The better part : a story of love and service

Chapter I. Good Tidings

Within was a beautiful home; without, the wind stirred the leaves of the magolia trees and the tiny leaves of the Virginia creeper played hide and seek around the edges of the upper windows. The mocking-bird sang sweetly all unheard by those within, for their ears were filled with a sweeter, dearer sound — the cry of a new-born babe.

The heart of Dr. Preston overflowed with love and gratitude, when the nurse said, “A boy, though a weakly little thing,” and he tenderly kissed the mother, whose eyes shown with love and gratitude that her wish had been granted, and a son had been given to her, to train and educate to carry on the work of the Master, in whose cause she had always been deeply interested. Other children had come into that home — grown up and gone to homes of their own. Many years had passed since little feet had pattered through the quiet rooms of that grand old southern home, and now their cup of joy was full to the brim, as they fondly gazed on the child of their old age. Dr. Preston had grown gray in the service of his fellow-men, and, although he was several years older than his wife, in her hair silver threads were appearing among the gold.

As they looked at the little one, they were filled with hope for his future; and as he grew from babyhood to early manhood they gave him much loving care, for he was always a frail child. Often his life was despaired of, and only the skill of his father, and the loving care of his mother kept him from passing to that bourne from which no traveler returns.

He entered school at an early age to begin preparation for his life work — that of winning souls to Christ. He was attentive and studious during the many years of his school life and at last the time came when he was to graduate from the Seminary and return home for a short visit before entering his chosen profession — the ministry. His mother went about giving a loving touch to everything about the house, for was not Walter coming today? His father, now retired from the practice of medicine, waited eagerly for the time when he should drive to the station to meet his long absent son.

What a joyful moment it was in that home when, as an ordained minister of the gospel, their best loved son gave thanks at the table and led in family worship ; and how they enjoyed the long drives around the home town, pointing out to Walter the many changes that had taken place during his absence. They knew he must soon leave them again and go about the “King’s Business.’’ He had been promised a call from a western state.

One day he went to his favorite fishing place on a rippling brook, where as a boy he had spent many happy hours swimming and catching sun perch. Forgetting for a time his high calling, he took off his shoes, waded out to a large rock in the middle of the stream and cast out his line. Such good luck attended him that time passed rapidly and he was intent only on baiting his hook for more fish.

The sun shone hot on the water, but a large straw hat protected his face, although his bare feet on the rock were becoming a beautiful pink. The sound of a coming carriage reached his ears, and, looking up, he saw his father coming toward him holding in his hand a yellow envelope, which instantly called to his mind that he was a fisher of men. On opening the envelope, he found it to contain a telegram from a western man, asking him to come at once and take charge of a splendid little church in Illinois, and this was what brought his father out in the heat and dust to find him.

Upon arising the next morning, our young minister found that his feet were blistered, but, being compelled to go to his charge, he procured a pair of carpet slippers and packed his shoes in his grip, remembering, as he bade his father good-bye at the station, that “Blessed are the feet of them that bring good tidings of great joy.”

A very weary and dust covered young man alighted when the train rolled into the station. His youthful, almost feminine appearance astonished Deacon Algood, who was waiting to welcome him and take him to his own home, where his good wife was preparing a meal fit for a king for the new minister.

After introducing himself as Walter Preston, and remarking that he was pleased to receive the call as their minister, he explained the necessity for his wearing carpet slippers. The good deacon was all sympathy, and hurried home, where, after a motherly welcome from Mrs. Algood, he removed his slippers, bathing his feet in cool water, while Mrs. Algood insisted on applying such simple remedies as she had at hand — sweet cream and baking soda.

After partaking of the excellent supper which Mrs. Algood had prepared, the deacon and his wife conversed with the young minister of the church and its needs, and were delighted that he so understood them. They offered him a home with them, which he gladly accepted.

Being very tired, he retired early, and while he was sleeping and dreaming of his new charge, the deacon and his wife talked until far into the night, wondering how the young minister would take with the congregation. In appearance he was a mere boy, and his light hair, blue eyes and fair complexion made him appear several years younger than he was in reality — he being but twenty-two years of age. However, the president of the Bible College had recommended him as a man of winning personality and a fine speaker, so the call had been extended. The good deacon and his wife were reminded of the lateness of the hour by the hall clock striking the midnight hour. The deacon read a chapter from the Bible and offered a prayer asking the Heavenly Father to help them to do all in their power to make the church all that it should be, and that the new minister might do a great work among them.

Sunday morning dawned one of the fairest of days, and very fair indeed it seemed to Walter Preston, as, in company with Deacon Algood, he went to the church to meet the people who came in crowds to worship and hear the new minister’s first sermon. Some of them could not hide their disappointment when they were introduced to a “mere boy,” and the faces of the elders, always solemn, grew more so.

