VISITS THE POORHOUSE
I am not old--though time has set
His signet on my brow,
And some faint furrows there have met,
Which care may deepen now--
For in my heart a fountain flows,
And round it pleasant thoughts repose,
And sympathies and feelings high
Spring like the stars on evening sky.
--Benjamin.
It was evening in the late summer, and Edwin was sitting upon the porch. He
had been reading, but the paper had fallen carelessly by his side. In the
western sky the beautiful tints of gold were rapidly changing to the deeper
shades of lavender and crimson, and as he gazed upward among the drifting
clouds he seemed lost to his earthly surroundings. So enraptured and
carried away with his meditation had he become that he did not notice the
approach of his faithful wife as she came to take her place beside him.
"Edwin, your thoughts tonight seem to be very far away indeed," she said.
"I hope that you are thinking of things that are pleasant"
With a smile and a word of welcome, Edwin awoke from his reverie and said:
"Yes, Wife, my thoughts were pleasant. In imagination I was living over
again some of my early experiences."
"If that is the case, my dear, I greatly fear that a part of your thoughts
were not as cheerful as they might have been," his wife said as her chair
was drawn closer. Taking the hand that was scarred and disfigured in
several places by abuse in his childhood, she continued: "I fear that many
things concerning your childhood would be very hard indeed if you were
forced to live them over again even in thought."
"Yes, Wife, that is true. There were many hard and bitter things, which are
indeed painful to recall, especially those pertaining to my mother. To know
that she has left this life without any hope for the future world, feeling
that such was unnecessary, is hard, but it was not of her nor of her
attitude toward me that I was thinking altogether. I was meditating upon my
life as a whole. You see, more than fifty summers and winters have passed
since I left the poorhouse in my boyhood days, and I have passed well over
the best part of my life. I am now on the downward slope of life's mountain
of years, and it will not be long until I shall be entering the valley of
the shadow of death."
The soft fingers of the gentle wife closed more tightly over the hand they
held, as she said:
"Yes, dear, neither of us is young any more, for the silvery threads are
already in our hair; but whether our years on earth are few or many, I
believe that we both are ready to enter into the presence of our Lord at
any moment that he should call for us."
"I have no fears on those lines, Wife," Edwin said, while his eyes were
still upon the beautiful horizon; "for I have the sweet assurance within my
soul that I am a child of God and that I am on the road that leads to
eternal bliss and glory for all who are faithful unto the end. But this
evening as I sat here gazing upon the beautiful handiwork of God, I
wondered what could be awaiting us in that brighter and better world beyond
the grave."
"That is not for us to know now, Edwin, but some day the curtain will be
drawn aside, and I am sure that the scene will be all the brighter for our
having had to await God's time to reveal to us the mysteries that he has
for a time thought best to veil."
The silence that followed seemed too sacred to be broken, and the gathering
darkness crept slowly about them. When the last shade of crimson had left
the sky, Edwin said:
"I have been thinking of the many good things that have come to me in this
life, and the manner in which they have come. It seems that God's hand has
been over me ever since I can remember, and as I look back now I can see
that God has always been my guide ever since I chose to do the right
because it was right to do it, and that even in my extreme ignorance, when
I knew nothing of God's existence, he guided my steps and enabled me to
live a life that was upright and consistent in the eyes of the world. Then,
when I had no earthly friend who was able to unfold the mysteries of the
future world to my entire satisfaction, he became my teacher and taught me
how to be born into his heavenly family. Surely it was only through his
divine protection that I have been brought through all my perplexities to
the present time. Then as I was thinking about my childhood home at the
poorhouse, a great desire to visit the place again crept into my heart. It
seems to me that it would be a comfort to stand once more upon the same
ground and to see the scenes that I beheld at the time when I was a
helpless waif."
"Fifty years, Edwin, have probably made many changes, and nothing would
seem the same to you now. It could not be as it was when you were a child."
