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THAT LITTLE OLD MAID

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Pacific Press Publishing Company · Oakland, California · Jul 2, 1896

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 22, No. 26.

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"THAT LITTLE OLD MAID."

By Cora Bell

BY CORA BELL.
It was one of those bright, beautiful Sabbath mornings when the very atmosphere seems to be filled with the Spirit of God. Two young girls who were on their way to church were earnestly talking.
“All nature is in harmony this morning,” the younger one was saying. “Look at the mountains. I can almost hear them ‘break forth into singing.’ Isn’t it the very day for you to receive the Holy Spirit into your life, Effie?”
“O Jessie, you do not know what that would mean to me! I could not be a Christian and dance, and I could not give up dancing. I just love it. It gives me new life and strength.”
“But, Effie, the Lord gives new life and strength of which you do not know. He is Life, ‘The Way, the Truth, and the Life.’ Will you promise me this, that you will go to Miss Eaton this afternoon, and ask her to tell you about her life?”
“Why, Jessie, do you mean that little old maid, who is sub-editor in the Journal Office? A very queer request, but I will do as you wish me to.”
That afternoon Effie went to see Miss Eaton, as she had promised.
“I am afraid you will think it very strange when I tell you what my errand is, Miss Eaton, but Jessie Mills said it would be sure to help me if I could hear about your life. I hope you will not think me rude or curious.”
“Not in the least, and I hope that what I say may help you,” Miss Eaton answered simply.
“Until I was eighteen I received every comfort, luxury, and pleasure that money could secure; then I became a lonely, penniless orphan. Of the year that followed I can not speak. It was my time of toil and sadness. Then an uncle, who had not known ofmy changed life before, wrote, urging me to come to them. I went, and on my arrival I found that they freely offered me, and fully expected me to share, home, money, society, and everything that they themselves enjoyed.
“Their only child was a girl of my own age, who had just entered society, and for a year we lived in a constant whirl of excitement and gaiety. I loved the bustle and excitement, and I used to say that dancing gave me new life.”
Here Miss Eaton paused, and Effie exclaimed:—
“Why, Miss Eaton, did it not seem perfectly delightful to be placed back in a position of wealth and enjoyment, after that year of toiling loneliness?”
“Yes, it seemed very delightful to me then, but one evening when we were returning from a brilliant ball, an accident occurred. Our carriage was overturned, and we were thrown into the street. I saw in those few frightful minutes what a useless, empty life I was living. I saw all the frivolous gaieties, which had seemed so delightful before, in their true light. I found that the new life I received from dancing all left me in the hour of danger; and suddenly I realized how much good might be done with the money that was being spent for things I did not need, of the many hungry mouths it would feed, of the little cold bodies it would make warm. Most of all I realized how unprepared I was to die, and I resolved that if I escaped from death, my life should be different. Then darkness settled over me, and I became unconscious. The next time I opened my eyes, I was in my own room, and the doctor was saying: ‘It was a very narrow escape. If she had fallen two inches nearer the track, it would have been certain death.’ It is a strange and great thing to be so very, very near to death.”
“The next day I was all right, and as no one else had been injured, every one seemed inclined to forget the unpleasant occurrence as soon as possible. But I could not forget, and when, after lunch, we were all sitting in the library, I told my kind relatives what my feelings were. Then came the greatest struggle of my life. My uncle begged me to put such thoughts away, and continue to be a daughter to them; my aunt said I was too young to think of such things, and spoke of my success in society; and Cousin Agatha painted in brilliant colors all the good times we would have during the trip abroad that we had been planning for the summer.”
“Just then the door-bell rang, and as the visitor was announced, my uncle said, ‘Go to your room, and think well before you make your decision; then come and tell us here; for it will mean more to him than it will to us.’”
“I went, glad of the opportunity, for I felt that in the presence of Clarence Willis I must yield. I thought that I could not do otherwise.”
“There friends, comfort, love, a happy home, and devoted husband awaited me; while if I went, it would be to a loveless, friendless life of work, not unlike that lonely, lonely year.”
“Suddenly the struggle ceased, and I cried, ‘Lord, what wilt thou have me to do?’”
“Peace came to me then, and it has never left me.”
“I returned to the library. I saw Clarence rise as if to come to me, but I could not speak. I went to the piano, and, as my fingers touched the keys, a sweet old hymn came to my mind, and seemed to fill my whole being. It just expressed what I wished to say, but could not, but I sang my answer to them then.”
“O Miss Eaton, please sing it to me, won’t you?” said Effie pleadingly.
“If you wish it,” she said; and as she sang, in a clear, sweet voice, her face shone with spiritual strength and joy:—
“Henceforth this vain world must all go; Its claims I see are but dross; For none but my Jesus I’ll know, I’ll glory above in the cross. I am thine, blessed Jesus, all thine, The witness impart unto me; The death that I die is to sin, The life that I live is to thee. “Go, friends that would keep me from him. Go, joys that would share with his love. Go, hopes that would drag me to sin. Go, all that from him would remove. Come, sorrow, if only in thee I shall cling to my Saviour and God. Come, scorn and reproach, if left free To be drawn evermore to my Lord.”
When Miss Eaton had finished her “heart song,” Effie was crying silently.
“How could you do it? O Miss Eaton, I have been saying I could not be a Christian, because I could not give up dancing, and you gave up everything, and are not sorry or unhappy! I can not understand it.”
“I think you will understand it soon, dear. I am glad you came to me; for every time I hear young people say they can not give up worldly pleasures for Christ, I long to tell them how much sweeter the pleasure is that comes from serving him.”
“It makes one so happy to help feed the hungry, to give warm clothing to the cold, to be of service to the sick, to send light to the heathen, and to tell the poor prisoners of the happiness and rest of the Christian life. It is the only perfect life.”
“I am come that they might have life, and that they might have it more abundantly.”
“And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.”
“These are the words he spoke, and they have been tried and proved by millions of trusting hearts.”
The day was ended. Darkness was creeping into the room. The “little old maid” had finished her story. Another gem had been added to her crown; another day had been spent in doing good, and another soul had come to know the fulness and joy of the “life hid with Christ in God.”—The Leader.