His feet were yet very tender and his shoes uncomfortably snug, but Walter Preston had a smile and a bright, cheery word for all as he took his place in the pulpit, facing the large and expectant congregation. After the opening prayer, he arose to read his text. The fact that all eyes were centered on him, as well as the pain his feet were giving him, caused him to be seized with fear, and trembling greatly, he opened his Bible and read, “Blistered are the feet of them who bring good tidings.” The deacon and his wife groaned in spirit for they were the only ones who knew of his temporary affliction. Several young people in the back of the church began to giggle, but when a pretty browneyed girl quickly frowned and plainly showed her disapproval, they instantly became quiet and listened with growing attention to the eloquent sermon which followed the slight mistake of the text. The theme of brotherly love found a resting-place in their hearts, and such handshaking and sweet fellowship followed the close of the service. All were loud in their praise of the sermon, and went away feeling a desire to make the stay of Walter Preston among them both pleasant and profitable.

No one was more interested in the work of the church than pretty brown eyed Anna Chester. Her singing in the choir was not only helpful, but pleasing to the young pastor, who no doubt felt grateful to her for quieting the mirth of the young people, and overlooking the mistake in the reading of the scripture taken for his text in his first sermon. She was beloved bv all in the village, and it did not surprise those who had known and loved her from babyhood to find that the minister was very much in love with her before a year had passed. At the sewing society, where the latest news was dulv discussed, it was said that these two young people were admirably suited to each other. Sister Algood said “that Anna was by nature intended for a preacher’s wife,’’ and when her aunt, who was present, told them that Anna was already “promised,” there was general rejoicing, and each felt proud that one of their girls had been chosen for a wife by the splendid young minister, whom they had all learned to love. Life just then was very fair and promising to the young couple. Her parents were well pleased, and his own gladly consented to his early marriage.

Rev. Preston spent his first vacation visiting friends in Kansas. While there, he preached twice, and was so well liked by the congregation that they thought he would be the one to lead them to higher things and help build the new church, for which they were planning, so they decided to extend a call to him.

As it was an advance in salary and a splendid field for a young man, he accepted the call, but great was the disappointment of the congregation at Bloomton when they learned they must give him up.

He could not be persuaded to stay, so they gave him a farewell reception, presenting him with a gold watch, and bade him Godspeed, and all prayed earnestly for his success in his new field.

Walter Preston’s heart was saddened by the thought of leaving, for he did not realize how much they cared for him and he for them until he was ready to bid them good-by. But the thought that Anna Chester was willing to go with him and share his work comforted him. It was decided that he should return at Christmas time for his bride, so bidding farewell to all, he departed for his new field.

Anna, impressed with the responsibility of becoming a minister’s wife, began to prepare her household linen, and to study her music more diligently. It was a real joy to attend the sewing society, for the ladies were making a nice quilt for Anna, and all their names were to be placed on it.

Chapter II. Building A Church

There were no more Christ-like people anywhere than those who comprised the congregation found at Ashton, when Rev. Walter Preston took charge. Their hearts overflowed with love for one another. They welcomed the new pastor as their brother and leader, and received the news of his coming marriage with gladness, for they wished him to remain with them, and felt that he would be more apt to do so if he were married, and would be more successful in the work.

Though meeting in a hall, great crowds came to hear the ever new story of Christ and His love, as told by the new minister. Rev. Preston was invited to make his home with Elder Peyton, and he was pleased to do so until a time when he should bring his bride and go to a home of his own. They treated him as their own son, and ever afterwards he referred to them as his second father and mother. He spent much time getting acquainted with the people outside, as well as within the church, and was well liked by all. When he returned with his bride at Christmas time, they found a cordial welcome awaiting them, also a number of useful and beautiful gifts. The good will and kindness of all recalled to his mind the time when the wise men came worshipping and bringing their gifts to the Babe in Bethlehem, who came +o bring “Peace on earth, good will to men.”

Elder Peyton and his wife begged the minister to continue to make his home with them (for they were well pleased with his wife) so the young couple lived there for some time, and a very happy family it was.

Surely no man ever undertook the building of a church under better conditions than did Rev. Walter Preston, and no one ever worked and preached more earnestly than he. The love and kindness of his people gave him strength to labor almost night and day.

