Highways And Hedges

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Highways and Hedges

BY

Grace G. Henry

Chapter 1

SUNRISE ON THE HIGHWAY

"Not any good thing will He withhold from them that walk uprightly."

It was on a Valentine's Day in February of the year 1878 that there came to the home of Mister and Mrs. Joseph H. Stewart, a blue eyed, auburn-haired little baby girl. How strange and wonderful is this life of ours! Who, looking on this tiny bit of human flesh and blood so lately arrived, would have dreamed of ships and planes, of continents and peoples, or of souls in dark lands brought to a saving knowledge of Christ? How great is our Lord, and His ways are past finding out!

These good Scotch parents lived in the small town of Linton, Des Moines County, Iowa. Faithful to the teaching of their accepted belief, they still adhered to the Presbyterian doctrine of their childhood, and so laid the foundation for a nominal Christian life, teaching the same to their children. Up to the age of twelve years, Etta Faith Stewart, the little girl mentioned above accepted these teachings. About that time the family moved from their location, and in so doing found themselves no longer near their old place of worship. So Faith began to attend services at the Methodist church in the community.

Those were the days of protracted meetings among the Methodists. In the course of time, a series of special revival services began. Listening night after night to the old time messages of conviction and repentance for sin that went forth, she knew in her heart that she did not have this experience. With all her heart, she responded to the call for repentance and the pleading of the Holy Spirit and was saved by the power of God.

Because of the physical condition of her mother, early in life, at the tender age of eight years, she began to do a part of the work at home. The mother, being for many years a semi-invalid and unable to be about, was compelled to lay the burden of the housework upon the shoulders of her daughter when only twelve years of age. She took practically the oversight of the entire house. Washing, ironing, and cooking were laid upon the frail shoulders of this very young girl.

One day her mother called her to her bedside. "Faith," she said, "I want you to go out into the kitchen, take all the dishes out of the cupboard, take out the papers, wipe the shelf with a damp cloth wrung out of clear water, put in clean paper and then put back the dishes."

She went obediently into the kitchen and took out all dishes but when they were set out, the paper underneath looked so clean that she merely dusted off the paper and put them back. In doing this she was through much earlier. Her mother awoke from the sleep she had fallen into and called her to the room, saying:

"Faith, have you finished the cupboard?"

"Yes, Mother."

"Did you wipe off the shelves with a damp cloth?"

"No, Mother."

"Then go back into the kitchen, remove all the dishes, and take a damp cloth and wipe all the shelves as you were told to do in the first place." She went back to do the work as she was bidden, and never again did she try to shirk when the patient mother bade her do it right. She learned this lesson early in life.

Her great passion for the welfare of the children that came later in life was briefly shown in her childish thought at about this age when in school.

One day the teacher, in connection with some discussion in class, asked each child what they intended to be when grown up. Finally she turned to the little girl sitting so quietly in her seat.

"Faith," she asked, "what do you intend to be when you grow up?"

"I intend to be the mother of twenty children," she said solemnly.

Faith Stewart eventually became the mother of two hundred children in India and about that many in Cuba.

Two years later there was a special series of meetings held at the Chapel, and the evangelist explained how, after we are saved from sin by the forgiveness of God and repentance, accepting Christ as our Savior, then and then only we have something to give to God. In Romans 12:1,2, Paul wrote to the Christians, "I beseech you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God that ye present your bodies, holy and acceptable unto God, which is your reasonable service. And be not conformed to this world, but be ye transformed by the renewal of your minds, that ye may prove what is that good and acceptable and perfect will of God."

The evangelist went on to say that after being cleansed of sin, we then owe it to God to present ourselves to Him, to be filled with the Holy Spirit, and to be set apart to live lives of power and separate from the world. God would give the gracious experience to all who would surrender their lives to Him. Two years before that, Faith Stewart had really been saved by the precious blood of the Lamb, and when she heard that message, all the love in her young heart responded to the call. She desired a closer walk with God. There was no doubt in her young mind that this was the very message she needed, and a deep desire came over her. The sermon ended and was followed by an exhortation and a hymn of old-time invitation. She arose from her seat and walked up the aisle to the altar and knelt humbly there with others of like burden and desire. Outside the chapel where many who either had no desire to go in or had come too late and found no room inside. They stood quietly on the outside looking in at the many seekers lining the altar. Among these stood Faith Stewart's father. As he stood there among the other men, he saw his own daughter walk up the aisle and kneel at the altar. Resentment rose up in his heart. The Presbyterian Church had no such teaching as this. The ministers of that church did not urge people who professed to be saved to come up to an altar of prayer after conversion. This was fanatical and dangerous, and he would not permit his daughter to become enmeshed in this fanaticism.

He suddenly left the group standing outside the window and going to the open door, strode up the aisle in front of all the congregation, laid his hand on his daughter's shoulder and bade her arise and go straight home. She arose at once and obediently followed him home. But the longing was not satisfied, and the desire grew deeper within as she prayed secretly in her room for what she could not seek publicly. She prayed earnestly and with faith in her heart until God answered and sent definite peace to her heart. And though she was young in years, God set His seal upon her life.

Sometime later her brother, perhaps critical of her profession of a sanctified life, sought to break down her determination to live holy and Christ-like. He decided that if he could just annoy her until she became angry, he could not only satisfy himself that he was right but would be able to convince her that she could not live without sin. Not long after this decision on his part, the opportunity came to give the test. She was home, and there was an engagement to be kept where she must take an early train. It was midwinter and the weather was bitterly cold. This time he decided to put the full test to the case. They arose early in plenty of time to take the train, but he loitered and would not hurry. She reminded him that she would be late if they did not hurry, but he lagged behind and wasted time until the last moment.

The heated bricks were placed in the sleigh, the blankets brought out, and at last they started to the railway station.

As they came in sight, they saw the train starting on its way. Too late. Now she would promptly tell him what she thought about the whole thing. He waited. She turned to him and said, "I really feel sorry for you. For it will be necessary for you to get up early tomorrow morning so we can get to the train in time."

They turned and drove back through the biting cold, and when they reached home, her limbs had become so stiff with the cold that she had to be assisted into the house. The next day she was ill, went down with pneumonia, and was very sick from the exposure. That was the last time her brother ever attempted to meddle with her profession of sanctification.

At the age of sixteen years the burden of a call for missionary work first came, and often she would speak of this to her parents. The frail mother, lying most of the time on a bed of affliction, would say, "Faith, if you are going to be a missionary, you must learn not only to sweep about that rug but to lift it from the floor and to shake it as well. Missionaries need to be thorough in their work for God. "These lessons were never forgotten by the girl who honored and respected her mother whose sickness kept her confined to her bed most of the years of her daughter's childhood. During those years there were a few times that she had been removed to the porch for the fresh air. The rest of the time she taught from her bedside and trained her in the solid principles that most surely prepared her daughter for her life work for God.

In this little country town of few interests and not many people, there was time after all the many tasks to read her Bible faithfully, and as new light fell on her soul, she stepped out and took a firmer stand. Slowly, as she read its pages (especially as she read of the baptism of Christ) she was convinced that this was the only true mode according to the Bible. She also began to realize a true standard for daily life. In order to fulfill her own desires and to obey her own convictions, she sought membership in the Baptist Church of that place.

About this time a young man from Cornell College, Iowa, came to the town of Morning Sun, where the Stewart family resided, seeking young people interested in becoming students in that college. He was directed to the Stewart home. The older brother of Faith had graduated from the high school of that village. The stranger was a Christian, and he was also seeking a place to room while in the town. He found lodging in the Stewart home, and as he remained, he began to notice the young girl in her faithful round of home duties and her loyalty to the church services.

On the last eve of his stay in the Stewart home, he asked the privilege of talking alone with the young daughter and his request was granted. Sitting across the room from him by the fireplace, she timidly listened to his conversation. As a young man out in the world and brushing shoulders with his fellow men, he could easily see that the girl was pure and very shy. He looked at her kindly once that evening as he said, "You do not need to be afraid of me, Faith." The evening at last came to a close, and he bade her farewell. On the morrow he departed for the city of Cornell and to his studies for the winter.

Not long after that, the Stewart family moved to the city of Cornell, Iowa in order that the son might have the privilege of attending the University there. In this city, love and happiness came to the quiet and timid girl. The brief acquaintance with the young student who had visited the home had ripened into something fine and lasting between them, and in due course of time, they became engaged to be married. He was a gentle man and worthy of the girl he so admired, and she, modest and trusting, was finally persuaded to accept the place of all places in his heart and life sometime in the future.

He had not chosen without due consideration for he had witnessed the daily ministering to a sick mother, the care of the home on her young shoulders the many duties faithfully performed each day, and realized that life could mean much to a young man with such a companion by his side. And Faith Stewart returned his love from the very depths of her young heart. She was content to labor in her home and wait through the years while he studied to obtain an education sufficient for the life work he hoped to do some day. Somehow the fact that he was of the Methodist persuasion and she a little Baptist girl brought no barrier between them. They were both Christians, they loved one another, and life held many fine things ahead for them. Never did things go better nor the future seem brighter.

The sixteenth year was indeed a memorable year for Faith. So many big things happened at that particular time. The dear mother who had been confined to her bed so long had always been a comfort and stay to her young daughter, but now was called to her final reward, leaving the full responsibility on the young girl. It was about this time that she began to teach in the Bible School and to take part in the mid-week prayer services and other activities of the church. Here she remained until her twenty-first year. She met the only man she was ever to love as well as receiving a definite call to the mission field.

