This wealth enabled her to do much for the colony, helpin’ them to good schools, good books, good food and clothin’, and the teachin’ and the trainin’ that would make them self-supportin’.
Genieve studied harder than ever, worked harder than ever for the good of her people, after the livin’ Victor passed from her life. The immortal Victor, the saint, the hero Victor, always stood beside her. He would not let her sink into the gloom and inactivity of hopeless sorrow. He nerved her to new activities. He held her hand that wrote stirrin’ appeals, and helpful, encouragin’ words for the New Republic. He inspired the vision that saw it risin’ fair and proud from the ashes of a dead past.
She studied history that she might help make a noble history for the new land; she studied law, and literature, and music, all with this sole ambition of helpin’ her mother’s race.
The children of the colony almost idolized her, and in their love and constant companionship she found her greatest earthly comfort.
She taught them all that she learned herself, taught them with the present love of all her lovin’ heart, and with the fur-seein’ eye of one who sees in this new generation the future blessing and regeneration of her people.
And above all other lessons she taught them the Bible with the childlike faith of one who sits at the feet of the Christ.
She studied it and taught it with the rapt vision and earnestness of a prophet who saw that the best future of her beloved New Land rested upon the victories of the bloodless armies of the cross.
She had the faith that Paul had when he gave utterance to these incomparable words, and she saw through faith that her race should “subdue kingdoms, work righteousness, stop the mouth of lions, out of weakness be made strong.”
Her people needed her; she wuz in no hurry to lay down her life-work. She wuz willin’ to stay in the vineyard and work as long as the Master willed.