"'Out to dinner with ——. Any objection?' I asked.
"'No, only be in in time for business.'
"Oh, thank God! I never laid my eyes on her again, nor she on me from that day to this. But I don't want you to get the idea that that escape from her ended my troubles. By no manner of means. Listen!" And then she told me of experiences too dreadful for publication—experiences in Ogden and Salt Lake, Utah; Reno, Nevada. Now she was in Los Angeles—farther away from mother and home than ever; as unhappy, as homesick, as miserable a girl as ever trod the earth. When she happened to be passing the mission door, some one was singing, "Just as I am without one plea." After that door had closed for the night, she followed Sister Taylor and me, trying to summon up courage enough to approach me, fearing that if she did not I should soon get on a car and her opportunity of ever meeting me would be lost.
At the time of our meeting, Anna was well-nigh homeless, friendless, penniless, and, worst of all, Christless. In less than four hours, praise God! she had her greatest needs supplied, and, best of all, she had found her Savior.
In memory of this, one of the songs appearing in this book was written—"The Value of a Song." It was a particular favorite with our family in the rescue home, some girl often remarking, "Doesn't it just seem to fit my case, Mother Roberts?" Then she would get me to relate the story of Anna or of some other poor unfortunate. Alas! their name is "Legion."
THE VALUE OF A SONG.
Words and Music by Mrs. Florence Roberts
1. A poor girl was wand'ring alone on the street Of a great busy city, thro' dust and thro' heat, With despair in her heart as she walked to and fro, When she heard a sweet voice singing softly and low:
CHORUS
Just as I am, without one plea, But that they blood was shed for me,
And that thou bidd'st me come to Thee, O Lamb of God, I come, I come!