What the Washerwoman Sang
During his early ministry, Bishop William Burt was a pastor in Brooklyn. From that period he carried the memory of a woman who earned her living by taking in washing. Sometimes when making his round of pastoral calls the young pastor would hear the woman, as she was working at her daily task at the washtub, singing snatches of hymns which were used at the services of the church and the prayer meeting. But one which particularly impressed him was the day when he was approaching her humble rooms and heard her voice, as she sang:
“I’m the child of a King.”
Assurance was in her voice, and there was a note of triumphant certainty on the part of this humble daughter of toil that she was the King’s child, and therefore heir to all the promises made in the Bible.
Billy Bray, the Cornish miner, had the same happy consciousness. Frequently he would exclaim, “I’m the King’s son!”
The ability to rise above depressing circumstances is seen in this incident
Before Worship
A few had gathered at the Goodwill Chapel service fifteen minutes before the time to begin. The leader often allowed his audience to select the opening hymn. And these early comers were making their choices.
“Here’s a hymn I like,” said one. “It’s ‘We’re Marching to Zion.’” “I like it, too,” said another, “but why do you like it?”
“Well,” replied the first speaker, “there’s nothing uncertain about that hymn. It knows where it’s going. A person can stand a whole lot of hardship if she knows the end is worth it. Yes, I like that hymn. If Mr. Dawson asks us what we want to sing, this morning, I am going to ask for this one.” And so they talked happily among themselves.