The year that she was twenty-one, she became very ill. She had never been a very strong girl. Pneumonia soon developed and then settled in her lungs, and tuberculosis seized her frame. Her condition grew rapidly worse until her loved ones were compelled to plan now to save her life. In view of her physical condition, the only thing that now could be done was to put off the marriage indefinitely until in better health. A companion, a middle-aged woman, was employed by the family to attend her and live with her. They went to Denver, Colorado, hoping against hope that the pure air might yet benefit her and save her life.

In spite of the faithful daily trips to the city parks and sitting or half-reclining in the canvas chair in the sunshine, she grew rapidly worse until a council of physicians came to the decision that there was no hope. She then expressed a desire to go home. She was informed that she was too far away and too weak to make the journey across the Rocky Mountains to her native state and loved ones. The only thing left to do now was to wait as patiently as she could for the end. At his time her right lung was but a shell, and there were three cavities in the left one. As she was given but a short time to live, she and her companion would each day prepare a lunch, take the city car carrying a pillow and a canvas chair, and lie in the sunshine most of the day in the park.

As they made their daily trips, they had often noticed a small mission building as they rode past it on their way to the park. One day as they stood in front waiting to take a car homeward, they saw a group of people out in front of the building holding a street service before going inside for the regular meeting. There were special revival services going on, and a young Christian woman came and urged them to come inside and enjoy the singing. After a slight hesitation, they accepted her invitation and went in to hear the whole-hearted singing of hymns. Never had Faith heard such hearty singing. It seemed to spring from the heart and bubble over in confidence of God.

How strangely God seems to work at times. Often the very thing that brings the blessing to us is the most inconvenient at the time of its happening. Sitting there in the rear of the building, she was stricken with a hemorrhage. Some of the men went out of the service and brought in bedding; others placed two pews together, adding pads and pillows. And she lay there too weak and sick to be moved. May Addams, pastor of the little flock, prayed earnestly, asking God to strengthen her and make it possible for her to stay on through the evening service. God answered, and she stayed on through the rest of the day. In the evening she was able to get home through the kind assistance of the Christians who procured a rig and saw her safely home.

While she lay there the ministers came to the side of her improvised bed and talked with her about the plan of God for the healing of her body. This angered her companion who did not agree with the teaching of divine healing. But between services, members of the group would come and sit beside her and read the promises of God concerning His power and willingness to heal the sick. Then they asked her:

"Do you want to obey God's word and be healed?"

Away from home, lonely, sick unto death, no hope held out by man, given but a short time to live, knowing oh, so little about this great adventure of faith, yet honestly believing the Word of God, she gave the only answer that was reasonable.

"I am willing," said she.

They gathered about her in loving concern, strangers, people of a faith hitherto unknown to her, but filled with the love of God and the compassion of the heavenly Father for a fellow sufferer. Alas! How far we have drifted in the Church of the Living God from that faith that these pioneers of this blessed truth exercised. Is He not able, who at the first created the human body, to heal or mend a part of that marvelous piece of fleshly mechanism? She was anointed, and the prayer of faith was prayed as these humble followers of Christ laid on hands and believed.

Though she knew so little at that time about trusting God for her health, she sensed that God had definitely laid His hand upon her. They pressed her to stay for the evening service when she became able to sit upon her bed. Her companion became very angry at this and said: "If you are going to worship with these people, I shall not stay with you or be responsible for you."

At this she made good her word and returned home to her room in the city. After the services Faith went home with one of the Christian women and remained there during the series of meetings.

Each day new strength came, and she found herself improving steadily. By the time that the special services were closing at the little mission, she knew that not only had God healed her but that this humble group of people who had left the world to follow Jesus had brought truth and light to her soul that she had never heard in her life. It was thus she made contact with the teaching of the Church of God and began a new life of service in their midst. The companion who had come with her had at once returned home leaving her among people, who, though strangers, seemed as old friends in their loving kindness toward her.

Chapter 2

LOSSES AND GAINS

"When my father and my mother forsake me,

then the Lord will take me up."

How strangely things work out in life. The companion who had stood by in the dark hours of the past weeks was compelled to be a witness of the healing power of God in the life of the young girl she had so faithfully cared for. But she would not be fair with God and turned her back on God's truth. Her life no doubt would have been wonderfully blessed, but she would not receive it. Instead of rejoicing and accepting this great experience and giving the honor to God, prejudice and an opposing spirit entered her heart, and she reasoned that, although it was all right to receive healing, it was quite another thing to remain on for a season. There was, however, one thing she could do, and that she did--return to her home.

The leader of the small group, seeing the situation, and realizing the circumstances, wrote to her uncle in Woodburn, Oregon. J. L. Green was a pioneer minister of the Church of God and the first to bear the message of this truth in its simplicity to that region. In that day the lot of those who stood out for the high ideals presented were not only ostracized, but were persecuted by professing Christians because they taught that when we are born into the kingdom of God, then and then only are we converted. Also we need not join any man-made organization but live true to God and our fellow men. This very simple Bible truth was so different from the rules set up by men in the various sects and denominations that it brought much persecution in those early days. Realizing this, the kind uncle mailed two tickets with an invitation for the two girls to come at once. Living in this Christian home, surrounded by loving Christian friends, and receiving encouragement and knowledge day by day, she grew stronger in body and established in the great Bible truths so new and vital to her soul. Perhaps the miraculous change in her body was no greater than that wrought in her new outlook on life.

Day by day the Bible was opened and the truths it contained set before her, breaking in upon her soul and bringing joy and peace never known before. Here in this haven she learned anew that God not only forgives sin and make the repentant soul a member of the great Body, the Church, but that when we humble ourselves and present our bodies on an altar of consecration, He sets them apart as a holy gift. He sends down the loving Holy Spirit, cleansing the heart of inbred sin, planting His image on our soul, and filling us with the Holy Spirit and the love of God that we may live a clean holy life in this present world.

With real joy she received what was set before her, steadily increasing physically until in normal health again. But the time came when she felt it her duty to return home. Leaving these new friends now was like parting with her own loved ones. The day came when the last goodbye was said, and she set her face homeward, traveling from the state of Oregon to Iowa. She had been absent from her own home for two full years. With gladness and thankfulness, her father received her back in the midst again. God alone had done this, and he was duly thankful. But as time wore, very soon there came problems.

"Father", said Faith one day, "I cannot join one of the denominational churches as I once did. I know now that according to the Bible we are spiritually born into the Church, the body of Christ, and there is no salvation for the soul in the mere act of joining. Nowhere in the Bible are we instructed to do so. This is a plan made by men to take men into the church. I would have to act against my honest convictions of what is the will of God to do this."

"What has come over you Faith? Is not the church of your parents good enough for you? This group of fanatical Christians have led you away from your own childhood teaching and so separated you from your parents."

"Father, let me explain, please. When we are born into a family here on earth, do we not automatically belong to that family? Do we have to join it after we are born into it? Are we voted in a membership in any certain family? Or does the fact of our physical birth make us a member? As it is in the physical, so it is in the spiritual family of God."

"You have become a fanatic in this new teaching you have accepted," said her father, bitterly.

It was but a short time after that an epidemic of quinsy sore throat broke out in the community and many children and adults went down with it. Amongst these was Faith herself. Her father insisted that she call the family doctor. This was a hard test, for she had resolved in her heart that if God could heal when four physicians had given her up to die, He could also heal minor cases and lighter afflictions. Here again was conflict. It seemed that at every step of the way new trials and tests arose that required a definite stand for God right here in the home that for years had been a family of church-going people.

So, in the very best way she knew, she explained that when Christ was on earth, He went about healing all the sick that were brought to him. Also the Bible states that "He is the same yesterday, today, and forever," that He has faithfully promised to supply all our needs, and is the great physician to all who will believe.

"That," said her father, "was back in the early history when science had not been able to help men so much, and they had not the knowledge sufficient to take care of the ills of mankind. But now," said he, "God in His mercy has provided other means and expects us to use them."

"I too believe that God has provided, through His mercy, science for those who do not know His word and even for those who are weak in the faith, but I also believe that He expects His true children to believe and trust Him. Do we not read in the Psalms, 'Who forgiveth all thy sins, who healeth all thy diseases'? Father, I must trust God for my healing and leave the case in His hands. If He can heal tuberculosis when four physicians have give up, can He not heal this lighter affliction?"

"There is but one answer," said her father, "and this choice must be made as soon as possible. If you will not consent to call in a doctor when you need one as other people do in this community, if you will not be willing also to dress in more fashionable clothing instead of the plain and unattractive garments you have been wearing, and if you will not give up the fanatical teachings you have learned and accepted from those peculiar people, you must go from the shelter of your home. If you fail to comply in this, you are no more welcome under this roof."

Stunned by the harsh demand made upon her, her mind reverted back through the years of childhood to the good mother lying day by day on her bed of suffering, but teaching, counseling, helping, and encouraging. But now she was no longer in the land of the living to plead mercy in this case. She looked at the familiar scenes of the home; every article of furniture was a very part of childhood days, like an old friend. Now under the awful ultimatum, each seemed to bind her heart to this dear place and to cry out to stay. And now she was being compelled to choose, not for a day, not for a season, but for a long, long time between love, shelter, and all that home could mean, and her wonderful experience with the Lord. To stay meant literally to give up the very profession of things she now believed. She was far away from all the dear friends who might have spoken the word of comfort and strength. Now she had been asked to sacrifice the very truths that brought her back as it were, from the grave, set her feet on a brighter trail for Heaven, and given her new light on the grand truths that after two years of faithful study and service in Oregon had become a very part of her life.

"What shall I do? What would Jesus do?"

