Part 10 (2/2)
”So, as spring approached, I hoped that better days had really come for this family. Unfortunately, however, in March a sad accident brought this prosperous state of things to a sudden end. On the morning of March 10, N. brought me word that his mother had fallen downstairs and broken her arm, and asked me to call as soon as possible. I found the poor woman in bed, with her right wrist broken, and her face and body badly bruised. She was in great pain, and so discouraged that it was pitiful.
Her boarders had gone, and she found herself once more dependent on charity; but I felt I could say {213} from a full heart that the help she now needed would not be grudged to her. For, surely, no one could help respecting her endeavor for self-support or could regard her effort as a failure; and, when her accident reduced her once more to dependence, her rent was paid for the rest of the month, she had a bag of flour and other groceries in the house, and $8.00 in money with which to pay the doctor for setting her wrist.” The visitor adds: ”I think that during this year's visiting Mrs. X. had really learned to regard me as a friend. At first I do not think she liked me very well, and I also found it hard cordially to like her. We were not naturally sympathetic. I am afraid that she often thought me hard; and she had a dreary, complaining way that tried me a great deal. But her good qualities commanded my respect and her misfortunes my pity; and on her my evident desire to befriend her gradually had its effect. Her first expression of real feeling was when she consulted me about her plan for taking boarders, and that was after nine months of constant visiting. She then said that I was the only friend that she had in the world; and later, when the plan was in successful operation, she told me that she attributed all her prosperity to me, and that she was a star in my crown. That she owed all her prosperity to me was of course an exaggeration. I could not have helped her had she not been the essentially decent woman she was. But, at the same {214} time, it was true that, had she not been helped and encouraged when her dest.i.tution was so great, she would probably have lacked both the physical and moral strength, as well as the opportunity later, to stand upon her own feet. And, when her bad fortune again overtook her, it was much for her that she had a friendly visitor to turn to. She felt it so herself; and, as she lay moaning with pain, she sobbed out that I was the only comfort she had on earth.”
After the breaking of her wrist, Mrs. X. was dependent for a long time, since the wrist did not knit properly, and her right hand was almost disabled. It did not seem as if she could ever get on her feet again.
But after a time she wished to move to one of the country towns where she had acquaintances. The visitor went to the place herself to examine the chances, and decided that the plan was worth trying. The Provident a.s.sociation gave $10.00 for moving and $10.00 more for a start. After that the visitor gave a little from time to time; but, for the most part, the family were self-supporting. The boy worked in a factory, the girl was employed by a neighbor, and the mother raised hens and vegetables.
At last accounts the daughter was married. Her husband is of good character and prosperous. Both the brothers are earning good wages, the younger one having grown from a sickly child to a strong and hearty boy.
The mother is successful with her poultry, and gets high prices for {215} the eggs. The husband comes and goes as formerly, contributing nothing to the family income, but doing no special harm to any but himself.
Certainly, the present condition of the family is a very happy contrast to that in which they were first found; and certainly, also, these changed conditions are in no small degree due to the earnest and devoted efforts of the visitor.--Sixteenth Report of Boston a.s.sociated Charities, pp. 45 _sq_.
_Unconscious Influence of Good Neighbors._--I would venture to say that there is not an immoral man or woman in neighborhoods known as disreputable, however completely he or she may have cast off self-restraint and regard for character, who has not daily examples of persons, close to such homes and haunts of vice, living honest and morally clean lives, and who is not, to a degree not consciously known, restrained and influenced by the contact. . . . s.p.a.ce will not permit many instances to be stated, but, as ill.u.s.trating what I am wishful to make clear, I give two. In a court behind a street well known as bearing almost the worst character in Manchester lives a man, paralyzed, unable to leave an old sofa which has been his bed for months. He was in the Royal Infirmary, and there p.r.o.nounced incurable, but likely to live years with ordinary care. He could have been taken to the workhouse hospital at Crumpsall, where he would have {216} had careful nursing and suitable food. He has no dread of the workhouse hospital, and would gladly go if he had any hope of cure. He speaks most gratefully of his treatment at the Royal Infirmary. But there is no hope of cure, and his wife and he have determined to keep together while he lives, and he refuses the comforts of the hospital, and she refuses to let him go from her. She has made her home in this court, working in the room in which he lies, with only another room for their four children. She earns an average of 5s. weekly; her eldest boy earns at a situation 5s. more, and on what is left out of 10s., after paying 2s. 6d. rent, and buying coal and light, the six live. (The condition of things is now improved by the guardians deciding to take two of the children into Swinton Schools.) This is a simple and very ordinary story. But what is the effect of the woman's work? She says little to her neighbors. Her high purpose and her complete devotion to her husband and children have made other women ashamed of sin, and made men wish themselves worthy of women like her.
She has no thought that she is doing anything but giving her life for her husband and children, has no knowledge of what the words ”unconscious influence” mean--but none the less she is ”a light s.h.i.+ning in a dark place.”
Another ill.u.s.tration. An old man, for forty years a laborer, never earning more than a weekly wage of {217} 20s., who had brought up three sons (now decent working men, married, with families), became unable to work longer, and is allowed 5s. weekly by his last employer; the rent is paid by his sons, who also give an occasional s.h.i.+lling when they visit him. This is the whole income for himself and his wife. Some time ago when in the street he met a young woman whom he recognized as the daughter of a man who used to work with him. He saw that she was out for immoral purposes and spoke to her, telling her how sorry he was to find her leading such a life. As she appeared sorry and repentant, he took her home to his wife to take care of her until he could see her father.
He found that the father had moved to Bury, having left his work in Manchester from shame at his daughter's disgrace. On the Sunday, when he could expect to find the father at home, the old man walked the seven miles to Bury and found his former mate, but could not prevail on him to take his daughter home. In fact, the father was very angry at being asked, and refused to listen. The old man walked back and told his wife that the girl must stay with them until the next Sunday, when he would try again. The next Sunday the old man walked to Bury and saw the father, who was somewhat softened, but still refused to see his daughter.
A walk home again, and the old man and his wife settled that the girl should remain with them for another try to be made, and on the next Sunday he set out on the {218} road, hopeful to succeed. The father this time gave way, and on the following Monday the daughter went home, and has since lived at home working regularly. The old man and his wife don't know that they have done anything ”out of common,” or anything more than ought to be done, ”for a poor la.s.s.”--”Drink and Poverty,” by Councillor Alexander M'Dougall, pp. 7 _sq_.
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