Katie seldom spoke of herself. Deeds, not words, alone spoke of the change within. Yet her life bore beautiful testimony to the profession she made. And what better evidence could be required that the love she professed was genuine, than that her life daily assimilated more and more to the divine pattern which Christ hath given? He himself said, "By their fruits shall ye know them."
As may already have been inferred, Katie's parents were extremely poor, with a large family of small children to support; and the father being out of employment much of the time, they often wanted even the necessaries of life, and it was no uncommon thing for Katie to go supperless and hungry to bed. Therefore, as soon as she was old enough, she felt that she must do something to assist her parents in supporting the family. Only one path was open to her, and that was domestic service. Unhesitatingly she availed herself of it. Whatever her strength was equal to, Katie was willing and glad to do; and in seeking a place, she had but one stipulation to make—which was, that she should be allowed the privilege of going to Sabbath-school on Sunday afternoons. Some kind friend procured for her a situation in New York, where she would have light work and high wages. The distance appeared to make no impression whatever on Katie, as she asked the usual question, "Can I go to Sunday-school every week?" On being told that it would not be convenient to have her absent on that day, no persuasions could induce her to accept it. And it was so in every instance.
Though she began service at the early age of twelve years, yet in no case did she ever fail of giving satisfaction. Faithful in the discharge of her duties, active, and obliging, she invariably won the love and esteem of all who employed her. But she did not change often. With one family, the first she entered, she remained over eighteen months, and then only left because sickness demanded her presence at home.
She devoted all the wages she received to the wants of the family, never retaining a penny for herself. Once when urged by her mother to do so, Katie replied, "Yes, mother, just as soon as the children get fixed up." But, poor child, this seemed a hopeless task—there were so many of them, and little shoes will wear out, little frocks will get torn—so that Katie never came home without finding it necessary to supply some article of clothing. Yet she always did it cheerfully, thankful that it was in her power to assist at any sacrifice. Thus this noble girl toiled on month after month, looking for and receiving no reward, save in beholding the happiness she conferred at home, and each day studying how she might increase it. Surely of her it might well be said, "She hath done what she could."
About six weeks previous to her death, she obtained a situation in a highly estimable Christian family in Brooklyn. And here she appeared to grow more spiritually lovely, more tender and affectionate in her manner, more thoughtful for the comfort and welfare of others than ever. The new friends with whom she was living had lately been called to pass through peculiarly severe affliction. One after another of the loved voices in that family circle had been hushed and silent in death, and yet that dread messenger who had summoned them away still lingered. The husband and father of that stricken band had for a long time been ill, and all felt that in his death their bereavement was soon to be complete.
Katie soon endeared herself to every one in the house. She was to them like an own child, and as such was treated. Seeing her destitute condition, they at once furnished her with suitable clothing. Katie's gratitude was unbounded, and the affectionate manner in which she always spoke of them showed how truly she appreciated their kindness. Her quick and ready sympathies were awakened as she learned of their repeated trials, and by every means in her power she endeavored to console them. A daughter near her own age, whom they had recently lost, appeared to interest her most deeply. She never wearied talking of her, and would frequently say to the mother, "I am sure I shall see and know your dear R—— in heaven." With the invalid father, Katie was a great favorite, and when she was not otherwise engaged, he loved to have her with him. Katie would then take her little Bible and read to him the sweet promises of Jesus, or sing some of the many beautiful hymns she learned at Sabbath-school. Her simple comments on what she read at once amused and interested him, while her glowing faith seemed to quicken and increase his own. Who shall say that the ministrations of this blessed child were not instrumental in lightening his pathway to the tomb; dispelling the doubts and fears which cluster round it, and revealing more distinctly the smiling face of Jesus to him who was so soon to pass through the dark valley?
A favorite hymn was the following:
I'm a pilgrim, and I'm a stranger,
I can tarry, I can tarry but a night;
Do not detain me, for I am going
To where the streamlets are ever flowing;
I'm a pilgrim, and I'm a stranger,
I can tarry, I can tarry but a night.
There the sunbeams are ever shining,
I am longing, I am longing for the sight;
Within a country unknown and dreary,
I have been wandering, forlorn and weary.
I'm a pilgrim, etc.
Of that country to which I'm going
My Redeemer, my Redeemer is the light;
There is no sorrow, nor any sighing,
Nor any sin there, nor any dying.
I'm a pilgrim, etc.