Down through the years, these questions have been wrung from the lips of many pilgrims on that narrow road to Heaven. Summoning inner strength that would help her surmount the aching void in her heart and put down the longing to hold on to the dear things of home, she made her choice. She did not dare forsake the truth so vital to the very soul. Sick in body, but with confidence in the love of God, and sick in heart, she arose and began to gather her clothing and the very few possessions she would be able to take with her. Truth has ever been high priced, and she realized this as she sadly departed from her home. She knew not where to go.

She managed to get to the railway station in Cornell, carrying her suitcase. Sitting there alone in the station she spread out a newspaper before her and read the local advertisements for help. She must trust God to heal at once for there was no alternative now. At last she read the advertisement for help in the kitchen of a local hotel. There was no place to worship in Cornell where she could hear the full gospel, and there were no longer evenings to be spent in the company of loved ones.

As soon as possible, she saved enough money to travel to Denver, Colorado where God had so graciously healed her. This, however, was not the first but the second blow she had received because of her stand for truth. The young man who had waited faithfully for her recovery had finished his education and become Professor of Mathematics and Oratory. He was ready to start a home and claim the companion of affection. For his sake, she had carried on an extended correspondence telling him of the wonderful things that had come into her life with the experience of the healing of her body. After all, this was the same Bible they both loved and believed, with the same message of truth hidden under the ritual of man made organization.

He was a young man of high principles and quite ambitious to make good in life and one that any young girl might well be proud to have walk by her side as she journeyed through life.

There had been no discord between them when she was a member of the local Baptist Church, and he a Methodist. But this strange new teaching said that one must leave the bondage of sectarianism and the form and ritual of the nominal church of today and come out clear and stand alone on the experience of salvation and the new birth in the kingdom of God. Neither should one join any man-made organization.

This he firmly stated he was not willing to do, neither at that time, nor ever in his life in the future. No, not even for the love of the only girl he had hoped to one day make his wife. How dark some days can be! And how deep are the waters we must pass through on our way to the Heavenly home. How heavy the heart, how slow the step some days. God help us count the cost. Are you, dear reader, willing to pay the price? Standing alone with every loved tie in her life ruthlessly rent, one by one, while still in her twenties, with nothing definite ahead, and home, loved ones, sweetheart turning their backs on her, she had made her decision. A decision that shut out of her life forever the only man she ever loved.

Someone has said, "'Tis better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all." And as she and I sat together talking over the sad days of the past, she said, with a gentle smile, "Yes, many people have asked me if I never had a sweetheart, and if I ever saw anyone I could have loved. I can truly say that my life has been fuller and richer for the love that came into it in my earlier years. Also, I feel it has enabled me to sympathize with those about me in my work through the many years as I could not have done had I not gone through the sorrow and toss that came in my girlhood through love of a good man."

So with door shut to love and the door to that haven of all hearts, home, closed firmly against her, she turned her face westward once more, working in the mission in Denver Colorado for four years. Here she labored and waited for another door to open the magic door that must open before she could enter the mission field. Many tests and trials awaited her as she labored for God in this new field, working with those who had led her into this great experience. It was the day of bicycle riding, and she often rode out along the country roads. One day while out riding, she accidentally fell and bruised her anklebone, but paid no attention to this minor accident.

Soon the place that had been bruised became dark, and the limb was swollen beyond all proportion, growing rapidly worse and extremely painful so that she was confined to bed for some weeks. Her friends urged her to have an examination at once to find out the trouble, and she at last consented. After the examination, one doctor said that the bone would have to be scraped, but two other physicians insisted that the leg must be amputated as tuberculosis had set in. This she would not consent to.

Time and again ministers and laymen came to anoint and pray for her, but through it all she grew steadily worse until they despaired for her life. Then groups of friends would take turns sitting by her bedside, knowing not what else to do but to cheer her last days. Gangrene set in, and the time seemed short. A night came when they thought the end would come. The watchers in love and pity did what they could and waited. Finally one of them leaned over compassionately and asked, "Is there anything we can do for you, Faith?"

"Yes," came the weak response, "anoint me and pray for me."

In the long course of that illness, she had been anointed and prayed for twenty seven times. But who had the heart to deny the request of a loved friend. Once more they anointed her and prayed, perhaps with less faith than at any previous time. But amid this awful suffering, Faith Stewart had never given up and as they prayed once more, she felt the power of God, the healing power, touch her body, and she quietly said: "I am healed. Let everyone go to bed, and I will sleep and rest."

They were very reluctant to go, but finally all retired save one friend who insisted on lying down in the sick room until morning. That night sound healing sleep came, and she rested all night. When she wakened, she looked and felt perfectly normal. She arose and dressed and went into the kitchen where the hostess was preparing breakfast. She had just lifted a skillet of fried meat from the stove when she looked up and saw Faith Stewart standing in the door. She dropped the skillet in her surprise, and the meat fell to the floor. For three days all went well, and there was rejoicing over the goodness of God in that home.

Then suddenly, Satan, who is more real than most people realize, and who sends a test to those whom God blesses to rob them of the victory, tested her faith severely. The foot swelled again, and the awful pain came back. When friends came to go to the services at the church, it was almost impossible for her to go.

Claiming the healing which God had surely done, she went, but suffered all that evening. Then came the suggestion: "Take off your hose and look at the place on your ankle and see if it is not as bad as it ever was." But she had been healed before and knew how Satan always tries to snatch away the victory by suggesting doubts of God's healing power, and also that he has the power to send the symptoms of the sickness back on one. But she also knew that he does not have the power to send the actual sickness on anyone. She went to her room to retire for the night in terrible suffering. God has touched for healing unless they themselves weaken and listen to him, accept the doubts, and yield to his suggestions. This grieves God, and He cannot honor faith that wavers between Him and the power of the Enemy. Then and then only, the healing is lost.

So when she retired that night, she just slipped into bed under the cover, pushing off her hose under the quilt, and never even glancing at the painful foot.

"I know in spite of this that God has healed me, so I will not yield to the suggestion of Satan. I will take my stand on the promises of God. I know that he that 'trusteth in Him shall not be confounded.'"

She fell asleep, and from that day her ankle was perfectly normal.

Chapter 3

HIGHWAYS OF AMERICA

"In Jerusalem, and in Judea, and in Samaria."

It was yet in her late twenties that she went to Los Angeles and labored faithfully until she was able to raise up a growing and prosperous work for the Lord and was pastoring that work when an evangelist came along and after holding a special meeting voiced his desire to pastor there. She turned the work over to him and went on to Long Beach. She was a music teacher and could have in time, no doubt found a number of children who desired to take lessons but there was a scarcity of work just then and people were slow to spend time and money for that which could wait. Then too it would have been hard to arrange time for her calling and spiritual work in the city.

She went to a place and secured a position as sales lady and shared a home with an older couple. In this way she was able to buy the seats necessary to seat the front of the house for worship. Then she began to feel that she did not have enough time for spiritual labor, as she deemed necessary. She began to watch the ads in the newspaper and one day found an ad for a laundress for two days a week. The place was in a very aristocratic section of the city where only the very rich people lived.

When she arrived at the lovely home she went around to the side entrance for servants. The lady of the house came in, dressed in her finery and talked to her. She said to the woman: "I saw your advertisement for a worker and I have come to inquire about it."

"But I want a laundress and you are not a laundress."

"Just try me for a week and if you are not satisfied you need not pay me."

Of course nothing could be fairer and so she was hired. So it was that Faith Stewart, music teacher and minister of the gospel and of the Church of God for the Gospel's sake settled down in the laundry room of the home of a millionaire. At the end of the first day the lady of the home came in and looked at the ironed clothing and said nothing. The days spent under the strict supervision of her invalid mother had not been in vain and her work proved satisfactory. She received two dollars and her carfare.

In her spare time she called in the homes and worked faithfully in the interest of raising up a new congregation for the truth. The work was indeed blessed of God and it began to grow. And also problems began to show up. One day she spoke to one of the servants of a suffering family and of their deep need. The lady of the house overheard and stopped to inquire about the case.

"Are they very poor?" she asked.

"They are destitute and have no way to help themselves," replied Faith Stewart.

"Here is a check for fifty dollars, take this and buy what is really necessary for them."

So she accepted the check and used it gladly for the needy people. From that time on her employer would often give her a check for ten dollars to help in the work. One day when she was down in the laundry the woman and her daughter sent for her to come to the dining room at noon. They were eating in the lovely dining room and she was pressed into eating with them. From that day she was always sent to the dining room for the noon day meal. Time went on and one day the lady of the house came to her saying:

"I have found out that you are a laundress and more than a laundress. Here is one hundred dollars for you. You should be free to do the work that you are fitted for. When you have need come to me for more." But that was something that Faith Stewart could not do. She did not come for more but the little group grew and prospered spiritually. She decided once while there that she would visit a certain congregation that had a sign over the door, "Church of God." But she did not feel at home in the services and only stayed on in courtesy. Then two people began to speak in a strange language, after which the leader said:

"What a pity we have no interpreter, we have been praying for a long time that these brethren might have this gift and now we have no one to interpret. Is there anyone here that can interpret for us?"

A young Chinese man arose and said:

"I am Chinese and I am not a Christian. I know what these people are saying. I can and I cannot interpret, for they are speaking in pure Chinese."

"You say that you can and cannot. That is strange, what do you mean?"

"I can because I understand the language in which they speak. I cannot because although I am not a Christian I was reared in a good upright home and I do not want to repeat what these men have said. Satan has deceived these men and they are blaspheming God and do not know it."

He sat down and a silence fell over the audience because of the awful disclosure made by the visitor. Faith Stewart returned home glad that God had revealed the truth in this meeting to each honest heart.

