Untitled article by Mrs. L. D. Avery-Stuttle

Pacific Press Publishing Company · MOUNTAIN VIEW, CALIFORNIA · Sep 6, 1905

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 31, No. 36.

EDUCATION IN THE HOME. NO. 17.

By Mrs. L. D. Avery-Stuttle

BY MRS. L. D. AVERY-STUTTLE.

FOR a moment Grandma Hartman did not reply. A dreamy look came into her dear, blue eyes, which had become misty with tears. It was very quiet in the room, and the ticking of the clock on the mantel was the only sound to be heard.

'How did I fix it up with my husband?' repeated grandma, at last. 'Well, to tell you the truth, I was sorely ashamed, as indeed I ought to have been; so that, when meeting closed, and we again set out over the snowy, winding footpath through the woods for home and children, I had not courage to speak of my newly-formed resolution.'

'But what did grandpa have to say to you?' queried Mattie.

'Not a single word, Mattie, not a single word. He dare not, you see, for fear of rousing my wrath, which he feared was only slumbering, ready to break out anew and with greater vengeance. So the journey home was made in silence, save for an occasional commonplace remark. He from fear, and I from shame, not daring to venture a word to express to the other the true state of our feelings.'

'Did you find the children all right when you got back?' interrupted Beth.

'O yes, my dear,' smiled grandma; 'we found four little forms fast asleep under the blankets, crosswise of the bed, just as I had placed them. But as I bent to kiss the innocent little sleepers, I could not but think how different were my feelings than when I had kissed them good night at parting. Well, this was Tuesday evening. Wednesday and Thursday passed, and, tho I still attended the meetings, I had spoken no word of my decision to my husband. I was very weak and foolish, and I realized it perfectly. But I could not summon courage to speak. Indeed, I was afraid that in my cruel and senseless anger, I had driven quite away those good impressions which the Spirit of God had placed in his heart. He would very likely oppose me bitterly, I reasoned, even as I had threatened to do by him; and keenly did I realize that I deserved it all.'

'At last, Friday evening came. Never shall I forget the red eye of the winter's sun as it shone through the bare branches of the trees, and then sunk behind the old barn. All day long that Friday had been to me indeed a preparation day. My baking and mending were done, and everything was in readiness for the holy Sabbath so far as I could make it so. I also noticed that your grandpa was earlier with his chores and his milking, and I wondered why. Still I lacked the courage to confess my wrong, and bravely admit that I was preparing to rest from my labor as God did from His. At last, I took the youngest child in my lap and sat down in the one rocking-chair of which our cabin could boast.'

'I then noticed that my husband was also seated, quietly reading the Bible. This was unusual with us, for we were busy people, and did not ordinarily sit down until much later. I stared at my husband in silence for a moment, and he at me; finally he spoke:'

'Wife, what are you doing?'

'What are you doing, my husband?' I echoed.

'O grandma! what did he say?' asked Elsie.

'Say! why, of course our secret was out at last, and we could only clasp each other's hands in the gathering twilight, and weep tears of gratitude and thanksgiving to God, and thus we began keeping our first Sabbath,—on Christmas eve, 1852.'

Grandma's voice grew husky, and she bent and kissed the upturned face of little Beth, who, as usual, was ready with a question:

'Did papa keep the Sabbath, too, with you, grandma?'

'Your papa was a mere babe, but Aunt Jennie, the oldest, was a little girl younger than you,—not more than five years old.'

'Did this little girl understand or notice the change?' asked Mrs. Jones. 'I am curious to know how you managed the children. Still, I suppose if they were all so young they did not realize the change. Had they been older, you might have had some trouble.'

'It is my one regret and sorrow,' sighed grandma, 'that I did not explain to little Jennie the Bible reasons for the change we had made. Tho I then considered her too young to understand, I now fully believe that she would have comprehended the plain Scripture perfectly. She was a very conscientious child, and would never work at her knitting, or even play, on Sunday, and so, when I asked her to perform her accustomed tasks on what she had regarded sacred time, she protested vigorously.'

'Could auntie knit stockings when she was littler than I?' queried Beth.

'O yes; children were brought up in those days to be busy, almost from babyhood.'

'But how did you finally manage her?' queried Mrs. Wilbur.

'I regret to say that I simply insisted upon her doing her usual tasks, without giving her a good and sufficient reason for so doing. The child had great reverence for the Bible, even then, and I could and should have made everything plain to her. I firmly believe that even very young children can comprehend a plain 'Thus saith the Lord.''

'I would like to ask if many others who attended those meetings began the observance of the seventh day,' said Mrs. Wilbur.

'Yes; there was quite a large company. But time is a great tester of sincerity; and so, after a while, there were not so many. Some were ready to declare that we would give up, because we were in such a hurry. But we told them that we had decided to do as the psalmist did, when he says, 'I made haste, and delayed not to keep Thy commandments.''

Mrs. Wilbur seemed nervous and ill at ease at grandma's reply, but said nothing.

'I imagine it must take much true courage, does it not, Mr. Hartman, to begin the keeping of a day which almost the entire Christian world antagonize?' said Mr. Jones.

'I suppose it does,' replied Brother Hartman, 'but as I have never kept any other, it is easier for me, I think; and I have always been thankful that it is so, lest I might not have had the courage to obey otherwise.'

'But now it is best to close our study for this evening, which we will do with a word of prayer, and by singing the hymn grandma told us about tonight, which is her favorite:

'Mark that pilgrim, lowly bending.''

(To be continued.)