CALLIE'S WONDERFUL STORY.
One day while I was visiting Mr. and Mrs. Helms, Sr., in Santa Clara,
good friends of the cause, the latter said:
"Sister Roberts, have you ever met Callie----?"
"No, Sister Helms," I answered, "but I have heard of her. She was
often, before my missionary work there, an inmate of the county jail,
Branch 3, and gave much trouble when a prisoner."
"I want to let you know she is wonderfully converted and one of our
most remarkable missionaries. Try and take time to call on her. She
works in the R---- boarding-house and will be glad to see you, for she
knows of you quite well. Ask her to tell you her story. You never heard
anything equal to it; furthermore, you never have, I doubt ever will,
meet any other like her. She is _a living marvel of God's power to save
to the uttermost_."
The following afternoon, leaving kind-hearted Lucy (without offense to
the matron of the home) to administer to the comforts of the inmates, I
went to the place designated. Soon there came into my presence a
smiling, healthy-looking woman about forty years of age, who told me
that she was the person for whom I had inquired. No sooner did I
mention my name than she threw her arms about me exclaiming, "God love
you, Mother Roberts! God love you! It's good for sore eyes to see
you"--and she rattled on. When I told her the nature of my errand, she
replied that she would come to the home that evening and would then
relate the story of her life and wonderful conversion. She was on hand
at the appointed time, and soon Lucy and I were listening to what I
will now relate.
"I first saw the light of day in the slums of St. Louis, Mo. I never
knew, nor did any one ever tell me, who my father and mother were. All
I know about those days and up to my fourteenth year is that one or
another of the women of that neighborhood fed, clothed, and sheltered
me. I had no schooling; didn't know how to read or write till a few
years ago. I never heard much besides bad language, seldom saw anything
but drinking, gambling, and so forth; never saw the inside of a church
and seldom saw the outside, 'cause I wasn't out of my own neighborhood
very much. It was too much like a fish being out of water. Never heard
the name of God or Jesus Christ except when they were taken in vain,
and never troubled my head to find out who was God or who was Jesus
Christ.
"Before I was fifteen years old, I married a gambler. He was a
fine-looking fellow, considerably older than me, and sometimes had a
pile of money.
"Yes, he gave me what I asked for. Sometimes I spent quite a bit on
dress and treating my friends, 'cause there ain't a stingy bone in my
body. I've no use for stingy folk, have you?
"Tom wasn't a heavy drinker, but he used to 'hit the pipe.'"
"What is 'hit the pipe', Callie?" I inquired.
"Don't you know? Why, smoke opium. Also, he had the morphine habit, and
if anything, that's the worst one of the two, but, between you and me,
there's little or no choice. It wasn't long before I, too, commenced
taking morphine, and kept it up until two years ago. Look here!"
With that she stripped up the sleeves of her dress, and we were gazing
at arms which from the shoulder to wrist were one mass of tiny bluish
spots. I doubt if there was room to place a pin between them.
"Oh! Callie, what are they?"
"Shots--shots from the hypodermic needle that we used to inject the
morphine.
"Hurt? No, not much; besides, we get to be such slaves to it that we'd
gladly hurt our bodies for the sake of it. It's the most demoralizing,
hard-to-break habit on earth. But glory to God! I'm saved and
sanctified now, and I'll tell you how it came about.
"I suppose I'd been serving my fifteenth sentence, to say the least, in
Branch No. 3, and they'd put me down in the dungeon, as usual, as they
most always had to do for the first few drays, 'cause I wanted the drug
so bad (they give you some there, but it never was enough) that I used
to disturb everybody, and besides, was very troublesome. I'll never
forget the day when I tried to knock my brains out on the dark cement
floor, but couldn't; so I cried, 'O God! if there is a God, and some of
these missionary folk that come here say there is a God, and a Christ
what can save, _save me, save me, please save me_! I don't want to go
to hell! I've had hell enough! I don't want to go to hell!'
* * * * *
"There was a little quiet-looking old lady visiting the jail that day,
and she asked Matron Kincaid if she couldn't go down and try to help
that poor afflicted soul in the dungeon, and Mrs. Kincaid gave
permission.