The hardest kind of work in the ministry is to go out in a new field and pioneer, planting the new field with the precious seed. After the four years of labor in Colorado she undertook and raised up a work both in Los Angeles and in Long Beach. It was in California that God answered in a definite way as to what he wanted her to do. (After this manuscript was ready for the publisher we found several sheets of notes which no doubt were a part of the manuscript of the book she once wrote of her wonderful experiences in India. This book was never printed. What a pity that the miracles and answers to prayer should be lost. We insert the portion here in this part of the book before going further with the story as she told it more fully to me.)

MY CALL TO FOREIGN WORK

"From my childhood I clearly felt that God had his hand on me for some special work, but during those early years I had no clear leanings as to just where he would have me go nor in what line of work he wanted me to engage. But feeling the call of God on my heart as I did caused me at an early age to consecrate myself wholly to his service. Having done that, I left my future entirely in his hands. This deep consciousness, however, that there was some special work for me to do, caused me often to pray that the dear Lord in some way would hinder me from making any plans for my life that could in the least interfere with his own plan for me; but that he would lead me with an unerring hand so that I would be unhindered when the time should come that I would know where He wanted me. And this prayer was certainly answered in a very clear way.

"In the year of 1903 it was made clear to me by the Spirit of God that my work lay in a foreign field; and for some months following that revelation I was very happy in the thought of some day helping to carry the gospel message to a people who were without any knowledge of Christ and his power to save the souls of men from sin.

"However, as I received but little encouragement from God's children, I began to doubt my call; and as a result of this, the sweet rest that had filled my soul was somewhat disturbed. Following this was a short season in which I felt myself shrinking and drawing back. I truly had a deep longing in my heart to fill perfectly my place in the body of Christ, and to let God's full purpose for me be worked out in my life; but I felt the weight of the responsibility that would be mine if I took up a work in a foreign land, and felt entirely unable for it. This, so keenly feeling my lack of ability, together with the fact that others gave almost no encouragement, made it indeed hard.

"Nevertheless, feeling sure the hand of God was upon me, I felt I must get the matter so definitely settled that I would not be moved from my call, or purpose to fill my place in life, by any opposition or discouragement that might come my way. I therefore decided to make this matter a subject of special prayer. Having made this decision, I purposed to spend the following Sunday in fasting and waiting on the Lord, thus seeking definitely for a clearer understanding of his will concerning me, and also for the needed grace to carry out fully his plans. During that day the dear Lord was very near and seemed to hourly deepen the conviction in my soul that I had not been mistaken in this matter but that the divine call of God to foreign missionary work was on my heart, and that I must obey if I expected to keep his sweet approval on my life. As this conviction deepened, the struggle within my bosom became harder.

"At last I left the room where I had been in prayer, and started walking to the seaside, a distance of about half a mile from there. I thought I might, by getting out with nature, be able to shake off some of my feelings. But I was soon aware of the fact that this could not easily be done. Although a struggle was going on within, my deepest desire truly was to know the mind of Christ in this matter. So as I sat alone at the water edge, I cried out from the deep of my soul that God would come to my aid and help me once for all to settle the great question of my life's work.

"Up to that time I had not had the slightest idea as to which field the Lord was calling me, nor was my mind settled as to the exact line of work I should take up. By the time I reached the seaside, darkness had closed in, shutting out the day; and as I sat thus in the darkness and quietness of late evening, my heart cried out that all confusion would be cleared away, and that I might have such a clear revelation of my future responsibilities and of God's will for me, that I would have something to stand on the future. As I sat thus in earnest prayer, suddenly out over the waters, and directly in front of me, appeared a great mass of little brown faces--faces that clearly spoke of deepest sorrow and suffering; and from beneath each little face were two little arms stretched out to me. I threw up my hands and covered my face to shut out this picture, but that was not possible, as what stood before me was a clear vision from God, and human power could not shut it out; but rather as I gazed upon the scene before me, it was burned indelibly into my very soul.

"The pleading look in each pair of eyes, the sorrow portrayed n each little face, and the little brown arms so piteously outstretched towards me, spoke volumes to my heart. I knew that somewhere in God's great harvest field was a mass of helpless little ones pleading for some one to save them. And in that solemn hour God by his Spirit made me to know that he was calling me to go forth to rescue them, and bring them into the fold of Christ that He might be their loving Shepherd too.

"Sitting thus, gazing at the God given vision before me, and wondering where the call came from, I cried out from the deep of my soul, 'Oh God, where are these little ones?' Then just above the little faces, in clear blazing letters appeared these words: 'India's helpless little ones are calling you.' This swept away every doubt as to the certainty of my call, and also the line of work Got had especially called me for. It was then that I cried out from a melted heart, 'Amen, Lord, here am I; send me.' I returned to my room that night with a heavily burdened but peaceful heart, and a clear consciousness that God hat put this special work on my heart. I knew I was called to rescue and care for some of India's depressed little daughters.

"Accordingly I offered myself to the Church for that field. Again I met with nothing but discouragement. The only children's work we had in India was an orphanage located at Lahore, in the northern part of India. Knowing my call was to children's work, I fully expected to be sent there to help in that work. However, to my great disappointment, that institution closed down very soon after this.

Then the brethren to whom I had spoken of my call, said, 'Can't you now see that you are mistaken, as the only children's work we had in India to which you could have gone, is now closed.' They were sincere in this, but my work had been made so clear to me, that I could not doubt. Thank God, it is our privilege to understand the Savior's voice; and the call he had put upon my heart was now deep enough, and clear enough, that such things did not move me.

"From that time on I simply kept myself in readiness to go to India for any kind of work, believing that if I got there, God could and would in his own time work out his own plan for me, and lead me out into my life's work after I reached there.

"At times I wondered if I ever would get to go, as so many things came in the way to hinder me; nevertheless I felt very satisfied and happy in my call. Year after year I was kept from going forth by the many obstacles that came in my way, and at times my heart grew restless under the burden. Sometimes I felt I could wait no longer. At one time the Missionary Board decided to let me go to India and work with Mister and Mrs. Tasker and Miss Josephine McCrie, who were at that time working in Lahore in general missionary work. Had I gone there my work would have been among the women in their homes; but having waited so long, I was truly glad for the prospects of getting to my chosen field, although I knew very well that I would not be fully satisfied unless I had the privilege of working in a definite way among children. I therefore kept holding the matter before the Lord asking him in some way to open a door before me so I could go forth into the very work for which He had chosen me.

"During this time of waiting, God was working in India. He had brought to some of our Indian brethren the knowledge of the terrible traffic in young girls that was being carried on. When they learned of the hundreds of innocent little ones who were being sold into dens of vice for a life of the most dreadful immoral slavery, and also of the precious little ones who were being dedicated into the Hindu Temples, to be victims of the most awful life of sin--slaves to the vile passions of the heathen priests, and the holy (?) men who visited the shrines, their hearts were deeply stirred, and they felt that something must be done.

"Accordingly, after consulting with some of the officials, they wrote to the Missionary Board and asked them if it would not be possible for them to send some one out to open up that special line of work. Their letters reached the Board shortly before I was to have sailed. Those on the Board at that time knew nothing of the burden I had carried so long for the children of India, as I had long since quit mentioning that part of my call to any one but the Lord. But knowing I was the only one ready at that time to go to that field, they wrote to me, laying the great need before me, and asking if I would consider going there to take up that special line of work. Being fully persuaded in my own mind that this thing was of God, with joy I accepted the offer.

"So at last, after nine years of waiting, and testing, all of which was good for my soul, I sailed for India in October of 1913.

"On the evening of my departure from the shores of America, and shortly before leaving the Missionary Home in New York City for the steamer, a sister minister said to me, 'Sister Stewart, I am truly glad some one is going to take up that needy work, but I am certainly glad it is not me; for I would not want to be the one to go out there alone as you are, to pass through the things you must certainly pass through to open up a work like that.'

"This, coming from whom it did, struck deeply into my heart, and for a few moments I wondered if I really was undertaking too much. My heart became greatly troubled. The enemy stood nearby at that time, trying to fill me with fears. He told me that I was taking a leap into the dark and that never would I be able for what was before me. I did not like this burden just as I was to start, so I quietly slipped out of the room and entered a large closet just off the bedroom, thinking I must have a few moments of prayer alone before going. Just as I fell on my knees in that closet, before I could frame one sentence of prayer, the dear Lord spoke to my troubled heart and said, 'Fear thou not; for I am with thee: be not dismayed; for I am thy God; I will strengthen thee, yea, I will help thee; yea I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness.' Oh, bless the dear Lord! I was not going alone, neither would I have to labor alone. For he was going with me and was truly going to be laborer with me. He had promised to strengthen me. He had promised to uphold me. He would guide me by his own dear hand! Why need I fear? And, praise the blessed Lord! Just as he thus spoke to me, all fears were swept away and a deep calm filled my soul. I knew that I was going at his command, and now in a very definite way he had assured me of his presence going with me. The power and glory of the Divine Being filled me as I said the last farewells and left the shores of the homeland.

"Although the years of service in dark India were well filled with times of testing many heavy burdens having to be borne and many perplexing problems solved, yet I was always made conscious that I was not alone. Christ Jesus was my constant companion and full portion. He never failed me, neither was his arm ever too short to reach our need; but daily, throughout the years, he was to me, as well as to the others who joined in with me in that great work, a very present help in every time of need. He truly proved himself to be a Father to the orphans; and as a Father, he supplied our every need spiritually, physically and temporally. For this reason I feel I owe it to Him to tell of some of his marvelous dealings with us and of the tender care he bestowed upon all those whom he entrusted to our care there. Truly my soul doth magnify his name for all His wonderful works toward us! Praise His dear Name."