When funds ran low, he lectured in other towns, and gave the proceeds to the building fund. He gave much of his salary to the church, and with his own hands helped to lift the heavy timbers in place, with a strength not his own. His weight did not exceed 130 pounds, and it was a source of great regret to him that he was not large and strong, that he might have more strength to use in the Master’s work. Much of the work on the new church was being done free by stone masons and carpenters — some of whom were not members of the church, but were glad to assist. Oftentimes they were forced to quit work for lack of material, and many sacrifices were made and much self-denial practiced; but they counted it all joy, so great was their love for Christ and the unsaved in their midst. It was truthfully said of them that they found it “More blessed to give than to receive,” excepting when some gift was received for the new church.

Mrs. Preston was not idle all this time. She was visiting the sick, and using her beautiful, well trained soprano voice in singing sweet songs at every service, endearing herself to the people; and her presence was ever an inspiration to her husband.

It was not long until such faithful work by pastor and congregation was rewarded, and donations came from unexpected sources.

The hall where services were held was only one block from the new church site, and they saw each Lord’s day when they came to worship, the walls of the church rising higher and higher. Finally a well-built, handsome church stood completed and ready for use, to be dedicated to the work of Christ.

As they looked upon the new church, all their trials and troubles faded away, and they were filled with a feeling of thankfulness that God had so prospered them in their undertaking. Judge Latham, one of the elders, and one of the most helpful through all the past days, presented them with a silver communion service, for use in the new church. A fine organ was sent by an unknown friend. A happier people could not be found than those assembled the day of the dedication. A debt of one thousand dollars still remained to be paid, but they were sure that it would be no burden to them. They had Christ for their leader, and were ready to follow where He might lead.

Not long after the church was finished and plans for a great meeting were maturing, a mantle of sorrow overspread the entire congregation, caused by the sickening of the aged parents of their beloved pastor. On their behalf the church in the old home town extended him a call to become then minister. His father and mother begged him to return, for they wished him to be near them during the short time they knew was theirs on earth. Rev. Preston accepted the call, and to soften the sorrow of his people in Ashton, he promised that some time in the future he would return to serve them and the church he loved so well.

Chapter III. Charity Templeton

The voice singing was that of a noted tenor soloist, and leader of song in the revival meetings held in the new church lately built by the Christian people of Ashton. As the song ended, the earnest evangelist said, “Is there not one more who will come now and let Christ be his Shepherd, ‘For they that follow Me shall never perish, and no one shall pluck them out of my hand,’ ” saith the Lord Jesus.

A pale, sweet-faced girl came forward. He took her hand, saying, “God will bless you for taking this step,” as he took her confession. She was very fair. Her head was crowned with a mass of beautiful golden-brown hair, and her eyes were blue-gray.

Such was Charity Templeton, as we see her for the first time. Her mother died when she was fourteen years old, leaving to her care a baby brother. The mother’s last words to Charity were, “Take care of Arthur and be a good girl.”

Never was there a better daughter to her grief stricken father. She gave up school and assumed all care of Baby Arthur and the household. Her father was not very strong, for he suffered from the effects of a wound received during the Civil War. He had served three years as captain of a company of splendid men, most of whom had been friends of his boyhood. His health finally became so poor that he was obliged to retire from business, leaving his affairs in the hands of his trusted partner, who, owing to the extravagant ways of his wife, who was very fond of society, and, in order that she might entertain her wealthy friends in her home, he embezzled most of the money that came in, and, by making false entries, everything appeared all right. Captain Templeton never thought of questioning his honesty, but a friend who knew of their extravagant mode of living, persuaded him to investigate. The guilty man threw himself at the Captain’s feet, and begged for mercy, saving that if nothing was said about the affair, he would spend the balance of his da s to repay him.

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Captain Templeton granted the privilege, and the facts were not told. Whether from a sense of guilt, or from overwork in trying to keep up the expenses of his family, the unfortunate man was stricken with a fever and lived only a few days.

The loss of his money was a great blow to Captain Templeton, for he knew he must soon leave Charity and Arthur alone in the world, with barely enough to keep them and educate Arthur. Charity tried to cheer him, saying she could do all the housework, and manage things so they would never come to want, until Arthur’s education was finished, and he would be able to take charge. It was not long until her father’s sudden death left Charity to care for herself and Arthur as best she could. Charity missed her father greatly, but looked to her Heavenly Father for comfort and guidance. Her father left a fine library, and all her spare time was devoted to study, that she might be of more help to Arthur, who was now in school. She possessed a remarkable talent for drawing which she cultivated, and was able to help pay expenses by teaching a class in drawing and painting. She loved the church, and the people, and was never so happy as when she was helping in some church work. No c*all for service was ever refused by her, whether it was to toil over a hot stove preparing a dinner to help pay the pastor’s salary, or teach the dear, but restless, little ones in the Sunday School.

