THE WASTE-NOT SOCIETY by Lucy L. Ward

Seventh-day Adventist Missionary Society · Oakland, California · Dec 15, 1881

THE WASTE-NOT SOCIETY.

By Lucy L. Ward

"It would be very hard not to have enough to eat," said Daisy.

"It would be hard to see a great many people hungry, and not be able to give them anything," added Hope.

"We can't know anything about it," exclaimed Helen, excitedly; "We never knew what it was to go without a single meal when we wanted it. We never saw anybody really sick because they were so hungry. It is dreadful!"

The troop of little girls walked on through the bright March sunshine with sad and troubled faces. They had been to the Children's Missionary Society, and had been told there, by the president, of the dreadful famine in Persia. She had read to them of how the corn and wheat had become scarce and high because the crops had failed, and how the poor people could not buy bread to eat, and were starving all over the country—starving to death, many of them. And how the missionaries had written home asking for money to buy food to save their suffering people. They had been turned to for help because the people knew that they were Christians, and that their religion would make them loving and generous to them in their distress. But they could do little to help them unless they had more money. Would not the Christians at home send special aid to them in this great need, they pleaded.

The appeal had gone deep into the hearts of these children in America, where in their happy, beautiful homes they scarcely knew what it was to be denied a luxury, and it stirred earnest purposes in them. Helen Cary and Bella Carr walked home arm in arm.

"We must send them some money," said Bella; "but how shall we get it?"

She was full of it at the tea-table that night, and ready to give up cake and sugar and butter and tea if she could be paid a good price for it.

"Why, Bella!" laughed her mother; "we should soon find you in a state of starvation as bad as the Persians. You must try some other plan."

"I tell you, Bella," said her brother, "you might have a "waste-not" society. You know there is no other country where so much that is useful is burned up or thrown away as in America. If you should save, and ask other people to save for you, such things as scraps of paper, rags, and old iron, and should sell them, you would gradually get quite a little money."

Bella looked doubtful. "I shouldn't think it would make much," she said; "it would take a lot of paper and rags to weigh anything."

"Try it," said her brother.

So the next morning, directly after breakfast, she went over to Helen's to tell her about it. Helen danced around and clapped her hands at the proposal. "Oh, goody!" she said; "we have some rags we can sell, and I am sure we can get some more. And I saw some old iron in a vacant lot, the other day, which I suppose we could have."

"Why, yes," said Bella; "nobody would want it, and I'll get Bert to go after it with the wagon."

That was the beginning of a ceaseless activity among these five or six little girls, who were anxious to give something more than their usual missionary contributions.

"Their enthusiasm is something dreadful," said Georgie Davis' sister one day, when she was laughing with a friend over some of their exploits. "The other day, when we were driving, Georgie wanted to gather up some iron rings which were lying along the railroad track, and are used for fastening freight-cars together. I sometimes think our flatirons and kettles are in danger."

"And my rubbers were disposed of," rejoined the other. "There was a man around buying old bottles, rubber, and so forth, and the next time I needed my rubbers, they could not be found. Daisy is sure that only wornout ones were sold; but we are forced to believe that she is not always an impartial judge of the sound condition of an article."

"Poor rubbers!" laughed her friend.

"Yes," said the other, "but I want to tell you of something else, the funniest sight! I was going around the corner yesterday, in the rain, and there were Helen and Bella with umbrella and school satchels, chasing a piece of paper that was blowing away in the wind! They captured it, you may be sure."

There was continually something new and exciting for the children to tell each other, and they had frequent and interesting meetings.

"O Hope!" cried Bella, rushing in to see her one morning. "Bert is going to take a load of paper and rags to Wilberton to sell for us. He can get a cent and three-quarters a pound there, and we can get only a cent and a half here."

"That is splendid!" said Hope, much impressed by this business arrangement. "Are there many of them?"

"A whole shed full," responded Bella. "We've been collecting them there."

Another day Daisy Bradford made an announcement which was received with great glee. "Professor Harmon has given us all his examination papers," she said.

"And papa brought home a whole basketful of business letters for us," added Hope.

"And," said Georgie, "Mrs. Seymour told mamma she had some old iron for us."

"All right, we'll send for it," said Bella.

"Mrs. Lane will give us some paper and rags, if we will go for them, too," remarked Helen.

Bella Carr was treasurer. As the children gathered in their pennies, they handed them over to her, and she gave them, once a month, to the treasurer of the missionary society, who telegraphed them at once to Persia. It interested the children very much that that could be done—that the hungry people did not have to wait for the slow traveling steamers to carry the money around to them; but that the missionaries could be telegraphed, "There is money in the bank in America for you," and in Persia, the piece of paper that told them that was as good as the money itself.

During the first two months the children had collected over nine dollars, and handed to the treasurer. The next two there was not quite so much, but in July there was a wonderful contribution. There had some special money come to them outside of the proceeds from their gathered-up scraps. One lady had given them her "soap money," and one little girl's birthday present had quietly gone into the treasurer's hands. And there had been little sums from private hoards added, now and then, by the children, to the "waste-not" money they handed over. But after all, the principal part of it was from the sale of the precious collection of scraps: and altogether, when they came to count it over, it amounted to eighteen dollars and forty cents.

"It's the most splendid thing that ever happened!" cried Bella, with shining eyes.

"It's the best fun I ever had!" said Helen, who could hardly keep her dancing feet still long enough to say anything.

"I had no idea we could ever get so much money," said Daisy, with the dimples chasing each other over her sweet face. "I am sure there can't be as many hungry people now."

"And just out of the things people throw away." added Hope, with her arm around Daisy's neck.

"I wish they would throw away ever so much more," exclaimed Georgie, the youngest of them all. They all laughed heartily at that, and then found that it was time to go home.

That evening, as Helen Cary sat on the doorstep, watching the shadows creep across the lawn in the gathering twilight, there were very sweet thoughts running through her mind.

"I am sure Jesus must be glad that we have so much money," she thought. "I think it has been like carrying out what he said to his disciples when he told them to 'gather up the fragments.' I am glad he knows. There is something, too, in a parable about his saying to the people on his right hand, 'I was hungry, and ye gave me meat.' That must mean that when we do things for others he counts it as done for him. I think that is the best thing about giving money and denying ourselves. It is better, even, than to really help people, to remember that Jesus takes all that we do as a gift to him because we love him."

And the work was even greater and more blessed than Helen knew. For it did not only help the poor people in far-away Persia, and bless the givers by its reflex influence, but it proved an effective, though unspoken lesson to some whose hearts were as yet untouched by love for the Master. And so, like the ripples caused by the stone thrown into the lake, the circles of its influence extended farther and farther,—how far, who can tell?

The little society is still going on, and I think as long as there are fragments to be saved, and busy little hands to work, it will not come to an end. Dear little girls! Through little self-denials and the giving up of precious play hours for eager work, they are learning the first lessons in the service of Christ. And I think as they grow older, and the time comes for heavier burdens and responsibilities to rest upon their shoulders, they will give a ready answer to the Master's call for workers. For the world's urgent need, and the Master's beautiful service, I believe there will be the glad surrender of heart and life; and that whenever Christ calls, and wherever his work is most pressing, there will be the glad response from enthusiastic hearts, "Here am I dear Lord, send me!"—Lucy L. Ward.