Now, to pick up the thread of the story as she gave it to me, I shall have to repeat a few things. We continue: Sowing, reaping, moving on to newer, harder fields, she labored on. But all this time there burned in her heart a longing to go to the mission field, a longing and burden so keen that no amount of labor and sacrifice seemed to satisfy. One night quite late, with the weight of the burden on her soul for missions, and desiring to know and have definite leading from God, she walked down alone to the beach. Here the restless waves beat upon the shore. No one shared the beauty of the night with her, and all about was quiet save the sound of the lapping of the restless waves as they rippled and flowed and the deadened sounds of darkness. She sat alone on the sandy beach looking out over the vast expanse of the waters and communing with God. In that hour she cried out to God in the deep of her heart to make His will definitely known to her. she felt that the place whereon she sat was holy ground and sacred, that surely this night she was alone with God. She looked at the moving waters in the darkness and the vaulted dome of the heavens, and God seemed very near.

That night was always outstanding to her. She remembered it as clearly as in the first years. As she sat gazing intently into the dark heavens above her, slowly out of the blanket of night far above the tossing waves and pictured on the skies above, many, many little faces with arms outstretched were reaching out to her. Her whole soul was stirred within her, for she knew that God was speaking to her through this vision in the heavens, and she cried out:

"Oh God, where are they?"

Slowly a change came over the scene. There appeared on the darkened sheet of the evening sky, letters in blazing light, as plain as the handwriting on the wall in the house of Nebuchadnezzar. They appeared just above the group of little faces. The message slowly spelled out, "India's helpless little ones are calling you."

It was enough. Her call from that hour was a definitely settled thing, a very part of her life. But from that night alone, with God at the ocean side, nine long years passed, praying, seeking, serving, waiting. And ever in heart and mind, her face was set toward the little faces and outstretched hands over the sea. Anything that could help to hasten the hour of departure for the chosen land, she sought to do. She left Long Beach, California and went to Anderson, Indiana where the publishing house of the Church was located. It was in the early days of the pioneering ministers. They had been holding services in the Main Home. Finally, feeling the need of a separate place of worship and also the leadership of a resident pastor over the flock, they began to look into the matter.

Up to this time different ministers, serving in one capacity or another, had cheerfully served as best they could. At this time, however, the general sentiment was to select a pastor to be the shepherd of the flock in full capacity. Faith Stewart was called in and asked to take over this responsibility, which she did, pastoring that congregation for some time.

It was while pastoring in Anderson, Indiana that she became very ill and steadily grew worse. Pneumonia works fast and soon all hope for her life was again given up. Dear friends watched by her bedside faithfully, and did what they could to relieve her. Finally they told her she was sick unto death, but she held on to God in her suffering. He gave her the last three verses of the ninety-first Psalm. The kind friend sitting at the bedside turned to the Psalms, reading these precious and meaningful words. Psalms 91:15 "He shall call upon me and I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble; I will deliver him, and honor him. 16. With long life will I satisfy him and show him my salvation."

"That is God's promise to me," she said, "and He will heal me and raise me up again." In a short time, she returned to normal health.

It was not long after this that a plea came from Houston, Texas, for someone to be sent from Anderson to plant this truth in that city. Once more she went forth to take charge of a work in the homeland. By this time, a group of the ministers had organized in a Mission Board and made themselves responsible for getting men and women to the fields. She wrote them at different times when the burden to go forth to the foreign lands seemed too heavy to bear that she could wait no longer, and telling them she was most clearly called to India.

Throughout this weary time, not a word of encouragement came, and frequently letters came to her presenting the fact that, in their opinion, she was unprepared for such a task. Also they mentioned that her frail health would most certainly not permit her to go as a missionary to the foreign fields. Besides this, there were no funds to finance the opening of such an institution, or to support it. So the call, as far as they were concerned, could not be of God.

We cannot imagine the heaviness of heart, the waiting day after day, month after month, year after year. A weight that grew heavier with each delay, the call to the field became clearer and clearer with time. Would the door to the beloved work never open? Time was passing, and little arms reached ever toward her from waiting India. At one time when a group of workers were going out to India, great hope filled her heart, and she began to get ready to go along as they went. She felt that God was surely working this time. Then an affliction appeared on her eyes and caused her hopes to be doomed to disappointment. Again she was left at home in the homeland. This time it was harder than ever before, for she hat procured sheets, pillowcases, ant other needed articles and packed them in a trunk. Then, after the ship hat sailed, there was nothing to do but to take the trunk, packed and ready, and even labeled for India and place it in the attic of the Gospel Trumpet Home, which is the present College building. It remained there for nearly two years until, by the means of earnest prayer and the very power of God, it was taken out of storage.

Pastoring there in the city of Houston, Texas, as she prayed and waited, the days grew longer and hope more dim. One day a woman stood in front of her home waiting for a car to get to her destination. Her little girl, playing about while waiting, fell, and cut an artery in her wrist that bled profusely. The poor woman, holding the freely bleeding arm, hastened up the steps of the house where Faith lived. She knocked at the door, asking permission to enter and care for the child. As the injured arm continued to bleed freely, she became alarmed and asked how to secure the services of a doctor.

"I do not know the name of any doctor in this town, for I have not lived here long. But do you believe that God can heal this arm?" she asked.

The woman hesitated for a moment, and then answered: "I do believe that He can."

Then they turned to God in earnest prayer, and the blood stopped flowing for it had been touched by the power of the great Physician. That was the beginning of the faithful attendance to the services held at the home. It was also the means of her salvation. Her husband had been away from home for several months, living in sin. Later, he returned home to find a Christian family, and he, himself, turned to God.

But again she became more and more restless. Something must be done; some effort must be made as she waited to obey the call. But what? What more than had already been done? She entered into fasting and prayer, with the decision not to break it until God answered by opening the door for her going forth. It was during this great fast that she received a letter from J. W. Phelps, Secretary of the Missionary Board at Anderson, Indiana. "There is," he wrote, "something here very difficult for me to understand. The finances here are low, and we are in dire need of funds for other things. But a fund of one hundred dollars has been sent to the office with the request that it be used to get Faith Stewart to the mission field. The writer says that although he is not a believer in God, he believes in Faith Stewart. Also, he asked that his name is not to be disclosed, nor the fact that he has sent the money to a Christian cause. Do you know anything about this?"

She wrote back, "This man is a neighbor, a very close one, living in the other half of the duplex where I reside in Texas. The reason he does not believe in God is because he does not know God. The reason he believes in me is that he does know me and has watched my life from day to day."

This was the answer to three days fasting and prayer, and she knew at long last God had heard and was opening the magic door to India. With peace and joy, she could now await the next move.

One of the obstacles in the first year of the long nine in which she waited was the assertion that she was called to save the children of India. This, the Board insisted, was a department of mission work they had never considered. As she waited through the years, she had gradually dropped the plea of a special phase of work, asking only to go to India as a missionary. One of the brethren who had been objecting to her going as a missionary was praying one night, and her case came before him. And he said; "Lord, we cannot send her. She would never stand the climate of India."

But God said: "Send her, and I will take care of her health when she is where I want her."

The minister then said: "From now on, I take off my hands and say no more."

As for the infidel neighbor who sent the gift for missions, God rewarded him by saving his soul. His family had been attending the services at the home of Miss Stewart, and as the duplex where she lived had a larger verandah, he made the excuse of having more space to sit and move about on. This man, who was caring for a grandchild during the services, sat where he could hear the message. He also watched the lives of the people who professed Christ and found indeed that Christ was being exalted by their daily living. As he watched, he became convicted of his own condition and came into the room where the people were assembled. In due time, he accepted Christ as his Savior and became a Christian.

On the following Sunday after the letter was received, a cable from Anderson came through asking Faith Stewart if she could be ready by the following Saturday to come through Anderson on her way enroute to India. Who could describe the lifting of the load on her heart? For so many years--just waiting, waiting. It seemed like a strong dream. But God answers prayer. Or who could imagine the great peace and joy that encompassed her soul or the wonderful thought that kept sweeping through her mind? "At last, India."

It was the time of the month for the weekend fellowship meeting in the mission, so she hastily announced the wonderful news to the faithful group who worshipped there. But she needed a typewriter and extra clothing to go as far in a faith work. In the morning, one of the members called for her to take her to the business section because the members had already taken an offering. Enough had come in to buy the ticket for the ship, but nothing for her food on the road or a typewriter. When she returned, she found, laid out on the bed in her room, her outfit to take to India. In pairs of sixes, hose, handkerchiefs, night clothing, and lingerie. How wonderful is our God, and truly His ways are past finding out. She lost no time in preparation for the departure and was on her way the very next evening. On her way to Anderson, she would pass through her beloved hometown, and there would be one half-hour stopover. She hastily notified her father and asked that she might come home just long enough to say goodbye. The answer came back, "NO." As the train pulled in the city of Cornell, she sat looking out over the familiar buildings until she could see the corner of the roof of the barn at home.

How mingled were her feelings that day! Joy and encouragement that her prayers at long last were answered, and she was actually on her way to the land of her call. But there was also deep heart-shaking sorrow because she was cut off from a last glimpse of her dear father. So she sat quietly there on the train, her eyes fixed in the direction of the old home drawing from memory to picture the scene within.

When she arrived at Anderson, she was told that a letter had been received from A. D. Kahn, a native preacher in India, asking for a missionary to be sent out to rescue the little temple girls of that land. This then was God's way to reveal not only His will concerning the call to India, but the very specified work He wanted done. "What A Mighty God we Serve."