Chapter IV. Sister Trigsby

The strains of “Turkey in the Straw” on a violin was accompanied by the tones of a wheezy old organ. Torches lighted up the platform of the new park of Ashton. A dance ■was being given in honor of the opening of the park, which lasted far into the “wee small hours.”

Among those who never seemed to tire, and were seen in every set, was Sister Macum, whose snapping black eyes gave almost as much light as the dim torches temporarily placed among the trees around the platform.

The name “Sister” was the only one given her. She was the baby and only girl in the home of widow Macum. When she was just learning to 'walk and talk, such commands from mother as “Give Sister your top,” or “Give her those marbles this minute,” or “Don’t you dare to cross Sister,” caused the neighbors to take up the name “Sister.” She always had her way in everything. While her mother worked, she slept the day following the dance at the park, and was ready when evening came, to attend a party given in honor of a friend’s birthday. While she was arranging her hair, her brother came in from his work as an apprentice at the foundry. He remonstrated with her, saying, “It does look like you would stop dancing long enough to sleep and eat.” “I would rather dance than eat any old time,” she said, and, seeing her best beau, George Trigsby, coming in at the gate, she grabbed her pink ice wool fascinator and, calling, “Don’t come in, we will be late,” she vanished, leaving the boys and her mother to their never ending argument concerning her approaching marriage to young Trigsby. “You know she will never get along with him,” her eldest brother said, to which his mother replied, “Oh, well, she wants him, and I will not object.”

In due time, young Trigsby became the husband of Sister Macum. As she had never done any housework, and the thought of it was displeasing to her, they made their home with her mother. After two years of great unhappiness for both, they drifted apart and George Trigsby found work in another city, where he was taken seriously ill. He grew worse rapidly, but in his conscious moments, he begged them to send for his wife. The word was sent at once, but she refused to come. When told by the physician that the end was near, he asked them again to send for his wife, saying that he wished to see her once more before he died. So unforgiving was her nature that she again refused to go to her husband. He died alone, save for the strangers who so kindly cared for him, and gave him a Christian burial.

Not long after young Trigby’s death, the widow Macum inherited a considerable amount of money, and her days of hard work ended. She found herself possessed of a great deal of spare time, and concluded to return to the church. After much persuasion, Sister Trigsby went with her mother. The congregation were glad to receive the mother back again, and Sister Trigsby decided that she would unite with the church. When she learned that the Church Board wished to borrow some money, she persuaded her mother to loan them the amount at good interest, the principal to be paid at no definite date.

Socially, they arose in the eyes of the official board, who did not know of Sister Trigsby’s burning desire to rule. People accepted her mother’s story that she married a drunkard and at his death decided to devote the remainder of her life to church work. They felt sorry for her, and, learning that she knew something of music, they invited her to play the organ. She insisted that the choir meet at her home for practice, which they did. She next took charge of the affairs of the young people, including their courtships. If there was to be a social, she had it held at her home, and those who knew the family said that the best cakes were set aside, and they had cake on the table for several days after.

Before Sister Trigsby united with the church, the Junior Endeavor Society had adopted an orphan in India, for whose education they agreed to pay a stated sum each year. The president of the society, Miss Ethel Bellew, wished he orphan to be given the name of the pastor’s wife, but Sister Trigsby, who wanted to rule in all things, managed to have the little orphan given her name.

About this time, Bro. Smith was called as a missionary to Cuba, leaving the Ashton church without a pastor. Bro. Preston’s parents had died, and he wished to come back to his former charge. All the old members were greatly rejoiced at the thought of having him with them, and gladly welcomed him back.

When Bro. Preston returned, after an absence of several years, he found great changes had taken place in the congregation. Some had died, some had moved away, the children had grown up — but the most disappointing thing of all was that the mortgage still hung over the church. He decided that the mortgage must be lifted. Under his leadership, they renewed their efforts to clear the church of debt.

Chapter V. The Poor Widow

There was great joy in the hearts of the members of the Sunshine Circle when their part of the money to pay off the mortgage was safely deposited in the First National Bank of Ashton. A nice little sum yet remained in the treasury, and Sister Trigsby suggested that a silkaline comfort be made and presented to Mrs. Preston, with the compliments of the Sunshine Circle, as a nice way to end their year’s work. The ladies met at the home of Sister Trigsby and made the comfort. Sister Trigsby sent it by a special messenger to Mrs. Preston, with a card bearing her name.

