# The Lutheran Pioneer_St. Louis_1895_S27 # Machine transcription, uncorrected — CHI Digital Archive (demonstration) The Lutheran Pioneer. 7 Mary Elizabeth Williams. 7 Our mission church at Springfield, II., suffered a great loss in the death of Mrs. Mary Elizabeth Williams, who was born in November, 1851, was confirmed at our mis- sion by Prof. H. Wyneken in March, 1888, and departed this life on June 4th, 1895. Mrs. Williams may be called the pioneer of our mission at Springfield. When Prof. Wyneken began to preach to the colored people of that city, she, with her son, was the first that attended the Lutheran services, and from that time on she was a regular attendant at church and Sunday school. She gained an excellent knowledge of God’s Word, and often professed her joy and her thankfulness to God for leading her through the mission of the Lu- theran church into the way of salvation. She knew why she was a Lutheran, and her de- votion to her church was as intelligent as it was sincere and strong. The joy that filled her heart moved her to bring others to share with her the same blessing. She was, there- fore, an earnest and zealous laborer in our mission at Springfield. It was her delight to serve the Lord and His kingdom. No wonder the members of the mission church, when hearing of the departure, said, ‘‘The soul of our mission is gone.?’ During her long sickness of six months she showed great patience and rejoiced in the assurance that she would soon be with the Saviour, in whom she so firmly believed. Her death was happy and peaceful, and marks another triumph of the Gospel in our mis- sion field. An unusually ‘large number of friends was present at the funeral to testify to the high esteem in which they held her and to mourn and sympathize with the bereaved. Prof. Herzer preached on Rev. 14, 13: ‘‘Blessed are the dead which’ die in the Lord from hence- forth: Yea, saith the Spirit, that they may rest from their labors; and their works do follow them.’”’ Prof. Wyneken spoke on Rey. 7, 13. 14: ‘And one of the elders answered, Saying unto me, What are these which are arrayed in white robes? and whence came they? And I said unto him, Sir, thou knowest. And he said to me, These are they which came out of great tribulation, and have washed their robes, and made them white in the blood of the Lamb.”’ May God comfort the bereaved and grant us all a happy and peaceful death through faith in our Saviour Jesus Christ. ———s + oa oe i Picnic of our Mission Schools at New Orleans. As there are so many school picnics taking Place now, it will probably interest the readers of the Pioneer to hear of one held by our mission schools in New Orleans. All the children of the Bethlehem and Mount Zion schools looked forward with great joy to the 24th day of May, because on this day their joint picnic was to take place. They could hardly wait until the appointed time came. But oh! their joy was turned into sorrow. For when they awoke on the morn- ing of the 24th, they heard the rain pouring down in torrents, and when they looked out they saw to their sore disappointment that all the streets were flooded. It was plain they could not go to the picnic in such weather. Now what was to be done? Everything was prepared. The lunch was ready and the cars were ordered to be there at the appointed time. [For those who have never been in New Orleans we might say that they can have no idea how it looks here after a hard rain. The water gets all over the streets and side- walks, so that it is impossible for any one to step out of the yard without wading in water. ] However, our little folks’ sorrow was only of short duration, for the picnic was postponed until the following Monday. Now all had the pleasure of being glad for the event once more. Monday promised to be a fair day, and the children came flocking to their respective school houses from all directions. Promptly at 8.30 o’clock we formed in line in the school yard and marched to Franklin Ave., where we boarded three electric cars which took us up to Audubon park. The weather continued fair, and the day was spent in swinging, play- ing games, and romping about in the woods. There was also plenty of lemonade to refresh both old and young. At 6 o’clock in the evening we marched back to the cars, and all went home happy, and felt that they had en- joyed themselves for one day to their hearts’ content. B. N. —— -*<=> o-oo Song of Praise in the Night. Once I sat at the deathbed of a man eighty years old. He was poor, aye, very poor. When well, he had earned his bread as a car- penter; now he was old and sick. As long as he could see, he had diligently searched the Scriptures, but now he was blind and could not read. As long as he could walk, despite his blindness, he would come to ehurch, led by his grandson. Once, when climbing a mountain on his way to church, he fell, broke his leg, and could no longer leave his bed. I often sat at his bedside, but never heard one word of complaint pass his lips. Peace, deep peace, shone forth from the countenance of this venerable man. His highest joy was to speak of the mysteries of God’s love. Once he said to me: ‘‘In summer, when wheat ripens and harvest time is near, ‘the blades begin to die from below; they bleach, and finally the grainsripen. Thus it is with me. Tam grad- ually dying from below; by-and-by my heart, too, when ripe, will die, and I shall be trans- lated into the garden of God.’’ When death really was approaching, I asked him what text I should choose for his funeral sermon. _ He sat up in bed, turned his eyes toward me, and said with a loud voice: ‘‘My funeral text you will find recorded in the prophet Micah, where it reads thus: ‘When I sit in darkness, the Lord shall be a light unto me.’’’ This was a song of praise in the night I have never for- gotten. —E. Frommel. — > o> The Witness of Conscience. A number of men were sitting in a hotel to- gether one evening, when the light was acci- dentally extinguished. During the absence of the servant, while in another room lighting the same, one of the guests in the darkness was secretly stabbed. On the day following the remaining guests were all summoned before the Magistrate. Each declared himself inno- cent, and none could give evidence against the other because the crime had been com- mitted in the dark and so quietly. The judge, unable to secure any evidence, thereupon said: If justice can not discover this mur- derer, conscience shall do it; unbutton your coats, and make bare your breasts in order that I may there obtain testimony. This having been done the judge passed from one individ- ual to the other, first looking carefully at the pulsations of his heart, and then squarely in the eye, until he came to one who most ear- nestly and emphatically declared his inno- cence. In*him he observed restlessness and a rapid beating of the heart, and said to him: ‘*Your conscience betrays you, you are the - murderer.’’ ‘‘I am,’’ said the man, ‘‘do with me what my crime merits.’’ ————2—+ 0-9-2 A Tighter Clasp. A little child was passing along a quiet street, clinging with one hand to the mother’s dress; but when crossing one of the busiest thoroughfares, I saw the little hand quickly letting go the dress, and seeking a hold of its mother’s hand, which when it got it felt safe. and content. So it is with us. When pur- suing the even tenor of our way, and all goes on quietly and comfortably with us, we are satisfied with the most casual and outward contact with Christ; but when we have to cross the terrible thoroughfares of life, when we are brought face to face with the dangers and distractions of sickness, or bereavement, or sorrow, then we instinctively reach up to clasp the living and loving hand; we long to see the pitying face, and to hear the old familiar voice, ‘‘Son, daughter, be of good cheer: it is I, be not afraid.’’— Selected. ~~ oa 9 ‘*To prevent the intrusion of evil thoughts, let us always take care to be usefully em- ployed; since idleness is the soil in which Satan sows his tares with liberal hand.’’ No man has a right to do what he pleases unless he pleases to do what is right.