Even after they had given full consent to her going to the field, they looked at her frail frame and said to her:

"You only weigh ninety-eight pounds now and probably have just three months to last in a land like India."

And she answered: "I would rather live three months in the will of God in India than ten years in the homeland."

There was no special avenue for the support to come through in those days, or to supply funds after going. The leaders at home took what came in and conscientiously gave out equally to each one. As she stood by, the secretary pulled out a small drawer and poured out the money that lay in it, and with what she had in hand, there was enough just to buy her ticket to New York but nothing for her extra expenses.

She reached New York and visited the Grand Avenue Mission where everything was arranged for her sailing. The ship, Mauretania, was to sail at one a.m. the next morning. That evening there was a prayer meeting held upstairs. As she was coming down the stairs to go to the entrance, the young son of Mr. Blewitt who had just received his first pay for working one month, rushed in saying, "I want to give you something." He handed her a five-dollar gold piece. This was the only money she had with her to go to a foreign land alone. But she was content.

Faith Stewart was no longer a young girl. The years since she first felt the call to serve across the seas had passed over, and she had reached her thirty-fourth year. However, in the joy of answered prayer, and feeling that her feet were at last set in the direction that her head and heart had been for so long, she rejoiced and her cup overflowed.

Chapter 4

HIGHWAYS OF INDIA

"Ask of Me and I will give thee the heathen for thine inheritance

and the uttermost parts of the earth for thy possession."

From the city of New York she sailed to Liverpool, England, and the journey in those days required about a week. The trip was uneventful and the weather fair as they sailed, and she soon reached her destination in England. Stopping over to visit the mission there, she was greatly burdened when she saw how needy this new work was. True she had set out for India, but she had been asked by the Board at home to make this stop-over, and she felt that someone must put their shoulder to the plow; someone must help lift the load. Who was more logical a choice than she? She had been asked at home to encourage the precious souls struggling in this new field.

From the first day of her service in the homeland, Faith Stewart was a builder. Was some of the wall of Zion torn down? She tarried to fill in the breach. Was there a space where no wall stood and Zion lay bare to the mercy of the wolves? She stooped and bent her back among the humblest of God's servants and carried her part of the load until a wall stood again. So, in Berkinhead, England, day after day she tarried until at last three months passed, and she began to feel restless and eager to be on her way to the new land of her calling.

Then making all preparation and bidding adieu to the new and loved friends at this field, she set sail at last for India. All went well for the first them or four weeks at sea. Since she was never seasick, she could enjoy to the full the wonders of ocean and sky in a trip across and look forward now from day to day to reaching her goal soon. Then one evening night settled and all had retired for rest in their staterooms. No one dreamed of fear or danger.

Suddenly there came out of the stillness of the night a warning call for all to arise immediately. The call sped swiftly down the length of the ship where all were sleeping soundly in their staterooms. A terrible storm had risen at sea, and fearful over-hanging clouds massed overhead and swiftly covered the beautiful starry sky and shut out the thousand lamps hanging there. The ship seemed suddenly to be shut in an awful deep and dreadful cave of black clouds and surging waves.

There is something terrifying in the awful darkness of a severe storm on land, but how much more so at sea! There is the feeling of being alone between the awful surging and constant swelling of the waves beneath, and the fearful, blinding elements above. We remember distinctly a brief description we learned in our child hood:

"We were crowded in the cabin,

Not a soul would dare to sleep,

It was midnight on the waters

And a storm was on the deep.

'Tis a fearful thing in winter,

To be shattered by the blast,

And to hear the raging thunder

As it cut away the mast.

And we shuddered there in silence

While the strongest held his breath,

And the angry sea was roaring,

And the breakers murmured, 'Death.' "

(Author unknown)

There seems to be no refuge, and indeed there truly is none save in God. The lightning began to dart to and from across the angry skies, the thunder deep, fearful, like a giant's voice hovering over the ship, rolled and rumbled in the dense darkness. Rain fell in torrents; winds swept the troubled waters and lashed them. The ship became a plaything of the storm, tossed to and fro in the mighty billows. She dipped so low that the water began to pour into her portholes and fill the rooms inside.

When the alarm first sounded, Faith awoke and put her feet out on the floor of the stateroom only to find that water was already rising rapidly in the room and almost up to the springs of her bed. She hastily tied her nightdress at the waist and stood up. Just then the stewardess of that section came into the room. She was distracted with all the excitement and fear that was about her. Seeing this passenger standing calmly in her room, she cried out:

"Oh, I don't know what to do. There are so many calls for help; I cannot answer them all. Will you help me?"

So, clad in her nightdress, she went forth to the aid of others on her first sea trip. Fear had its grip on most everyone on the ship. The lifeboats were lowered.

There was the general impression at first that, because of the flooded state of the rooms, the ship had sprung a leak and was going down slowly. When boarding the ship each one had been given a number. That number was on the life belt provided in each stateroom and it was also the number of a certain lifeboat. There were entire families traveling together on the ship, however, as the work of saving people was being planned, families were not allowed to be together in one boat. There was always the danger of the boat never making shore, and in mercy some part of each family must be spared. So families were divided.

No one, living in security on the land, could truly picture the horror and fear in such a scene at sea. None were allowed on deck for fear of the awful waves sweeping them away in the darkness and fury of the storm. But as families began to realize that it was necessary to separate and what this could mean, consternation seized them and women fainted and were brought in by kind hands and laid out on the tables and ministered to.

Others must be calmed in their hysterical condition, and still others must be controlled from doing rash things in the hour of their fear and anguish. All through these trying hours, Faith Stewart moved to and fro, calm and staid and sure of the guiding hand in her life. God had called her to India, and she had no doubt that He would bring her safely to port in His own time. So, in this time of fear and distress, she moved among them as one apart and was able to serve her fellow man in time of need.

They were indeed a strange looking group. Hundreds of men and women and children who had come hurriedly from their flooded rooms at the warning call, clad only in their night clothes and wet to the skin from the flooded area of the ship.

Among the passengers was a bold and worldly woman who insisted on staying up late with two of the men at the bar (who were of like character) and drinking on into the night. Twice the porter had warned them to go to their staterooms and retire. They still sat there becoming more intoxicated and helpless all the time.

Then the storm was on them without warning. Still awake because she had never retired, she suddenly realized that a serious time had come. As plans were made for departure from the ship, the awful realization came that this was no little thing. Fear, awful and convicting fear, seized her soul. She saw that she was now practically face to face with death and God, and in her awful condition. Who knows what thoughts, fears, and imaginations seized her mind in such an hour? Maybe back in childhood's past there was memories of Godliness, prayer, and trust, and these came before her confused and tortured mind. No doubt she had drifted far from that light.

There seemed to be no time or place in this scene of horror to repent. She had seemed to need no friend before and now knew no one to whom she could turn among the milling passengers moving about in fear and anguish also. She heard only the terrified cries of those who feared to be sent out on the angry sea in the little lifeboats. She saw the fainting of those that had given up in the awful din. One single thought prevailed in her distraught mind. The end had no doubt come; she was living in sin; and she was not ready to die. There was no time to repent. She was lost, lost!

In that awful hour her reason left her completely. She became insane. From that time she was put under guard and later placed in an insane asylum in some foreign place as they went. Ship companies cannot care for an unattended insane passenger. What an awful end! What a warning to all that read this true account! It is, and it should be with solemn awe that we recall the word of scripture, "Be ye also ready, for in an hour when ye think not . . ."

They were, however, never to need the life boats for as the ship plowed slowly through the storm, a quite was soon noted, and they found later that the ship had been floundering in the waters where, like the eruption of a volcano, the matter is thrown up by the awful whirling and surging of the waters below. With the storm above and the waters below, they experienced the worst. But the ship, though hindered by the storm, stumbled on, persevering in spite of all hindrances as she slowly drove out of the vortex and entered calmer waters.

There was to be an extended stop over at Ceylon, India, so the passengers looked forward to this change. There was, however, much to be done. The captain ordered the lady passengers on one side of the ship and the men on the other. Trunks were opened; clotheslines were stretched on deck, and the contents of the trunks were hung to dry on the lines. Trunks open but sodden wet, were left in the engine rooms with the heat turned on, dried out and made ready once more to hold the dry articles hanging on the lines.

It was one of the greatest wash days in the history of the ship. Practically everyone was hanging clothes on the line at once. So, she sped over the sea toward Ceylon with varicolored clothing waving from her decks like a float in a street carnival.

All the passengers worked in unity, glad and thankful, sinner and saint alike, that their lives had been spared, and in gratitude, ashamed to complain of hardships or inconvenience. And so it was that they reached the docks at Ceylon, India. And a strange company indeed they were, all clad in clothing clean but roughly dried. Since, however, so many of them shared the same plight, they happily made the most of it and looked forward to the end of the journey which must yet keep them on the sea for a few days.

Thus, in good time Faith arrived at her destination in the month of February of the year 1914 in Calcutta, India. The wife of one Brother Moses, a native minister, met her at the docks. She was accompanied by a young woman, also a Christian, by the name of Sonat Mundul, the daughter of a high caste Indian. She went to the home of this family for the weekend, and there found true fellowship, and they in turn felt great joy to have her come to them in their needy land. They knew that she came to perform a labor of love in their midst.

Again it all seemed like a wonderful dream that the curtain had been drawn at last, and she was permitted to step from the threshold of her own loved land to enter the open door of this distant country. And what did the future hold of joy, sorrow, trials and conquests? Here at long last was India. Here, as she had sat along by the seaside, God had called across the black mantle of the evening skies and written a message. There was a great work to be done. A sowing beside all waters, for God had said:

"India's little ones are calling you."