"Mother Roberts, her very presence was soothing, and pretty soon she
put her arm around me and prayed. Oh, how she prayed to her God and
Savior to come, and come quickly, to help and save me through and
through! By and by she told me of Jesus who died for sinners. I
couldn't bear to part with her, but I had to let her go soon, she
promising to come back again. I was still suffering, but after hearing
her, and her being so kind to dirty, loathsome me, I made up my mind
I'd try to 'grin and bear' the misery if it took my very life.
"Next time she came, I was out of the dungeon, up on the next floor in
my cell. Say, Mother Roberts, you wouldn't have known me if you had
seen me then and as I look now. I didn't weigh ninety pounds. Now I
weigh close onto one hundred and seventy. Praise the Lord!
"I was always a mass of filth and rags whenever the cops [police] would
run me in.
"What did they arrest me for? Why for stealing of course. We'll swipe
anything to supply ourselves and our chums with 'dope' [morphine,
cocaine, opium, etc.]. That last time I'd been sentenced for three
months. When my time was up, my missionary friend called for me, and we
came down on the train to San Jose. She hired a hack at the depot;
wasn't she considerate? God bless her!
"When we reached this home, the matron [Sister Griffith] met me at the
door, and, said she, 'Welcome, dear child, welcome in the name of the
Lord.' Then she put her arm around me, and led me into this very room
we are sitting in now. I fell in love with her right on the spot. She
had a lovely face and the beautifullest white hair I ever saw.
"I asked her to please let me go to bed, and would she gave me a room
where I couldn't escape; also to please take away all my clothes, all
but the bedding and a nightdress. I told her I'd come there to fight it
out, that I'd been in hell on earth for years, _that for twenty-seven
years I'd been a 'dope' fiend_, and that I wanted all of them who knew
how to pray to pray for me, 'cause I knew there was a Christ and a God,
but I hadn't found him yet. She did as I asked, and after a while tried
to get me to eat, but I couldn't. Did you know the 'dope' fiends lose
their appetites for everything but the drug? Yes, they do. I often
wondered what kept us alive. It surely wasn't the food we ate.
"My, what a struggle I had! what a fight for the next three weeks! for
I was determined from the time my sentence expired, never, if it killed
me, to touch the poison again, and I was bound to keep my word. God
alone knows what I suffered. One morning a little before daylight (I'd
heard the clock strike one, two, three, somewhere) all of a sudden the
room was lit up with a strange soft light, and somebody was whispering
(or it seemed like whispering), 'Daughter, be of good cheer. Thou art
healed.' Oh but I felt beautiful, beautiful! and soon slept the
sweetest. Not an ache or pain. Just like a new-born baby. When I woke
up I could tell the girls were at breakfast. I took my stick and
knocked on the floor. Pretty soon Sister Griffith came up, and I told
her. She cried with me for very joy, and knelt by my bedside to thank
God for answer to prayer, then went down to tell the family. Glory,
glory be to God the Father, Son and Holy Spirit! I was saved and I knew
it--saved through and through.
[Illustration: SCENE IN A MORPHINE DEN]
"From that on I gained rapidly, enjoyed my meals, and pretty soon was
able to go down-stairs. No fear any more. I've never wanted the drug
from that day to this, and I'm trying by the grace of God to help other
poor souls like afflicted. Say, Mother Roberts, when you go to San
Francisco again, will you let me go with you? I want to surprise the
folk at the jail and in the morphine dens; besides, I'll show you a
place you never have seen or heard tell of, where these poor souls
live--a place condemned by the authorities, but not torn down yet."
I told her that, God willing, I should be very glad to have her
accompany me. Then she took out of her pocket a letter, saying, as she
did so, "I wrote this to some one you know." (Here she described one of
the poor prisoners.) "You can take it up to your room and read it if
you like, and mail it for me tomorrow, please."
Soon we joined the rest of the family in their evening devotions, and
Callie went back to her place.
I read and reread that wonderful letter before retiring, and as soon as
convenient the next morning I telephoned to Callie to ask whether I
might copy it before mailing it. She gladly gave me permission, and now
I give you the letter almost word for word:
San Jose, Cal. Aug. 18, 1903.
Dear Nan:
No doubt you will be somewhat surprised to receive this from me, but it
is surprising--and wonderful the way God has of lifting us up out of
sin. Now what has been done for me will be done for you if you will
only let him have his way with you. Surely "the way of the transgressor
is hard," and the devil is a poor pay-master. I know you are so tired
of that life that you will be willing to say, "O Lord, anything but
this; 'better a dry crust of bread with quietness than a house full of
sacrifice, with strife.'" The truth is a bitter pill, and many have
choked to death on it, but while "the mourners go about the streets,"
the truth goes on just the same. Now my greatest sacrifice was -- --.