"That may all be true," Edwin replied, "and yet the more I think about it,
the greater becomes my desire to go and visit the place again. If you could
give your consent, I should be glad to go at once."
"That you certainly have," his wife said earnestly, adding, "I will gladly
do all in my power. Edwin, to help you to prepare for the journey."
Three days later Edwin kissed his wife good-by and with his handbag in his
hand started for the railway station. After boarding the train he had a
long and tiresome journey, but at last it was at an end. Alighting from the
train, he stood for a moment upon the platform, trying to think which way
to go. Noticing a man standing near, Edwin inquired the way to the
poorhouse, and finding that the distance was not too great to walk, he was
soon wending his way in that direction.
In that section of the country the land was quite level, and long before
Edwin reached the place, he could see the large brick building that during
his stay there was the quarters of the vicious and insane. He wondered if
it was still used for the same purpose and if the same sights and sounds
could be seen and heard. In a little while he was in front of the place
that was his home half a century before.
Leaving the highway, he passed through the open gateway, and a picture of
his uncle in the buggy with the little forlorn poorhouse waif sitting
beside him arose in his mind. Looking about, he wondered if either Mr.
Engler or the chore-boy Jim were in sight; but he was not long in
discovering that a new manager (or "steward" as he was called) by the name
of Blohm had taken Mr. Engler's place and that no one could tell him the
whereabouts of Jim. He was beginning to reah'ze that what his wife had said
concerning the changes of fifty years was true, but the greatest surprize
was before him.
The room in which he had been left by his heartless mother was still fresh
in his memory as he had left it to go to his mother's home. When a moment
later he stepped inside the up-to-date office that was in the main
building, he could scarcely believe that the apartment was the same that he
had known years before. Nothing, not even the couch upon which the
cruel-hearted woman had laid her helpless babe, was there, for all the
furniture was bright and new.
Here he met Mr. Blohm, and after introducing himself as one who had
formerly been an inmate of the home, and relating some of the Lord's
dealings with him, he told a little about his checkered experiences and
ended the story by telling of his divine commission to preach the gospel.
After all this explanation he was shown every possible favor and looked
upon as an honorable guest. In fact, he was taken by Mr. Blohm himself all
over the establishment.
A few of the inmates whom Edwin had known in his childhood were still
living, and although they were greatly changed in appearance, he recognized
them as the same persons. When he passed through the long hall, he thought
of the time that he had followed Mr. Engler on his way to meet his uncle in
the office, and he took a special look at the very spot where he was
standing when the steward gave him the order to come.
Passing outside, he was told to examine a large marble stone that had been
placed in the side of the building, and he found that all the names of the
different managers, including August Engler's, were there. In another large
building he found the bakery, and in this busy place the greater part of
the cooking was still done. As he passed through the large double doors
that divided the two apartments, everything seemed for a moment as it had
been fifty years before, for just outside he could see the spot where he
with other children had stood looking down into the bakery hoping to
receive from some one a crust of bread or a stale biscuit.
At dinner-time he was conducted into the large dining-room. There he found
many tables neatly spread with food that was good and wholesome, and it was
plain to be seen that the needs of all had been taken into consideration.
One special table had been assigned to the management and special workers,
and it was there that Edwin was offered the seat of honor. It is needless
to say that he greatly enjoyed the good, substantial meal, for he was very
hungry after all his exertions.
After dinner he continued his investigations, and as he went about from
place to place, he seemed to be living over again a part of the past. He
recognized the place in which the old lady had taught him the words, "Now I
lay me down to sleep," and as he remembered the comfort that he had
realized while repeating them, his heart throbbed with gratitude to the One
who knew and understood his childish desire to live right. At night he was
shown to a clean and comfortable bed, and there he fell asleep with the
past as a sacred dream.