Now, after years of tears, fasting, labors, prayers, trials, and longings, this was to be the field and scene of the actual response and the realization of her fondest hopes. It was with peace in her heart at last and a will to do that she, in good time, arrived at the city of Cuttack, where for many years she labored for the Lord. Sonlat Mundul, the Christian girl who accompanied her, remained with her to share her sacrifices and triumphs for many years. She too had felt the call to launch out in behalf of the girls of India, but as a native girl, with all deep prejudice concerning womanhood in that land, it would be almost impossible to start out alone. So she now gladly came to the side of the new missionary.

Throughout the history of India, there have been many almost unbelievable sorrows in the lives of Indian girls. Of these, perhaps child marriage was the most common and cruel. In that day, frequently little girls of eight years of age were sent away from the home of parents and the love and care owing to a child of such tender age to a strange home with an unkind mother-in-law or a cruel husband, or maybe both. Only God above and the tender little wife could tell of the lonely hours and the sad and bleeding hearts separated from brothers and sisters, from mother's care, and the familiar surroundings of childhood to serve a husband who may be thirty, or forty, or even sixty years of age. This was not a marriage of choice. If her husband chose to beat and mistreat her, there was no divorce or breaking of the marriage contract. She did not sign the contract in the beginning. It was the work of others, but she was required to abide by it. They had planned and contracted, and she only paid the price for the rest of her life.

Another sad picture of this far land was the wrong of enforced widowhood. If her husband died while she was still practically a child and left no children, or perhaps had no sons, she had to bear the fate that was hers from that time. If she was unfortunate enough to live to be sixteen years old, her head would be shaved, and she would never be allowed to wear pretty clothing or the bracelets and ornaments so dear to the Indian women. She was allowed one meal a day and not allowed to share in the pleasures of the rest of the family.

Her little lonely heart became so sad and her existence so desolate and meaningless that the only way out seemed to be for her to take her own life. The census report of 1891 records that of 287,000,000 population of India, the number of widows, and oh, so many of these were yet mere children, were 23,000,000. This meant that those girls would never be permitted to marry and have a home but must live a lifetime the veritable slave of others.

Perhaps one of the outstanding sorrows of Indian life was the seclusion of their women, or the "zanana." This particular custom came from Persia, a custom that required women to live in a secluded part of the home. In this way the Indian girl was deprived of the liberty of outdoor life. Only her husband, father, son, or brothers may see her face.

There was another custom of marrying a little girl to a sword, and from that time she belonged to the god, Khandoba. Parents devoted this daughter to this god and in so doing consecrated them to a life of shame.

But we are particularly interested at this time in mentioning the temple girls. We have been informed that by far the greatest number of Hindu temples are not longer than eight by ten feet, or just enough room to house the idol and the priest who cares for it. Sometimes the god is nothing but a stone without any particular shape or design. Perhaps a bit of paint has been put on it, and someone has set it up under a green tree or perhaps in some small recess of a wall. A few withered stems or flowers or perhaps some broken coconut shells may lie about the idol, showing that someone has been worshipping there.

Plain and meaningless as this stone may be, it still receives the services of devoted followers as though it were one of the great beautifully carved idols in a fine temple. Also it is as faithfully worshipped. However, in the large and elaborate temples, there is often a hall where people may gather to listen to recitations concerning the different idols. Many of these buildings are covered with figures. It is often beautiful work and some times very crude as no means may be had to have better.

The temple at Puri is a very great temple and so of course must have many to serve and many to come to worship. Each servitor must have one special duty. There is one servant to put the idol to bed, one to take care of his garments, another to awaken him from his supposed sleep, and so on. A report given of the temple at Puri states that there were over one hundred dancing girls, or slaves of the gods.

Someone has written concerning these: "The gods in the Hindu heavens are not satisfied with having one or more wives of their own. They have also a number of public women called Asparis."

And according to Hindu belief, men and women who have performed some meritorious deeds go to heaven, and their chief happiness consists in the company of the Aspara. These little temple girls on earth are to the priests and devotees what the Asparis are in heaven. The only excuse for its existence is that it is a part of the religion of India. These young girls are dedicated in extreme youth, even in their infancy, to a life of prostitution in the sight of God and man, for they become the common property of the priests.

It was to this last named group that E. Faith Stewart dedicated her all in service. She strove to rescue them from a life of sorrow and shame and give them a vision of real and honorable womanhood.

There seems to be an opinion of some that John A. D. Khan founded the "Shelter" in India. This is not true. He came to America and returned to Cuttack, India and purchased a home for his own family use a few years before E. Faith Stewart went to India. After arriving in Cuttack, she was able to rent a very modest and small home not far from the Khan home. Sonat Mundul, who was a teacher, stayed on and taught the children. It was in this home that a little mite of a girl was rescued and brought to her who had already been dedicated to the priests. A girl with soft brown eyes, a beautiful child, just ten days old.

A rocking chair had been brought over to India from the homeland. This chair was used by the new foster mothers as a cradle by day and a bed by night. Placing a pillow on the seat, they pulled the chair up to the bed at night and so watched tenderly over her day and night. With such a small beginning began the rescue work of temple girls in the life of Faith Stewart. That same chair, after serving for years, was brought back to Cuba, and after all these years stands today in regular use in her own bedroom.

Often she saw women go weeping down the road either with an infant or a child to dedicate it to this sad life. Indian mothers are not hard. They have been taught that this is the very highest sacrifice, and being anxious to please the gods for fear of their displeasure and revenge, these sad mothers enter into this with the highest motives, sacrificing their tender little ones. Let me give you a report in Sister Stewart's own words:

"Knowing that these sad conditions truly existed, we were deeply burdened by our love for these sad and unfortunate little ones, and so we opened up a home where we could shelter and protect those who were liable to fall into the hands of persons engaged in immoral traffic.”

"In the beginning, we had difficulty in getting trace of such cases or being able to get them located, but by diligent and courageous effort on our part, always praying and trusting God to aid, and keeping persistently at it, it began to bear fruit. Some of these precious little children we were able to rescue from the slave traders themselves before they were sent to their destinations. We could think only of the awful places where these innocent little girls were held and long for some means to bring them out to where they could live normal lives and hear the Gospel. "In those early days, I realized that we could not move fast, but we kept right on watching for every opportunity to gather them into the fold and shelter of the home. However, we realized that alone we could really accomplish little. We began to pray that God would help us and send us the needed aid. It was four years after we started that, at long last, we received a letter asking if it would be possible for me to work in the capacity of Honorary Inspectress of Police. Also they offered to give me full authority to save these little girls from the dens of vice.

"More opportunities came, and more was accomplished from this time on. Also when there was famine and pestilence, this greatly increased the number of homeless and parent-less children and left great numbers of destitute with no relative or friend to help them.

"We lost only a few of those we brought in starving, their little stomachs distended and in an awful state. God was good, and we were able to save most of those we took in. Knowing these facts, we were anxious to fully understand conditions that we might be able to do more for these precious children. When we made investigation, we learned that Cuttack, a city of about 75,000 inhabitants, had been for many years a headquarters for gathering these little ones into the brothels. According to the census report of 1919, there were over 10,000 girls under 14 years of age in the licensed brothels of Calcutta alone. The keepers of the brothels in Cuttack had shipped many of these little ones there.

"Besides the public brothels, we had what is known as the temple brothels. These were houses connected with the great heathen temples where the little temple girls are kept. The temple girls are children who have been dedicated by their parents to the gods in the temple for a lifetime service. So, in fulfillment of this vow or some other vow that has been made, many little jewels are carried in the arms of their mothers to the temples and there laid on the altar as a sacrifice to the gods. The women in the temple brothels care for these infants.

"At the age of five years, these children begin their services by dancing before the gods for their amusement. When they reach the age of nine or ten years, they are put into what is called a full life of service to the gods, but is in reality nothing less than a life of slavery to the passion of the priests who serve in the temple. The life of these poor little girls is beyond description.

"Knowing that these horrible conditions really existed, our hearts were constrained by the love of God, who is also the Father of these unfortunate little ones, to open a home where we could give protection to those who were liable to fall into the hands of persons engaged in it is immoral traffic, and also where we could take in and protect any we might be able to bring out of these horrible dens of vice.

"Therefore on September 1, 1914, the doors of 'The Shelter' in Cuttack, India were opened. Miss Sonat Mundul, (mentioned before) an Indian lady of high birth, good education, and solid Christian character offered her services for the noble work, and together we opened the Home and began a diligent search for such little ones.

"Some little ones were rescued right from the slave traders before they were handed over to the brothels. In this we greatly rejoiced, but we could not yet feel satisfied. We longed to stretch forth our hands and burst open the doors of the dens of vice and bring out the little lambs that were being worse than slaughtered there and carry them to the shelter where they could enjoy the happy freedom of innocent childhood and be reared in a pure Christian atmosphere where they would grow up to noble womanhood.

"Although the work was hard and slow in the beginning, still we were conscious that God was working with us as one by one we gathered them in. We were aware, however, that unless we had the Government working with us and backing us in our undertaking that we would be able to accomplish little in such a work. Therefore we prayed earnestly that God would give us favor with them. In December of the year 1918, our hearts were made thankful by receiving a letter from the Government asking if I would work in the capacity of Honorary Inspectress of Police of Puri, Cuttack, and Balasore, India, they would invest me with authority to rescue minor girls from the brothels.