A few days after this, Charity called on her dear friend, Mrs. Hulings, and found her very sad. Her next door neighbor had been over and told her that Mrs. Wilson, a poor widow who worked for her, had sent word that her five months old baby had pneumonia, and the doctor had forbidden her to do any more washing for a time, as the steam was not good for the child. She depended on what she earned at the tub to support herself and three children, the oldest being but eight years of age. Her husband had been killed less than a year before in a western town, while defending an orphan boy, who was being abused by a drunken man. She was left almost penniless, among strangers, a short time before the birth of the baby. She was a brave little woman, and a good mother; she returned to Ashton, where she owned a small two room house, and resolved to keep her children with her.

As the two friends talked of the widow’s sad condition, they wondered if she had bed clothing sufficient to keep them warm. Charity said, “I think our ladies of the Circle would be glad to make and give her some warm comforts.” “How kind of you to think of it, I am sure they would,” said Mrs. Hulings. “Didn’t you see the one they gave to Mrs. Preston? It certainly was a beauty.” Charity could have no peace of mind until she called on the President of the Circle, and related the sad story of Mrs. Wilson. The President thought it the very thing to do, and said that at their next meeting she would suggest that the proceeds of their last social should be given to the widow as a thank offering. It was near that time of the year, and it would be a nice way to end the most prosperous year in the history of the Sunshine Circle. Charity went home with a glad heart, thinking what a pleasant surprise it would be for Mrs. Wilson.

On her way to town a few days later, she met Sister Trigsby and told her of the proposed plan to help Mrs. Wilson, thinking she would be only too glad to assist in the good work. Charity was greatly astonished when Sister Trigsby said, with a look of displeasure on her face, “It won’t do at all.” “Why,” said Charity, “it is the very thing we should be interested in — to help the widows and orphans, and she certainly needs help just now.” Sister Trigsby tightened her lips — a way she had when someone suggested something which did not happen to meet with her approval. “Well, it will not do at all, it might make Mrs. Briggs angry,” and without another word she passed on, leaving Charity to wonder why an act of kindness should offend the only living relative of Mrs. Wilson’s husband. Mrs. Briggs was his sister, and did all she could to lighten the burden of care which had so suddenly fallen on the young mother. Charity had met her at the Circle, and liked her pleasant ways, and had been told what great friends she and Sister Trigsby had been for many years. Since her brother’s tragic death, Mrs. Briggs had not attended church or the Circle meetings. This fact, together with the thought that surely a gift of money in the Master’s name should not offend her, caused Charity to call on Mrs. Briggs and tell her of the good intentions of the women. She found Mrs. Briggs sewing on a dress for her oldest daughter, which made it easy to talk to her of her brother’s family. In a nice way, Charity told her of the plan of the Circle to help them through the baby’s illness.

Mrs. Briggs burst into tears, and it was some time before she became quiet enough to talk. Charity tried hard to keep her own tears back, and frequently was overcome with emotion. Finally, between great sobs, Mrs. Briggs said, “I do think it is very kind of them, and she will appreciate it, but not more than I, for I thought they had forgotten me in my time of trouble. It will be received in the spirit in which it is given, for it is a Christian act; and I am so glad, for it renews my faith in them who had almost caused me to believe that there were no Christians, as ‘actions speak louder than words.’ I was one of the charter members of the church, and, having no relatives except my one dear brother, I always thought that should troubles come to me my friends in the church would be a great help to me with their kind words and sympathy, but” — a fresh burst of tears, which it seemed to the now thoroughly astonished Charity never would cease — “that is where I was mistaken, for they never came near, nor asked how we were, and but a very few attended the funeral of my dear and only brother. The railroad men could not have been kinder, and the people of the town tried in every way to make our sorrow lighter, but tlVe great call of my heart was unanswered. Why did not some of my friends in the church write a letter or send a word of sympathy? The way Sister Trigsby treated me hurt me most of all, for she had always said she loved me as a sister, and I believed her, and was always glad to do what she asked me to do in the days now past and gone forever. I can’t describe my feelings when the train came into the depot, and she was not there to meet me. I never knew how it felt to be all alone before. All my blessed friendships are shattered through no fault of mine. More than a week had passed when one day someone knocked at my door. I answered, and there was Sister Trigsby and her mother. Both said at once, ‘Oh, how sorry we feel that you have had such great trouble,’ and Sister Trigsby attempted to kiss me. I stepped back and said, ‘You hypocrites, to come now, after so long a time, and say you are sorry. I don’t believe it. You were having too good a time at the Christmas bazaar to attend my brother’s funeral, or send a word of sympathy. Don’t you ever say you are my friend again.’ Mrs. Trigsby leaned heavily on her mother, saying, ‘Take me away, Mamma, take me away!’ Since then not one of my old church friends has ever called on me, not even Brother Preston. They care for us only when we can give them money.”