THE POOR BLIND WOMAN.
I have a true story to tell about a colored woman who lives in the city of Salem, not far from Boston.
She is old and poor and blind. She has had a husband and six children; but they are all dead; her last remaining son was killed in the war, and she is now quite alone in the world.
But she is a cheerful old body. She does not whine, nor complain, nor beg; though she needs help much, and is very thankful for any help that is given her.
When she goes out to walk, she finds her way as well as she can by groping about with her big umbrella. Very often she loses her way, and goes in the wrong direction; and sometimes she gets bewildered: but I have never known her to be really lost or hurt. There is always somebody to set her right; and it is pleasant to see how kind every one is to her.
Many a time I have seen some gentleman, while hurrying to catch his train, stop to help her over the crossing; or some handsomely-dressed lady take her by the arm, and set her right, when she has gone astray.
Best of all it is, though, to see the children so kind to her. She comes to our square every Saturday; and, as she is very apt to go to the wrong gate, the little girls—bless their dear hearts!—seem to consider it their duty to guide her, and to help her over the slippery places.
In the picture, you may see Lily helping the poor old woman along, as I often see her from my window. Another day it may be Lina, and the next time Mamie; for they are all good to her. Even baby Robin runs to meet her, and is not afraid of her black face.
Last week, these small folks had a fair for her in Lily's house. Nobody thought they would get so much money; but they made fifty dollars out of it. This will make the old woman comfortable for a long time.
The good woman said, when she was told what they had done, that she hoped the Lord would reward them, for she could not.
I think he has rewarded them already by making them very happy while they were doing this kind deed.
P.