"Knowing that it was the hand of God that brought this about, I gladly accepted it. At last the doors to these dens were unlocked to me, and it was my privilege to enter in and bring out the precious little ones who had so long been held in bondage. From that time, the work moved forward more rapidly and we have at this present writing one hundred and ten happy children housed in the 'Shelter.' The first of these whom we had been able to rescue after she had been placed in a brothel was little Rangbati. When but two years and four months old, she was sold by her mother to the keeper of the brothel for two dollars and fifty cents and a piece of cloth. After locating this child, we appealed to the Commissioner of the Division for assistance in rescuing her. Then in company with Government Water Inspector, I visited the brothel, looking around here and there while he worked in another room. Suddenly he led me where a child was lying asleep on a floor. She was a dear little Indian girl pitiful in her baby innocence as she slept quietly there. I stooped as though to look at her and just then the caretaker left the room with the inspector. Quickly, I stooped and lifted the little one up in my arms and ran for the vehicle, which in India, is a closed coach. Ladies must not travel in an open coach in this land for fear that men will see their faces. Just then, the Inspector came hurrying out to drive me to the station to board a train for Cuttack. We had gone to the city of Puri where the great temple was. As we climbed into the coach, the nurse ran to the door screaming loudly after us, but ignoring her cries, we sped on our way to the train. Thus was dear little Rangbati saved from a life of horror and shame and was brought into the shelter of a Christian home and all that it means."

Chapter 5

LITTLE HANDS, LITTLE FACES OF INDIA

"Suffer the little children and forbid them not to come unto Me."

How full became the years of labor in this beloved land of India, of darkness and sunshine, of culture and raw heathenism, of souls, precious souls, to be gleaned from its fields. Little hands no longer stretched out over the sea, but were now so close, so very close, and dear little faces with their sad eyes always pleading, it seemed, to be rescued. The modest building that first housed the "Home" soon became inadequate, and a larger one was needed. But on, ever on, was the watchword and the steady inflow of an ever increasing family of children of all ages brought in from the places of bondage where they were held, or from the famine fields. They came to the "Shelter" sad, starving, sick, or needy and filled the place.

So they soon began to look about for a more suitable and sizable building. And she writes: "How we thanked God that through earnest prayer and waiting upon Him, funds had gradually come in to build a suitable home. We were able not only to secure a tract of land suitable for such a home, but to erect a large two story building with a wide verandah stretching along the entire length in front and planned with the suitability for the care of little children."

When all had been done and a spacious lawn surrounded the structure, it was a monument to the goodness of God and His children here on earth. As need came and as funds slowly accumulated, a nursery building was put up. A school building was added later, and a beautiful chapel for worship stood on the grounds. Later still, as the girls grew older, a weaving shed was built. Here the oldest were taught to weave, and the Government bought all the cloth they wove on their looms that was not used at the Home. They also wove baskets and other needed articles, and in time, the older girls became self-supporting.

This was a wonderful move in the history of the Home, and again she writes: "How we thanked God that funds gradually came in to build the 'Shelter', and thus afford a good home for us. When we were well settled and moving along nicely in our new location, two brethren from the States, making a tour of the mission fields and looking at different institutions as they traveled through the countries, visited India, bringing along a notebook of suggestions hoping to be of help to me. They said:

"'We have visited on our way to India places of like intention in many homes for children, taking down notes to share with you.'

" 'I will be very glad to have any help or ideas you may have obtained to aid me in the work and will appreciate your giving them to me.'

"'No,' they replied, 'we shall not need to do so. This Home is the best planned for little children that we have found in our travels, and we feel that we could add nothing to it.'

"As they stood looking out over the mission area upon the general view and the good buildings erected one of them said:

" 'Where did the money come in for all this outlay?"

" 'I know one thing,' said the other, 'it did not come from the Mission Board, for we have not sent it.'

"It has been supplied by God and faith in His promises," said Faith Stewart. With what happiness she received the word of commendation from those who had so reluctantly sent her to the field.

At one time, she again made the trip to Puri with the Government Water Inspector hoping to rescue at least one child. They made their way into the Home, and the Inspector went about his business. She looked about her, and she saw not very far away five little girls, the youngest a baby of about nine months, (this child had been married to a god when she was only three months old.) the oldest one ten or eleven years old. Addressing the nurse she said:

"Are all these children registered?"

"No," she replied, "I cannot get away to get it done."

"Don't you know that the law requires that you to register these girls?"

"Yes, but I have no one to care for them."

"I will stay on while you are gone."

The woman hesitated to leave a foreigner in charge and seeing this, Faith Stewart drew back her wrap and revealed the Government Star of Inspectress, and the woman prepared at once to leave and do the work. As soon as the public woman departed from sight, she picked up two of the children, gave the smallest child in the keeping of the largest girl to carry, called to the other one to follow, and made her way to the closed coach.

Poor little ones, they, perhaps, felt very fearful of this strange white woman now taking them from their home to they knew not what further sorrows, but there were no ties of love. No one held them with endearing words or had fondled them. They must, in fear, obey those that ruled over them and obey as slaves. So they meekly followed her, climbing into the strange coach and being well hidden from sight. Who knows but that something in the tone of the words of this stranger had a note of pity never heard before by these precious little ones and stirred their little hearts in a new way and gave confidence to them in this strange white woman who had come so unceremoniously into their lives.

She sat in the coach among them, little hands, little faces, not in the gloom filled skies still pleading for her love and protection, but close now, very close, as they hovered about her in their strange surroundings, leaning heavily on her now to rescue them from the horrors of a hell on earth. And so they reached their new home where food and shelter and loving care and happy childhood days awaited them and where the childish mind in time could put aside the memories that haunted of loneliness, loveless-ness, and the awful void of such a life.

These rescues were not accomplished as easily as it may seem, for it brought anger and hatred from the keepers of these homes as well as from the officers and priests of the temples. Her life was in imminent danger as she went about liking them out of these dens of vice. At one time there came in from the famine fields, left alone no doubt by the death of their families, two little girls perhaps two and three years old. After all, who among the natives could succor or show pity or compassion when they themselves were hungry and facing starvation? In their suffering and want, their little faces were the faces of the old and their bodies so emaciated from hunger that their little legs and arms were bare skin and bone and looked too frail to bear the head and trunk. A dull expression of misery had stamped itself on their tiny faces and was enough to touch the most indifferent heart to pity. These too were brought to the "Shelter" and fed and clothed and loved and cared for, and in four months, none could save recognized the little waifs who entered. These dear little ones stood hand in hand, restored by the grace of God and the loving pity of His servants, learning to live as sweetly and innocently and purely as protected little ones at home and to know God and to learn to pray, to believe God for the very blessings of life, and even to ask Him for all things. But if all were written, this would be a story of many pages and too long to be written here

Many of my readers will not have read Living Faith, and so we will note an incident of the child life in India that rightfully belongs here.

"It was on Saturday morning, and everything in the Children's Home was in commotion. They had definitely planned to take a lunch and go to the riverside that afternoon, giving the children a good time out in the open air. They were so happy about it all. But it was well understood that the work must be done up nicely before going, so they were all doing their very best. Everyone who was large enough was putting their strength right into the work and planning on a wonderful time that afternoon.

"But alas for their plans. No sooner was dinner over than clouds began to gather and the sky became dark overhead, and soon the rain began to fall. What a disappointment it was to them all! But these children had long ago learned that God was their father, that He is interested in the joys and sorrows of each of His children, and that He answers prayer for those who trust in Him. It was not very long until the children themselves held a conference and then away they went some to one bedroom, and some to another.

"So they began to pray, and every few moments, some child would slip out on the verandah to look at the sky to see if was clearing. Soon, sure enough, the rain suddenly ceased, and then, although the sky was still dark, the faith of these little ones was not daunted. God, their father, had answered their prayers and stopped the rain. And could they not trust Him to finish what He had begun? They insisted that it would not rain and began getting ready, so we honored their faith and started. At that time, we had a visiting missionary from another part of India in the home. She started with her umbrella and the children remonstrated with her, but she was not equal to the test.

"Knowing that they had asked in faith that God would clear the day so they could go, and as He had stopped the rain, they felt certain that He would not stop them. Why should they, then, take anything with them to protect them against the rain just as if they did not expect a full answer? This, however, is the way that most of God's children trust Him.

"The riverside was soon reached, and oh what a joyful time they had! They played and had their lunch, and near dark, they all came home. The clouds remained scattered over the skies. The glaring sun was hidden behind them, making it an ideal day for an outing. Not a drop of rain fell, giving them a happy afternoon in answer to prayer. They trouped home, and as they entered the 'Shelter', the rain, as if held back by an unseen hand, suddenly turned loose just as the children passed in and began to pour down, and it rained all that night. This was even more convincing to the children that God in His plan had an afternoon of rain, but had held back in answer to prayer.

"What a lesson of faith in the goodness of God to His little ones. They never forgot it, and it was graven deeply on their minds that God loves to answer earnest prayer. This should be a lesson to God's big children also. We should all take Him at His word, rest on His promises, and honor Him by asking largely that our joy may be full and also that His dear name may be lifted up among the people."

In later life, many of these children when in places of need, or having problems too large to solve, separated from their beloved "Mama" by the wide ocean once more, would remember these times and be encouraged to go on trusting in the God whom they were taught to believe really loved them.

There are many people, yea, multitudes walking in the dim vista of a common world, living a common life, who never rise above the ordinary nor ever associate with those who live in a higher realm. These say that the day of miracles have long passed, and those who are so foolish to believe differently about the mater are simply fanatics and a little queer. But for those who live close to the heart of God, who walk faithfully through field and fen, it is a beautiful reality.

It was