A VISIT TO SACRAMENTO--THE OUTCOME.
At the time of the preceding experience I was the organist of Redding's
Baptist church and also superintendent of its Sunday-school. Aside from
this, there were my household duties--duties never to be neglected, as
some erroneously think, because of drinking in the deep things of God.
Also, there were now many outside calls to rescue or to warn poor,
foolish boys and girls. The heart-aches now commenced in real earnest;
for too many refused to heed, and in many cases the home environments
were of such a nature as to prohibit even an ordinary moral tone, the
unfortunate offspring being the victims of both pre-natal and
post-natal conditions.
Business now demanded my husband's absence from home for some time.
Taking advantage of the opportunity thus afforded, I, with my son, a
youth aged fifteen, made a necessary visit to Sacramento. Here, in the
First Baptist church, I taught a class of young men in their teens.
Soon after my coming, a revival in the First M. E. church, which I
constantly attended, brought me great blessing from the Lord. This
revival was followed by a similar one at the First Baptist church.
In order to insure the success of the latter meeting Rev. A. B. Banks,
the pastor, now deceased, a most eloquent and lovable man, whom we
delighted in calling "Father" Banks, announced the necessity of
distributing handbills and asked for volunteers to place one in every
home in the districts in which they lived, and also, wherever possible,
to give a verbal invitation. It so happened that the district in which
my son and I lodged contained the resorts of the wandering girls. Some
of these places were less than two blocks away.
NO ONE VOLUNTEERED FOR THIS LOCALITY.
There was a prolonged pause, a painful pause. I felt as though every
eye were upon me, and I experienced a sharp struggle; but hallelujah!
the next moment the Lord had the victory--and my hand went up. Father
Banks fervently said, "God bless you for this, my little sister! and he
will."
You may be sure I did not want to go alone. I invited several to keep
me company; I prayed the greater part of that Sunday night; I visited
several Christians on Monday morning, stating to them that I had never
been in such a quarter, and was timid. "They all with one accord began
to make excuse." Luke 14:18.
Oh, how I prayed for grace and strength! As I traversed that district,
believe me, I felt almost the visible presence of angels, and was soon
giving God's message of tender love to inmate after inmate of those
awful dens.
How did they accept, you ask? Many with tears coursing down their
cheeks. Very few but manifested some feeling. Scarcely any, however,
promised to come out to the revival services. Nearly all declared that
they did not believe they would receive kind treatment if they did
come, and none of them wanted to be looked upon or treated as an
outcast. One girl allowed me to come in and pray for her. Later on she
was most wonderfully saved and sanctified in the rescue home of which I
shall now speak.
Yes, a rescue home for girls was about to be opened and established in
answer to the prayers of many, especially some of the dear Christian
workers of the "Peniel" Mission situated on K. near Fourth Street. Some
of these I had become acquainted with since the revival meetings
commenced. I learned that Mrs. Glide, a consecrated lady of much means,
had guaranteed the payment of a year's rent on a ten-roomed cottage on
Second and O. Streets.
Desirous of seeing this home for myself and of assisting, if requisite,
I soon wended my way to the locality named.
The building was old and rather dilapidated, and as yet it contained
but one piece of furniture, a cheap washstand bureau. Some of the young
men were putting new panes of glass into the windows, others were
papering the walls with odds and ends, which had been donated. Sister
Jennie Cloninger was busy scraping an old bathtub with a piece of
glass, preparatory to painting it, and Sister Eva Shearer had her dress
tucked up whilst mopping one of the floors. Every one was busy and
happy in the Lord's service.
"Sister Shearer dear, what can I do to help this blessed work?" I
inquired.
"Sister Roberts, that washstand is all the furniture we have. Please go
in the name of Jesus and ask for donations," she replied.
Prayerfully I started on my errand, and soon had many promises from
hotel proprietors and others.
Shortly after this my son, having an ambition to see more of the world,
grew restless. All effort on my part failed to keep him near me. I
simply commended him to the One who has promised that if we are
faithful "our righteousness shall be for our children," and comforted
myself with this promise as I sorrowfully bade him farewell and
returned to my lonely lodgings. Did I say lonely? I made a mistake. To
be sure, I greatly missed my boy, but he was in our Father's keeping,
and I was dwelling in "the secret of his presence" who doeth all things
well.
Soon afterward I returned to my home in Redding, taking the journey as
a singing evangelist with Mr. and Mrs. C. E. Thurston, an elderly
couple then in undenominational gospel-wagon work. It was on this trip
that, in answer to repeated prayer, I acquired my first autoharp, which
I shall frequently mention in connection with my work. "How did I come
by it?" I will tell you in the next chapter.