p. 465 | DOES IT PAY?

Seventh-day Adventist Missionary Society · Oakland, California · Oct 13, 1881

DOES IT PAY?

THE season was over, winter had fairly taken its departure, and spring's first warm days were suggesting to the tired fashionables and the equally tired benevolent people of the great cities that, after a few busy weeks' flitting, time would come with its always anticipated, never realized rest.

A large number of ladies, young and old, were gathered in the spacious parlors of "our church," to review their winter's work. Preliminaries being settled, undivided attention was given to the report of the treasurer, which showed $700 as the net proceeds of fair and festival and the series of entertainments given by the young ladies during the winter.

"This is a most gratifying result of our efforts," remarked the president; "and doubtless, all the ladies feel amply repaid for any sacrifices they may have made. Seven hundred dollars will be a great help towards paying the church debt. And, besides all the labor of making articles for the fair, and preparing refreshments for the festival and for the young ladies' entertainments, the Dorcas Society has made a large number of garments for the poor. We have all had a busy winter, and our success will make the summer's rest doubly enjoyable."

When the president ceased speaking, there was a general buzz of congratulations and rejoicings. At length the order bell struck, and the president remarked:—

"We have with us to-day Mrs. Sellers, from Iowa, who would like to ask the ladies a few questions." A well-dressed, middle-aged lady, who had found her way to a seat near the stand, rose and quietly remarked that she lived in a new settlement, where they had a church to build, minister to support, and everything to establish. Seeing a notice of this meeting, she had ventured to come in, hoping to get hints that would be of service in her own smaller community—so much smaller that she feared these large plans could not be adopted at all. Still, she would like to know more of the general principles of management. By this time the ladies were all attention, and Mrs. Sellers continued:—

"I suppose your fair and festival consisted of a sale of fancy and useful articles, and a good supper. The proceeds, I believe, amounted to $200. Did you deduct the cost of the materials for the work, and the refreshments?"

"Oh! no. Everything was donated," answered the president.

"By whom?"

"By the members of the society."

"The members of the society paid for refreshments at the festival and purchased the articles for sale, the same as others, I suppose."

"Yes; and many of them purchased largely, for most of our work was beautiful."

"The young ladies' entertainments—what were they?" asked Mrs. Sellers.

"Whatever they thought would be most attractive. Tableaux and charades, Madam Jarley's wax-works, Cinderella, Dolly Varden, Mother Goose, and other amateur plays, enlivened with fine music. Refreshments were always served in an adjoining room. Our Dorcas Society, you know by the name, cares for the poor; and a most laborious winter they have had, so many men were out of employment."

"Do you make the Dorcas garments, or hire the poor women to make them?"

"We teach our young ladies industry, by making them ourselves," said the president, with a mischievous smile.

"Our Dorcas Society takes the place of church socials," she continued. "We meet and sew for the poor, and take tea together; and all who can, spend the evening socially. In such large churches, we must have some way to get acquainted; and, all things considered, we think this is the best way."

"May I ask about your Dorcas suppers? Are they provided by contributions?"

"Yes. Two or three ladies furnish whatever they choose, though we prefer to have our refreshments quite simple."

"I think I now understand your mode of working," remarked Mrs. Sellers. "Ladies, will you please accept my most sincere thanks for your patient kindness to a stranger," and, with a graceful bow, she bade them adieu.

It would be impossible to describe the scene that followed her departure. Dark frowns, broad smiles, and puzzled looks. No more congratulations. Every one seemed to feel that the winter's work was not a success; that something was wrong somewhere. The president tried to remove the depressing effects of the stranger's instigations, by relating many instances of good done by the Dorcas Society; but in vain, and the meeting soon adjourned, to re-assemble in September.

At the tea-table that evening, Mr. Kellogg's daughters gave a vivid description of the afternoon meeting, and Mary remarked: "I don't believe it pays, after all."

"That is what some of the girls have said all the winter; but I told them we had the pleasure, if it didn't pay," said Fanny.

"Well, I do wish I could know the right or wrong of these church amusements. I want to do just right, and have no doubts or regrets afterward." And Mary's sentence closed with a sigh.

"How are we to find out? All are drifting along together," was Fanny's reply. "Oh! papa, perhaps you can tell us. Will you?" she asked impulsively.

"I'll talk with you this evening, girls." And the busy man rose from the table and hurried away. An hour later, as if by common consent, the ladies of the society began to gather at Mr. Kellogg's, until the spacious parlors were well filled. Last of all, the president, Mrs. Goodwin, arrived.

"Really, this is a second edition of the semi-annual meeting," she exclaimed. "Why are you all here?" she asked laughingly. "I came to see Mrs. Kellogg alone."

"And so did we," answered a chorus of voices. "You are all most cordially welcome," said Mrs. Kellogg.

"I suppose I may as well make known my errand in this presence," remarked Mrs. Goodwin, with a smiling glance around the circle. "Mrs. Kellogg, do tell us what you think of this whole system of church work," she said. "That lady from Iowa has set my mind in such a whirl that I don't know what to think."

