back, and I felt it in my bones you’d come;” and she thanked the Lord again and again for sending me back. And at so many places their first exclamation was to thank the Lord for sending me back to read to them. Another poor woman, who has not walked for years, and whose husband has deserted her, is entirely dependent on the neighbors for her support; and no doubt she goes hungry many days. She said to me as I was leaving, “Miss Lizzie, I didn’t get no Christmas ’cause you’se gone.” After making several other calls and distributing quite a number of Sunday-school papers, I came home with a sad heart to think how little I could do to relieve these poor needy ones. Sometimes I feel that it is mockery to offer to read to them, when they are so cold and hungry. If I only had the means to make their bodies comfortable, they could enjoy so much more the food for the soul.
DAY’S WORK FOR JESUS—RALEIGH, N.C.
By Miss E. P. Hayes.
Wednesday, Jan. 17.—As this is the day for our woman’s prayer meeting, I had taken that day to call on the members of our church. After breakfast, I was preparing to start, when Georgia came in to inquire if I had heard from the ladies who were coming from the North. Then Mr. Smith, our pastor, called to decide upon articles to be read at the concert the next Sabbath evening on the work of the A. M. A. I wrote a postal to thank the lady who sent a nice silk hood to an old, sick auntie, and started.
It was raining a little, but I determined to proceed. I made the first call at Mr. Young’s, close by. Mr. Y. is blind and paralyzed. They were eating breakfast. It was then 10 o’clock. Mrs. Y. said they had nothing to eat till she went out and hunted up something. One day during the snow, as they had no wood, they were obliged to remain in bed till three in the afternoon, and the Saturday night before they had no wood, and nothing to eat. I furnished them with enough to last over the Sabbath. As Mrs. Young is a reader I gave her a paper, and went on to Mrs. Hills. Mrs. H. has two little children, and cannot get out to church, but is very fond of reading. I found her with a good coal fire, and looking very comfortable. I left a paper, and stepped into Mrs. Smith’s to see if her children were as destitute as she had represented and to request her to send her boy to the wood-yard to order some wood for me. I met her husband coming out half drunk, and talking in very loud tones. The boy was stretching a line around the room in which they lived for his mother to dry the washing she took in. Some wet wood in the fire-place was making a feeble effort to burn. I couldn’t see how clothes could dry in such a place as that, and said so to Mrs. S. She replied that she was compelled to dry them. When I came out, the rain was pouring down, but I was obliged to go to the Bank to get a check cashed, as I was out of money, and was expecting a barrel of clothing with a freight bill to be paid.
After going to the Bank, drug store and post-office, the rain and mud conquered and I turned my face homeward, feeling thankful when I entered my door that I had so good a shelter. I built a fire, or tried to, with wet wood, as all our wood is soaked with rain when we buy it, and spent an hour in selecting Bible verses for a Sunday-school class coming in the evening to study for a concert the last Sabbath in the month, partly wrote a letter to thank the ladies of Hopkinton for a barrel of clothing, and to interest them further in the work.
After lunch, Dea. Jones called to inquire about his part for concert. As the rain had slackened, I went to prayer meeting at three o’clock, at Dea. Dunston’s. We meet with the different members of the church. Dea. D. is our oldest member, seventy-three, in feeble health, and enjoys having us meet with them. But five were there, and three of those members of the family. All took part in the meeting, and after its close, I assisted the daughter, in selecting an article to read at the concert. She chose for her subject the Indians.
When I came home I looked over the mail, and went to inform Mrs. Bembry, with whom I had engaged board for the Northern ladies, that they would arrive Friday morning. On my way I stepped in to see an old lady who is paralyzed, and called to tell Georgia when the ladies would arrive. In the evening a Sunday-school class came to study verses, and get temperance cards. Then I finished my letter, wrote another and retired, feeling that I had accomplished but little.
ONE DAY’S WEAVING—MONTGOMERY, ALA.
By Miss Rebecca G. Jillson.
Thursday, Jan. 18.—The Swayne School for the colored children of Montgomery, with its four hundred scholars, is just opposite the “Teachers’ Home.” The day began with a call at the school; a bundle of Sunday-school papers was soon distributed among the boys. Near the school-house lives a good woman, from whose home two girls have just gone to Talladega to school. I stop and talk with her about their going and read a letter for her. A neighbor needs help, the mother and seven children are all sick. Although dependent on friends for care, these are the sick woman’s words: “We’re all down, but old Marsa knows what He’s doing.”