With him the house was full of strife, for I had to produce for it all,
and no peace in the end; so to get away from the whole thing and keep
out of San Quentin [one of the State prisons] I had to not only die to
him, but myself. So now, glory to God! I am sanctified and my sins and
dead yesterdays are under the blood, and Just as the branch is to the
vine, I am joined to Christ and I know he is mine.
Nan, as I look back to Mrs. J----'s time [a former jail matron] and the
hell we had, trying to live through, and of poor Minnie B---- and
Minnie E----, who have gone out in the darkness--[Minnie B---- was
dead, Minnie E---- dying, when the trusty rushed into the room where
the matron, Mrs. J----, was engaged in a game of cards, and begged her
to come quickly, to which she replied, "Let her die; 'tis a pity a few
more of you don't go the same way" and then coolly continued the game
she was playing.] If we had continued along on that plane, such would
have been our fate also; but he, our Lord, is so patient and
long-suffering that the moment we are willing to give up and let him
have his way with us, then the work begins for our good. Now, Nan, I am
only too glad to be able to help you in any way I can.
I owe the H---- of T---- $10. I stole $40 for "dope" from them while in
the "hypo" state. I have now paid back $30, and when your time is up, I
will be able to pay your fare down here, and your board until you can
see and know for yourself what real liberty there is in Christ.
Everything did not go just as I liked at first; but, as you know, a
good thing is not easily gotten, and if you will only try half as hard
for liberty in Christ as you do for those you love, it will not be long
ere you are out and out for Christ, and your dead yesterdays will be as
though they never had been, and if you will let me be a mother to you,
I would divide my last drop of blood to save your soul.
O God! bless my erring sisters, "who love not wisely, but too well,
bearing their sorrows alone in silence with an anguish none can tell."
Now, dear, weigh this well, and "choose this day which you will
serve,'" God or mammon. T am not the only "hypo" fiend that the Lord
sees fit to take out of hell; so be of good cheer, for he has said, "I
will never leave thee nor forsake thee."
Start in with a fervent prayer, saying, "Create in me a clean heart, O
God, and renew a right spirit within me." Just as soon as you are
willing to take your Savior for your satisfying portion every door of
hope will be open to you with outstretched arms. My strength is in God
and I want you to feel some of it. I do not know the extent of it.
Poor M--! I feel sorry for her. Mrs. Roberts called on me. She is O K,
and her heart is in her work. Dear child of God, she is sowing seeds of
kindness all along her line. May God bless her! The little lady who is
with her [Lucy] speaks highly of you. Nan, and we all see the Lord in
you if you will only give up all to him. Tell Mrs. ---- I still have
faith for her [the dignified-looking white-haired prisoner already
spoken of], for God is still looking around for the impossible things,
to move mountains. Love to K--, G--, Mrs. S--, Mollie R--, and all the
rest of the girls.
Now, Nan, we have seen the tough side of life together, so come on out
and up, and say, "With the help of God I will be a woman." That is not
your element by right, Nan, so the sooner you seek, the sooner you will
find.
Now, good-by, and may God and his holy angels guide and protect you,
and may your whole spirit, soul, and body be preserved blameless until
the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ.
Give my love to all the girls. I pray for you all every day.
Callie ----
P.S.--To Mrs. Captain Kincaid. I know you will be happy to know I am
still true to God. It pays in the end for if we sow to the flesh, we
reap corruption, and if to the Spirit, everlasting life. I am a Bible
student, and as soon as the Lord can trust me with the seal of the Holy
Spirit, I am to preach the gospel of Jesus Christ, the power of God
unto salvation Glory, glory, glory for liberty in him!...
I still have your present in mind. It is forthcoming in the near
future.
Respectfully yours,
Callie ----.
The only alterations I made in this remarkable letter were in some real
mines, the spelling, capitalization, and punctuation. Otherwise it is
her language, word for word.
Oh! bless the dear Lord forever! What an example of
"Whilst the lamp holds out to burn,
The vilest sinner may return"!
Later we paid our proposed visit to San Francisco. Our experience on
that occasion will be found in the next chapter.