In the morning Edwin arose feeling greatly refreshed and ready to enjoy
another day in the county poorhouse, but before noon he reentered the main
office and wrote a letter home to his beloved wife. It read:
"Dear Wife: Greeting in Jesus' name. I am sure that you will be anxious to
hear from me and of my eventful journey. To me this has been a wonderful
experience, and although it is true that everything is greatly changed,
there are certain associations with every place that bring a flood of
remembrances. The changes are principally in the people, however, and their
manner of living, for very few buildings have been added or torn away.
"From the window where I am sitting I can see the old well where we
children used to pump the cold water on our dry bread. I can also see the
path leading down to the large turnip-patch, and as I watch the waving
tops, I can imagine myself a child again eating the round white balls, dirt
and all. I have also taken a stroll about the yard and stood upon the very
spot where I used to stand when watching the queer actions of the insane
and listening to their horrible sayings. The large brick building for the
insane of which I have told you in the past is still as I remember it,
except that it is no longer needed for the insane and the gratings from the
doors and windows have all been removed. That part of the work is taken
care of by the State asylum, and this building is now used for the weak and
feeble-minded women. There is also another building where the men of this
class are cared for by special workers.
"When it became known that a former inmate of the infirmary was a Christian
and a minister of the gospel, it was considered a great honor to the
establishment, and I have been requested to take charge of the morning
service in the chapel next Sunday. I have already had the privilege of
explaining some verses to a few, and some who knew of my early
disadvantages confess with shame their own lack and wish for an experience
like mine.
"Do pray for me that I may be the greatest blessing possible while I am
here, and with the prayer that God will bless and keep you until we meet
again, I will close."
That Edwin's visit at the poorhouse was profitable, both to himself and to
others, it is needless to say. On Sunday he preached to a large audience,
and he was privileged also to visit and pray for many who were unable to
meet in the chapel. Thus, he who was once a poor waif in this institution
was enabled to be a help and a blessing to those who were still
unfortunate.
On Edwin's return home, he and his wife were in the cozy living-room until
a late hour talking over the events of the past few days. Before retiring
he reached for the Bible, and after he had read a chapter, they knelt
together in prayer. In earnest, fervent supplication and praise he opened
his heart to the One to whom he was so greatly indebted.
"O Lord," he prayed, "thou hast been so merciful to me all my days! Thy
hand of love and protection hath been over me wherever I have been. Thine
eye hath guided my feet past many pitfalls that I could not see. In my
weakness thou hast been my strength. In my ignorance thou hast been my
wisdom and teacher. When friends forsook me thou wast mindful of my needs.
When others misunderstood thou hast been my Comforter. To thee, O God, I
render thanks for all thy benefits, for thy saving and keeping grace that
hath reached even to one so unfortunate as I. And now, O Lord, grant that
all the remainder of my days, be they few or many, may be spent for thee
and for others who have not yet learned to love thee and to know of thy
great goodness. To thee we commit ourselves for the night and place our
hands in thine for future service, knowing that when our work on earth is
ended, thou wilt gather us home to live among the faithful forever. Amen."
There is little else to say of Edwin's life except that his determination
is still on the increase to help men and women to understand their need of
a Savior and to instruct them in the ways of the Lord. As we draw the
curtain over the life of the unfortunate poorhouse waif, we should not
rejoice alone because he has been able to rise above his difficulties but
also because his divine Teacher will instruct all who will be taught.
"For this cause I bow my knees unto the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, of
whom the whole family in heaven and earth is named, that he would grant
you, according to the riches of his glory, to be strengthened with might by
the Spirit in the inner man; that Christ may dwell in your hearts by faith;
that ye, being rooted and grounded in love, may be able to comprehend with
all saints what is the breadth, and length, and depth, and height, and to
know the love of Christ, which passeth knowledge, that ye might be filled
with all the fulness of God. Now unto him that is able to do exceeding
abundantly above all that we ask or think, according to the power that
worketh in us, unto him be glory in the church by Christ Jesus throughout
all ages, world without end. Amen."