On the porch of the next house stands an old grandmother, children of all ages around her. A girl of eighteen promises to come to the Home twice a week for lessons. Across the way lives a kind-hearted woman; her neighbor, a sick woman, has only her little son and this friend to care for her. She needs much the comfort of God’s word and his assuring promises of help. Another is waiting for sympathy; she is alone though not widowed, and tells how, when the human help on which she leaned failed, she found support in God alone. A young woman whose husband’s health has failed is trying to help him by keeping a little store; she is brave though sometimes discouraged. The next call is on a woman just recovering from illness. Her friends have been kind to her in her sickness; this interest in one another is especially noticeable among the colored people. Stopping to speak to a group of children, “this one, they say, has no father or mother, so we have taken her in.” Two other calls in this neighborhood are made; an invitation given to a young man to attend the Singing School and to a young girl to renew her interest in music; and now the house of a faithful church member is reached. The Ladies’ Missionary Society and what work it may do is discussed, and questions from the article on Missions in Life and Light are left to be prepared for the next meeting. Two calls near by are made. One lady is interested in music and is glad to hear of the cantata we are to learn. The next is a scene of labor. This good woman washes for a large restaurant and has in this way earned enough money to build a substantial house. Every day piles of table-linen must be washed and ironed, and when it rains, every corner in-doors is made use of to dry the hundreds of napkins and towels.
The first call in the afternoon was on an old lady, a faithful Christian, who finds that her pilgrim journey has had in it many passages and experiences like that of the pilgrim of old, in whose story she is much interested. The Celestial City is for her almost in view, and her entrance there will be triumphant. “I’se only waiting,” she says, “for the Lord to say: ‘Elsie, come up to glory.’”
Several girls come to the Home in the afternoon, two to learn to make worsted hoods, two others to take lessons in music. There is also time to fold the Sunday-school papers for distribution next Sunday. Late in the afternoon I called on a mother whose little child God had taken home to himself. Our next neighbor is a man of intemperate habits. I had a talk with him. At nightfall a young woman came in and sang some of the old plantation melodies. In the evening a young girl came for lessons, and with her, two boys, who spent the hour with pencil and drawing cards. With God’s blessing may the day’s work not be in vain.
A DAY IN NEW ORLEANS.
By Miss A. D. Gerrish.
Friday, Jan. 19.—Having attended morning devotions at the University chapel, equipped with my satchel and a few gifts to be distributed here and there, I wend my way to Mrs. R.’s to hold a promised meeting. There are six of us altogether. At the close of the brief hour spent with Jesus I stop to speak with a young Catholic girl. The mother is evidently surprised. She “didn’t know as I’d talk to such as she.” I reply, “I came to speak to all.” My next call is at what I term the half-way house. A few late flowers still bloom in the pretty garden and the oranges seem turning a deeper gold, touched by the warm sunshine. Aunt Comfort is “only just about so so.” We talk of household affairs and the revival. An offered prayer for us both and I bid the dear old lady good morning. On the street a sad-hearted mother delays me for a moment to ask that I will please pray for her son, who is dying and without hope in Christ. With a few kindly words of sympathy and a promise to remember the young man, I pass on. The door of Mrs. A.’s pleasant room stands open and I pause long enough on the threshold to receive her cheery “Good morning” and the injunction to “be sure and stop next time.” As I reach the top of a winding flight of stairs a voice full of childish eagerness asks, “Did you bring my little Testament?” The Testament, a tiny book, and some picture papers are taken from my satchel and three little hearts for the time made happy. The mother is very grateful for the garments given her for the children. An urgent invitation is left with her to come to the evening meeting. Another call made and the city bells ring out the noontide hour. I stop for lunch and rest at Sister W.’s.
