Some men make their opportunities.
Less than sixteen years ago a clergyman was called to two New York parishes. One was thriving, the other was standing still, the duty of existence growing heavier with each year of inactivity. He chose the latter church, because, as he said, “there was more work to do.” At that time his congregation was never large and bad weather often made it very small. It had a Sunday-school of less than fifty members and the Sunday services were practically the end of the week’s labor. People were moving rapidly farther uptown; the churches were going with them, and St. Bartholomew’s, at that time one of the smaller Episcopal parishes, while it was stubbornly holding its place, was gradually weakening. And so it was, comparatively inactive, half forsaken, when Dr. Greer came to it.
Dr. Greer left St. Bartholomew’s recently perhaps the most powerful single Protestant organization in the world, a church that spends more than two hundred thousand dollars a year, the old edifice remodeled and crowded to the doors of a Sunday morning, a parish house in the midst of the maelstrom of East Side life; six Sunday-schools aggregating two thousand members, two in English, one in Armenian, one in Chinese, one in German, one in Swedish; industrial schools, clubs, an employment bureau that obtains positions for one hundred people a week, a clinic that cares for one hundred and fifty people a day, a boarding-house for girls, and many other important cogs in an immense and constantly active machine of religious and philanthropic endeavor. It was built up piece by piece, getting greater support as it proved itself, just as any factory or business grows. (Text.)—Arthur Goodrich, Leslie’s Monthly.
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There is an Indian legend of a good spirit who, wishing to benefit a young princess, led her into a ripe and golden corn-field. “See these ears of corn, my daughter; if thou wilt pluck them diligently, they will turn to precious jewels; the richer the ear of corn, the brighter the gem. But thou mayest only once pass through this corn-field, and canst not return the same way.” The maiden gladly accepted the offer. As she went on, many ripe and full ears of corn she found in her path, but she did not pluck them, always hoping to find better ones farther on. But presently the stems grew thinner, the ears poorer, with scarcely any grains of wheat on them; further on they were blighted, and she did not think them worth picking. Sorrowfully she stood at the end of the field, for she could not go back the same way, regretting the loss of the golden ears she had overlooked and lost.
To each of us are golden opportunities offered; life speeds on to the goal from which there is no return; let us redeem the time, for fields are white to harvest.—Illustrated Missionary News.
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Opportunity, American—See [American Opportunity].