Since you, in January, spoke of “the abundant recompense” which all your workers in the field have, I have been thinking whether those who have fallen from the ranks have any, and I feel sure that we, too, have a goodly share of it, and I want to tell you something about mine.
In the years when I was engaged in the work, pious souls often assured me that I would have my reward in the future, both of this life and that which is to come. I replied: “I get so much reward from day to day as I work, I don’t see how there can be any left for the future.” But I was mistaken; those workers who have been laid aside from active service find that the reward continues after the work is done.
It comes to us in various ways—this “abundant recompense.” We often thank the Master that when health and strength were ours He led us into the Southern field, and gave us so much to do there that self could not always have our first or best efforts. The consciousness that all the best years of our lives have not been wasted ones is worth a great deal to us, and as we think of the work, and plan and pray for it, even now our souls grow stronger, braver and truer. There has come into our lives a recompense in the Christian sympathy and love of noble souls who have toiled with us, and of those who have helped us over many a hard place with their money, and stayed our hands with their prayers and words of cheer. I hold in sweet and grateful remembrance many who have opened their purses in response to my importunate and oft-repeated calls, some of whom have entered upon their eternal reward.
Up from the Southland comes many a word to cheer and comfort the heart. From the pen of one who has long labored there comes the precious, but forgotten promises of the 41st Psalm. How the heart thrills with thankfulness and gladness, and, it may be, with a little pride, when a present worker assures us that some of those pupils in whom we are most interested, and for whom we have long worked and prayed, are growing in true manhood and womanhood, fitting themselves to go out into the harvest field to take up the work that has fallen from the tired hands of their teachers. Of those pupils who are already teachers many are carrying the light and truth received at school into the gross darkness which hangs over their people. From the rice fields of Ogeechee, where two of us began the work and labored from 1865–’67, comes a good report from one who has since, and in other places, been our pupil, and I have your assurance that he and his wife, also a former pupil of mine, are doing good work there. In that “School of the Prophets,” the theological department at Talladega, are some who manfully struggled through common fractions under my instruction. To them it was a fiery ordeal, but it proved what manner of stuff was in them, and when they get out into the conflict of life, fighting against the powers of darkness, I shall look for victory.
One who nearly twelve years ago was taught to read in the old boat-house on that beautiful sea-girt isle, is moved to preach the Gospel. He writes me that his greatest desire is to go to Talladega to prepare for the ministry, and will do any kind of work to pay his expenses.
The hearts of my old aunties send up many a “God bless her dear soul!” One writes, “I have been studying about you a great deal. I have been praying for you, and if it is God’s will, you will get well.” Another says, “Tell her I pray for her every day.” Oh, how rich the prayers of these poor children of the King make one feel!
All these things which make up our “abundant recompense” are riches which cannot “take to themselves wings,” but are as enduring as the eternal ages. And who can tell what work for God has branched off and is now spreading over the South, from the little that we, the worn-out ones, have done.
N. T.
Augusta, Me., March 12, 1879.