"I wish I could satisfy my own mind on the subject," was the reply. "There is certainly a large expenditure of time and patience; and the quiet happiness of home is much disturbed by the bustle of preparation for fairs and entertainments. These are either crosses to be borne patiently, or else the first principles are wrong; and I confess I lean more and more to the last idea. Mr. Kellogg has promised to discuss the subject with the girls this evening. He will be here soon. Perhaps his views will help us."

"I am sick of the whole affair, and have been half the winter. The money we make don't half pay for the labor," said pretty little Lily Grey.

"Why did you go on, then?" asked Susie White. "You were always present at our meetings and always active. I am surprised."

"Oh! I didn't really think it was wrong, I only thought, yankee like, that it didn't pay."

"I can never half say my prayers for a week before and after one of our entertainments," whispered Jennie Dean to her friend, Anna Haight.

"It is just so with me. I wonder why."

Just then Mr. Kellogg entered the room. After the usual greetings, Mrs. Goodwin remarked: "We have been trying in vain to solve the financial problem: Does the present mode of doing church-work really pay? Will you help us out of our difficulty, Mr. Kellogg?"

"Certainly, if I can. But you must allow me to work out the problem in stern business-man fashion." And Mr. Kellogg took from his pocket, pencil and memorandum.

"How many members have you in the society?" was his first question.

"One hundred and fifty," was the reply.

"And your profits this winter have amounted to—"

"Seven hundred dollars besides the Dorcas."

"And the Dorcas meetings have helped the poor to the amount of—"

"About two hundred dollars," was suggested.

"Nine hundred dollars in all. Six dollars for each individual. These are the gross receipts. Now for the net. How many entertainments did you have during the winter?"

"One fair and festival, and four entertainments given by the young ladies, and sixteen Dorcas meetings—twenty-one in all," replied the secretary.

"The refreshments were donated by the members of the society, I believe. How many loaves of cake were usually contributed?" asked Mr. Kellogg.

"About thirty for each public entertainment," answered two or three ladies.

"And the material for each cake would cost—"

"Fifty cents perhaps."

"Which would make for each entertainment fifteen dollars. For all, seventy-five dollars for cake alone. And I suppose coffee, tea, sugar, biscuits, meats, and other refreshments would cost ten dollars more."

"Nearer twenty," was the unanimous verdict.

"Which would be one hundred dollars for the five entertainments. And the Dorcas suppers cost about—"

"Oh, dear! I don't know. Not less than ten dollars each," replied the president.

"One hundred and sixty dollars for the winter. The materials for articles for the fair cost each member not less than one dollar—one hundred and fifty in all. Now ladies, have patience a moment longer, and we will know how well these things pay. The expenditures have been $485; the avails, $900; profits, $415; making the earnings of each member $2.76. You can decide for yourselves whether you have received a suitable reward for your labor," he added with a smile.

"But, Mr. Kellogg, how can we raise the money we need for church purposes?" asked the secretary. "We are in debt, and it weighs us down like an incubus."

"Yes, I know. And I am so old-fashioned in my views that I don't think it right to get into debt, especially to build houses of worship. But the debt exists and must be paid; and the Apostle Paul, in 1 Cor. 16:2, gives a better plan than any human wisdom could devise, and which, if conscientiously adopted by us all, would speedily remove this great obstacle to our usefulness and happiness. Just think! Six cents a week added to your present Sabbath contribution by each member of your society would amount to more than the net earnings of your winter's work; to say nothing of the great loss of time, patience, and perhaps spirituality."

"But we must have some social life in the church," said Mrs. Goodwin.

"Yes, certainly. Have well-conducted socials as often as you please; but don't call them charities, and don't waste God's bounty and your own strength in feeding those who are not hungry. But, if you ladies wish at any time to display your skill in cookery, make a genuine gospel feast. The poor will appreciate nice cake and other delicacies far more than those who are accustomed to them."

"An excursion now and then is a fine means of recreation, and enables those who are not rich to enjoy change of scene and needed rest, besides being quite as profitable pecuniarily as a church fair. As for the Dorcas Society, you will pardon me if I speak plainly. It does not seem to me quite right for ladies already over-burdened to

undertake the task of making garments for the poor. Would it not be better to meet socially, prepare the work, and by small contributions raise a sufficient sum to pay some poor women for making the garments instead of doing the work yourselves, and allowing the poor to eat the bread of idleness, thus fostering a pauper spirit? The law of the universe is the law of work, and I have long felt that it is a false charity that supersedes that law. I beg your pardon, ladies, for so frankly giving a man's view of the subject. It may be that I am entirely wrong." And Mr. Kellogg rose to leave the room.

"Don't go, Mr. Kellogg, till we express to you our most sincere thanks for your wise and kind suggestions," said Mrs. Goodwin. "And I trust we shall in future devise such plans for church work as will pay. Indeed, for myself, I am now fully convinced that the Bible plan is the only one which can be completely successful."—Sel.