The banqueting hall of Hotel Northland was crowded to its limit. There
were noted men and women from all walks of life. There were many from
humble homes. There were those whose beautiful dresses showed that money
meant little to them; there were others to whom the price of the banquet
ticket had meant sacrifice. It was a merry company that awaited the coming
of the guests of the evening.
Cheer after cheer arose when the tall, fine-looking young man took his
seat near the center of the guest's table. He was the newly elected mayor
of the city--the youngest mayor they had ever had. He had risen from the
ranks and many of the humbler folk knew him well as a boy. Oh, how proud
they were of him!
Then again the cheers sounded as an old white-haired lady entered and was
placed at the left of the mayor. She it was who had given them their
college, their library, their playground. For years and years she had been
living away from the town, but still she loved them all and gave of her
wealth to make them happy. Her friends were many in the great banqueting
hall.
The supper was served and the tables cleared and then the mayor rose to
speak. He told of his boyhood, of his struggles at school and college, of
his eagerness to enter the political field, of his happiness at his recent
election.
"I believe that every man is master of his own fate. I believe in being a
self-made man and I mean during these next years when I am to serve you to
make it possible for every boy to push his way to a career. One can make
himself what he will if only he has grit and courage. I am here to serve
you all," he said.
Not once during the address had the eyes of the little, white-haired lady
been taken from the speaker. She seemed studying him rather than his
address. So intent was she that she hardly heard the toastmaster
introducing her as the friend whom all delighted to honor. Dreamily she
arose and said,
"Years and years ago, in this very town there lived a teacher who had ten
bright, happy girls in a club. For four years they had played and worked
together and they loved each other dearly. Then the husband of the teacher
was taken ill and it became necessary for the teacher to go to another
continent to live.
"How hard it was for the girls to have her go! But it was harder still for
her, for she had wanted to help them through to womanhood. She had tried
to help them to see the best but often she had felt that her efforts were
all too small. The day came nearer for her to leave and she had asked the
girls to spend the last evening with her in her home.
"And they came, each bringing in their hands a little letter, sealed
tightly. They were steamer letters for their teacher and they had been
written because they had heard her say that she wished she could take with
her some idea as to what the girls wanted to be when they had grown, so
that she might be thinking of their plans, even though she could not be
there to help with them. One by one they laid them on the table till there
were ten little letters--heart-to-heart letters to their dear friend.
"Five days later, away out in mid-ocean, the teacher opened the letters
and read them over and over to herself. How much they told of the girls!
"Jennie wanted to be a great singer; she wanted to go to New York and
study and then go into Grand Opera.
"Katherine wanted to be a Kindergarten teacher. Ah! she had found that
because of helping in the church.
"Mary wanted to be a lawyer--a criminal lawyer. Perhaps that desire had
grown in their debating club.
"Louise wanted to be a nurse. What a dear faithful girl she had been in
helping with the bandages after the great fire in the city!
"So one by one she read their letters and her heart was filled with
gratitude that to her it had been given to mold in a little way their
lives."
Then turning to the mayor of the city, the little white-haired lady said,
"Sir, the contents of one of those letters will be of interest to you more
than to the rest. I was the teacher of those girls, so I can give you the
exact wording of the last letter that I read,
"'Dear friend: You have asked us to give you our dearest wish. I have many
wishes for the future but the wish that I want most of all is to be a fine
woman and some day to be a real mother, the kind you have so often told us
about.'
"The girl who wrote that letter, sir, became your mother. Fourteen years
before you were born, your character was being formed, your ideals were
being molded, your future was being safeguarded. I congratulate you, sir,
on being elected to the office of mayor; but I congratulate you more for
being the child of my little girl of the long ago who at sixteen could
write, 'I want most of all to be a fine, noble woman and some day to be a
real mother.' To her you owe much. Inspire the girls of the town if you
plan for great men. A self-made man needs a real mother to build the
foundations of his character. There is no other way."
Then the speaker sat down and there was silence in the banqueting hall.