Part 15 (1/2)
THE SONGS MY MOTHER SANG.
Words and Music by Mrs. FLORENCE ROBERTS.
DUET Or SOLO.
1. One day I found a precious book Containing many a gem Of song my mother used to sing It takes me back again Across the vista of the years, When, by her loving voice, Melodious invitation came To make the Lord my choice.
2. She sang about the previous blood Christ shed on Calvary; And how, to save our souls from h.e.l.l, He died in agony. ”Come, sinners, to the gospel feast”
Methinks I hear her still Singing, as silently she prayed ”Lord, break that stubborn will.”
3. This blessed soldier of the cross To her reward has gone; But oh, the tender memories She left in sacred song.
And, tho' I wandered far from G.o.d, And wasted many years, The songs my mother used to sing Will oft-times bring the tears.]
Up to this time I had not uttered a word. The scene had practically rendered me temporarily speechless; but now I took a few steps into the room, whilst one of the men found an old soap box and turned it upside down for me to sit on. At a glance I saw vermin crawling in the cracks of the filthy floor. Oh! it was awful! Soon, however, I lost sight of my loathsome surroundings, for in answer to silent prayer the dear Lord was giving me a message in song. Never was there closer attention than while they listened to the song which you will find between these pages, ent.i.tled ”The Songs My Mother Sang.” Then I knelt and prayed, and prayed.
”On that dirty floor?” you ask. Yes, dear reader; I quite forgot the dirt and the vermin. I only saw souls going to h.e.l.l if they didn't get help from G.o.d. (Afterwards I observed that neither vermin nor dirt clung to me.)
When once more conscious of my surroundings, I discovered how dirty their faces were, for now there were clean channels on many cheeks.
Their tears! One girl and two men agreed to forsake sin, and I was happy in the thought of conveying her to San Jose on our return next day, whilst Callie planned for the men. We did what we could for the time being and then went out into the fresh air. I asked Callie how many lived under that roof. To my amazement, she said, ”All told, about forty just at present.”
Her next mission was to the various places from which she had pilfered, and they were many. One was a harness-shop. She addressed the old man thus:
”How d'you do, sir? Do you remember me?”
”No, mam, I don't. Who are you?”
”I'm a woman who once stole a dog collar from you while your back was turned. I've come to pay for it. I'm converted now, but I used to be a 'dope' fiend.”
”You were? You don't look like it.”
”No, because G.o.d, for Jesus Christ's sake, forgave all my sins, cured me of all my bad habits, and has set me on the solid Rock, and I'm on my road to heaven. When you knew me I was on my road to h.e.l.l.”
”But I never knew you.”
”Yes, you did. I'm Callie ----.”
”What! You don't say so! Well, well! wonders will never cease. It's enough to make a man believe there is a personal G.o.d, I declare it is!”
Callie availed herself of this opportunity, and when we left there, the harness-maker had promised to serve her wonderful Savior and he kept his word.
Next we visited the rescue home, where we were received with open arms by dear Sister Kauffman. After having a precious time with her family and partaking of her hospitality, we went down-town again. There we spent a glorious evening at a street-meeting. Callie testified.
Afterward we went to the Emmanuel Gospel Mission, where she gave a message from that most precious parable, ”The Prodigal Son.” When the invitation was given, the altar filled with seekers, most of whom went from there with victory in their souls.
We were the guests of the mission superintendent and family over night.
Callie was my room-mate. Then it was that I saw what the hypodermic needle had done for her. _There was no place_ (_save down her spine_) _that was not marked_, and no wonder, she had been a morphine slave for twenty-seven years--its abject slave.