How She Contrived It by Margaret E. Sangster

Seventh-day Adventist Missionary Society · Oakland, California · Feb 1, 1883

How She Contrived It.

By Margaret E. Sangster

In a certain Sunday-school, no matter where, there was a class which had been the despair of successive teachers. One after another was frozen out by the elegance, or was it by the stiffness, of the half-dozen beautiful young girls who composed the exclusive circle. Bound together by congenial social relations, the young ladies remained, apparently indifferent as to whether they had a teacher or not, and equally polite and uninterested with the new teachers who came from time to time, as they had been with the old.

The superintendent grieved over their lack of class feeling. They were in the school, and not of it. It was suggested to him to press them into the service as teachers. They, one and all, declined the office. During the opening and closing exercises, they behaved with propriety, as grown-up girls should, and, when they had no one to teach them, they spent the time in talking to each other with evident enjoyment, but as evidently about anything else rather than the lesson.

One day, a little dark-eyed woman entered the school, and offered her services as a teacher. She stated that she had recently come to live in the neighborhood, and wanted to work for Christ.

"We have a young ladies' class," said the superintendent, with some hesitation,—thinking, good man, of the rich and rustling silks, worn by the class in question, and of the plain attire of the woman before him. "It is an unpopular class," he continued; "nobody succeeds in it; but you might try it for to-day."

Looking in her direction a little later, he could hardly believe his eyes. The ice had melted. The class had forgotten itself over the Bible, and was a unit in its eager attention to the lady, who was speaking to them in a low, soft voice, and as if what she had to say was worth their hearing. And, yes indeed, he could see that they were asking questions as well as replying to them.

Sunday after Sunday, the stranger, who soon grew to be a friend, was in her place; but ere long the six had grown to twelve, and then to twenty; and in three months the number had increased to thirty-five. A little unused room, not much more than a recess, was set apart for the class, which could no longer establish itself in its old quarters.

The original six were as well dressed as ever, but very much less exclusive. For among the additions to their ranks was a pretty German Bertha, who was a nurse in a neighboring family; a Swedish Katrine, who was a seamstress; an Irish Nora, who lived as maid-of-all-work in the home of one of the deacons; and at least a dozen young women who earned their living in shops and factories.

There was, besides, a teacher in one of the public schools, a young art student who had come from the country to pursue her favorite branch, and a pale girl who was writing for the papers.

A more miscellaneous set could not have been imagined. Yet they did not seem ill-assorted. There was no patronage in the manner of Floribel N., the judge's daughter, nor the least servility in the air of Dulcie W., who was folding sheets for books daily from eight until five.

"Tell us your secret," said some of the teachers one day, to Miss ——. It was at a little afternoon meeting of the lady teachers, informally assembled to talk over methods. "How do you contrive to hold those girls?"

"I have no secret," was the reply. "I pray for my girls daily. I name each individual at some time every week, to my Master, and I study the lesson with my whole heart and soul. I try to make it a living lesson; not a story of the past, but a vivid stirring story for to-day. I try to find out what is back of each girl,—what home influences she has, what are her surroundings, and to what key her life is set. Then I seek to discover whether she is happy or contented, whether she feels herself of use, and what work she can do, and my constant refuge in every doubt and perplexity is my Saviour. I know these young lives are very precious to him, and I cannot be satisfied to let them slip into worldliness, when they ought to be consecrated to him."

"But how did you conquer the caste feeling so completely?"

A light came into the dark eyes, kindling the expressive face into rare beauty.

"I think nothing about it. Caste must go down when the cross is the central thought. Why, Elsie D. brought Katrine in, having asked permission of her friend, who was Katrine's employer; and Nora came because Katrine, who lived next door, asked her to,, and Miss Jenny F., a gifted young creature who is very much alone in the vast city, was invited by Carrie P., who also studies with Professor ——. Once we had set the ball rolling, there was no trouble. The only secret," said the little woman, smiling, "is that I bear my scholars on my heart night and day, that I set them at work, and that I get them to be wide awake with interest in the Bible, which is the most interesting book in the world. And then I trust in One who never breaks his word. He is with us always."—Margaret E. Sangster, in S. S. Times.