A New-Year’s Day Experience in Our Southern Missionary Field
By C. A. Watkins
NEW-YEAR’S day dawned with a balmy, springlike air in Louisiana, resembling our Northern days in May. A light shower in the night had sweetened the atmosphere, and the birds were singing cheerfully. We had been working in the city for several weeks, and planned a trip to the country to spend our holiday. We did not wish it to be spent unprofitably; and although we had no way of going except on foot, we burdened ourselves with some select books and periodicals, and started on our journey. Before reaching the city limits we were well heated by the walk, as the day grew hot toward noon, but the way was shaded with magnolia trees and moss-covered oaks, under which we rested occasionally. The odor from fresh-plowed ground was exhilarating, and the green garden vegetables were a charming sight to us who have all our lives been accustomed to the snow-covered New-year surroundings. When about four miles from the city, we began to call upon the people. The thickly settled district we were in presented an inviting territory for house-to-house work and canvassing. Raging packs of hounds greeted us at every gate, but we somehow gained an entrance; sometimes I stood guard while Mrs. Watkins entered and talked with the inmates. With our first effort began an experience. The people were all of foreign descent. This part of Louisiana comprises the original French and Spanish settlements, belonging to the old Louisiana Purchase. These people can not read or write English, yet they are prosperous. They implored us to come and teach them. The children have recently had some opportunities, and speak fair English, so we could use them as interpreters. They offered us a building and promised financial support if we would come and teach them. At house after house we heard the same cry for help. One young man offered to take us at once in his wagon to see others whom he knew to be eager for our service. Our hearts were stirred by their petitions, but we could do no more than promise them consideration. What a grand opening for those whom the Lord has prepared for the school work! Our return route was by way of an American settlement. By this time we were tired and hungry, but we could not forbear stopping to visit more of the people. Wherever they could read English, we found no trouble in selling literature. Our cash sales amounted to over two dollars, besides several orders for large books, and the gift of free reading. One passing stranger stopped to ask what I carried. He bought several small works to take with him twenty miles up the river, where he resided. Mrs. Watkins at last entered a most beautiful old residence well known as “The Oaks.” I feared that here we would get a “bluff,” the surroundings showed so much aristocracy. A few words, however, revealed the fact that the lady of “The Oaks” was a native of the same county from which my wife came, in Virginia. She bought a copy of “The Coming King,” and insisted on our stopping for lunch; and that lunch proved to be an old-fashioned Southern dinner, to which we did justice. She was a kind, Christian woman, and I believe our visit was taken note of above. On our departure she gave us a large jar of preserved figs to extend her hospitality. The remainder of the day was spent with many additional sales and experiences. We found some hungry for a few words of Christian kindness, to whom our call seemed a Godsend. The day closed too soon for us, and we returned to our room with the knowledge that true pleasure is found only in true service, and that the great field lies near our door, as well as in climes more distant.