Mrs. M. lives at a distance, so I take the street cars. A rap at the outside gate, a careful climbing up the rickety stairway and I am warmly greeted by the little woman. Would that I had space to describe to you her one bit of a room. She says: “You must excuse it; ’tisn’t alus possible to keep things lookin jus so.” She has received no pay for her last three months’ washing, so for want of car fare her Sabbaths have been spent at home. I must tell her all about the meetings, the New Year’s tree, how many have joined the church, and affairs generally. With a prayer and a substantial proof that the “Lord will provide” her heart is comforted. I find Aunt Sally “jus tolable, thank’e, but powerful busy.” She tells me once again, “’Twill be a glorious time, shur nuff, chile, when I can leave this ere washtub for a manshun in de hebens.” I seek out a delinquent Sabbath-school scholar and call upon two interesting little girls, who promise to come to the sewing school. A picture paper given to each and I hasten homeward.
After dinner I find a little time for writing. Promptly at 7 o’clock the church prayer meeting begins. The passage selected for the evening lesson is Jer. 8:20. The large audience listen attentively to the pastor’s words. In the hush of this tender interest nine come forward for prayers. The voice of petition rises in their behalf. Two tell us that they have found Jesus. We sing “Praise God from whom all blessings flow.” Benediction is pronounced and the meeting closes. Another day, with its joys and sorrows, its failure and success, is ended. Its record is with Him who sees and understands. In the quiet of my room I kneel to humbly ask that it may be accepted as “one more day’s work for Jesus,” knowing that it is “one less of life” for us all.
LINCOLN MISSION, WASHINGTON, D.C.
By Mrs. C. B. Babcock.
Saturday, Jan. 20.—Be sure and find us when you take your pleasure trip to Washington, and we will show you better than we can write, the need of missionary work among its 60,000 colored people. This is one of our winter’s worst days. It rains fast, and the streets are full of snow and water. Breakfast over, I hastened to market for meat to make broth for the sick, and to the grocery for bread. While picking my way over the slippery pavements, a grandmother calls after me with a request that must be heeded. On entering my room in the Mission, a barrel from Brooklyn awaits unpacking. God bless the dear friends of the North who so nobly respond to my appeal for help. They never will know how much good the old clothes do. Before I’m half through, knock number one brings old Auntie Bennett, afflicted with a disease so offensive that she cannot attend our gatherings. When leaving with her bundle of warm garments, in steps Auntie Harris, always so trustful in the Lord, and yet she says, “I sat all yesterday without any fire”; her husband and crippled son unable to provide. Thankful for a little relief, she goes out to carry a big bundle to another poor creature, who, with her old man, have scarcely a crust, and nothing but a leaky shanty for shelter. Caller No. 3 is a young woman, bringing a note from the police station and a certificate from her doctor, that tells of serious sickness, one two-year-old child, and nothing wherewith to help herself. I send her to see our Day Nursery, and tell her to bring her baby on Monday, and I will see what more can be done. Her dull, wan face brightens as she leaves. Tom C. comes next—my boy, who draws our Temperance blackboard illustrations, paints our signs, puts up Christmas decorations, &c. I’ve just received his fit in a suit; so, with a patch to mend the sleeves, and more work under his arm, he goes. Pinkie T. has framed some mottoes, and I ask her to hang them in the school room, paying her with a pair of nice boots. Annie C., our missionary girl from Howard U., comes to assist, and, as a member of the Doing-Good Society of the school, this P.M. brings a report from sick Mr. Green. After preparations for the afternoon, and a peep into the nursery, where the floors are being scrubbed and the children are taking their bath (for, though the Associated Charities have adopted this, my pet project of last year, and have appointed a committee of ladies, I have the daily supervision). I leave for lunch at 12½. The girl’s industrial school opens at 1½; 61 out of 130 scholars are present. We are divided into 15 classes, each with a teacher, if enough ladies are present. I appoint a girl to attend to callers. We open with singing, and sew until 3 o’clock. Some are making bags for their work, some patch-work, some, fancy-work, while others are mending or making garments and learning to cut them. We intersperse sewing-songs. They help the pupils to remember instructions. From three to four we have various exercises, such as talks on health or manners; Bible lessons, repeating the Child’s Creed or the Commandments, with responsive chant or a Psalm and the Lord’s prayer. To-day, we have an object lesson in house-keeping. A table is placed on the platform and Annie C. is asked to prepare it for tea. She arranges the cloth, dishes and food, with criticisms from the scholars. Then, she invites four girls to sit and eat while she acts as waitress. After eating she removes the dishes for washing and folds the cloth. A few more callers and the busy week closes. Thank God for the sunlight it has brought to us during our revival meetings in the conversion of two of our dear girls.