"When get home, husband beat me 'cause I go Meetin'—don't stay home work. I say, 'Sarah can't work any more on Sunday, 'cause sin 'gainst God. I rather work night, when moon shine.' So he drive me hoe corn that night, he so angry. I want to pray great deal, so go out hoe corn, pray all the time. When come in house, husband sleep. Then I kneel down and tell Jesus take my bad heart—can't bear bad heart; pray give me Holy Spirit, make my heart soft, make it all new.
"So great many days Sarah go beg for a new heart. Go Meetin' all Sundays; if husband beat me, never mind it; go hear good nabor read Bible every day. So, after great while, God make all my mind peace. I love Jesus; I love pray to Him; love tell Him all my sorrows. He take away my sorrow, make all my soul joy; only sorrow 'cause can't read Bible—learn how to be like Jesus; want to be like His dear people Bible tell of.
"So I make great many brooms; go get Bible for 'em. When come home, husband call me fool for it; say he burn it up. Then I go hide it; when he gone, get it, kiss it many times, 'cause it Jesus' good Word. Then I go ask nabor if she learn me read; she say, 'Yes.' Then I go many days learn letters, pray God all the while help me learn read His Holy Word.
"So, misse, I learn read hymn; learn to spell out many good words in Bible. So every day take Bible, tell my children that be God's words, tell 'em how Jesus die on cross for sinner: then make 'em all kneel down, I pray God give 'em new heart; pray for husband too, he so wicked. Oh, how I sorry for him; fear his soul go in burnin' flame."
"Sarah," said I, "how long did your husband live?" "Oh, he live great many year." "Did he repent and become a good man?" "No, misse, I 'fraid not; he sin more and more. When he got sick, I in great trouble for him; talk every day to him, but he no hear Sarah. I say, 'How can you bear go in burnin' fire, where worm never die, where fire never go out?' At last he get angry, bid me hold my tongue. So I don't say any more, only mourn over him every day 'fore God.
"When he die, my heart say, 'Father, thy will be done—Jesus do all things well. Sarah can't help him now, he be in God's hands; all is well.' So then give my heart all away to Jesus; tell Him I be all His; serve Him all my life; beg Holy Spirit come fill all my heart, make it all clean and white like Jesus. Pray God help me learn more of His sweet words.
"And now, Sarah live poor Indian widow great many long years; always find Jesus friend, husband, brother, all. He make me willin' suffer; willin' live great while in this bad world, if He see best. 'Bove all, He give me great good hope of glory when I die. So now I wait patient till my change comes."
While she was giving this narration, her countenance bore strong testimony to the diversified emotions of her soul. I might greatly swell the list of particulars; but I design only to give the outlines of an example which would have done honor to the highest sphere in life; and which, in my opinion, is not the less excellent, or the less worthy of imitation, because shrouded in the veil of poverty and sorrow. It was evident she meditated much on what little she knew of divine things; and what she knew of the Bible was to her like honey and the honeycomb.
She was in the habit of bringing bags of sand into the village, and selling it to buy food. Sometimes she brought grapes and other kinds of fruit. But as she walked by the way, she took little notice of anything that passed (except children, whom she seldom passed without an affectionate word of exhortation to be good, say their prayers, learn to read the Bible, etc., accompanied with a bunch of grapes or an apple—thus engaging the affection of many a little heart), but seemed absorbed in meditation; and you might often have observed her hands uplifted in the attitude of prayer.
One day, after having observed her as she came, I asked her how she could bring so heavy loads, old as she was, and feeble. "Oh," said she, "when I get great load, then I go pray God give me strength to carry it. So I go on, thinkin' all the way how good God is give His only Son die for poor sinner; think how good Jesus be, suffer so much for such poor creature; how good Holy Spirit was, come into my bad heart, make it all new: so these sweet thoughts make my mind so full joy, I never think how heavy sand be on my old back."