Wheel Chair Singers
We looked long at the unusual picture which stood out prominently on the front page of our morning newspaper (an AP Wirephoto). The item carried the heading which we are using. A group of twenty-five singers was shown, and they all sat in wheel chairs. They were all polio patients, and among them were several naval officers. A special article in The New York Times supplied additional details.
The courageous singers were seated in the little white chapel in Warm Springs, Georgia, where President F. D. Roosevelt last attended a service of worship. Now, two years after his sudden passing, a memorial service was being conducted for him. This was on April 12, 1947, and three hundred polio victims and villagers were present—the patients also occupied wheel chairs. An overflow company of two hundred were outside on the greensward in front of the chapel, and listened to the service which was conveyed to them by loudspeakers.
The pew in which President Roosevelt always sat when he was at Warm Springs was reserved. Warm Springs was the place to which he often went when making his heroic fight with his affliction. The health-giving sources which he there found were greatly helpful. It was there that death came suddenly to him; there the Little White House stands; and there State Guards have maintained constant vigil since his translation. The American flag was on that day at half staff at the unpretentious cottage where he spent restful, though busy, days.
The leader of the Wheel Chair Choir, Mr. Fred Botts, also occupied a wheel chair as he directed his group of plucky singers—young people who were there for treatment. For the Georgia Warm Springs Foundation is the largest center in the world for the treatment of poliomyelitis. Thither go patients from every state in the union.
One newspaper supplied the thing I wanted to know, for I wondered what hymns would be sung by such an exceptional choir—young people fighting with determination for their health and their future. First came:
“Faith of our fathers! living still.”
The second hymn which the Wheel Chair Singers led the congregation in singing on that pleasant April day was one which is peculiarly impressive:
“Be still, my soul: the Lord is on thy side;
Bear patiently the cross of grief or pain;
Leave to thy God to order and provide;
In every change He faithful will remain.
Be still, my soul; thy best, thy heavenly Friend
Through thorny ways leads to a joyful end.”
This hymn by Katharina von Schlegel appeared in 1752, and very little is known of the writer. It was “adequately translated” by Jane Laurie Bothwick (1813-1897) of Edinburgh. While visiting Switzerland, a friend suggested that she translate some German hymns in which she was interested. Therefore she and her sister, Sarah Bothwick Findlater, worked together in translating Hymns From the Land of Luther.
Comforting and challenging must have been the appeal to the hearts of the crippled patients as there came to their lips the words of the second verse:
“Be still, my soul, thy God doth undertake
To guide the future as he has the past.
Thy hope, thy confidence let nothing shake;
All now mysterious shall be bright at last.
Be still, my soul: the winds and waves still know
His voice who ruled them while He dwelt below.”
Times there are in life when not only the occupants of wheel chairs, but also the rest of us, may serenade our souls by singing or quoting that bravely suggestive line:
“Thy hope, thy confidence, let nothing shake.”