Collection › The Lutheran Pioneer (St. Louis) › Vol. 27 (1905) › Page 37
The Lutheran Pioneer St. Louis — 1905, Page 37
front matter 1
Page 1
Page 2
Page 3
Page 4
Page 5
Page 6
Page 7
Page 8
Page 9
Page 10
Page 11
Page 12
Page 13
Page 14
Page 15
Page 16
Page 17
Page 18
Page 19
Page 20
Page 21
Page 22
Page 23
Page 24
Page 25
Page 26
Page 27
Page 28
Page 29
Page 30
Page 31
Page 32
Page 33
Page 34
Page 35
Page 36
Page 37
Page 38
Page 39
Page 40
Page 41
Page 42
Page 43
Page 44
Page 45
Page 46
Page 47
Page 48
Page 49
Page 50
Page 51
Page 52
Page 53
Page 54
Page 55
Page 56
Page 57
Page 58
Page 59
Page 60
Page 61
Page 62
Page 63
Page 64
Page 65
Page 66
Page 67
Page 68
Page 69
Page 70
Page 71
Page 72
Page 73
Page 74
Page 75
Page 76
Page 77
Page 78
Page 79
Page 80
Page 81
Page 82
Page 83
Page 84
Page 85
Page 86
Page 87
Page 88
Page 89
Page 90
Page 91
Page 92
Page 93
Page 94
Page 95
Page 96
Concordia Seminary Library, St. Louis (scholar.csl.edu/lutheran_pioneer/27)
⤓ Download page image (full resolution)
Transcription machine transcription, uncorrected
The Lutheran Pioneer.
Sad News from North Carolina.
A sad visitation befell our mission in North
Carolina, especially our colored Lutheran congre-
gation in Salisbury. On the afternoon of April 5,
a violent storm swept over that city, causing a fear-
ful destruction of property. Among the buildings
that were wrecked is also our colored Lutheran
church. The storm lifted it from its foundation,
tore it to pieces, and landed the fragments in the
street. We thank God that no lives were lost in the
terrible cyclone; but our hearts are sad over the loss
of our beautiful church building. It was considered
one of the neatest chapels in our North Carolina
mission field. With great joy and thanksgiving it
was dedicated to the service of the Triune God on
the 19th of February, 1899, and since that time
37
One thought followed another— but just then he
heard footsteps near by, and turning around he saw
a little girl approach the gate of the church-yard and
pass hurriedly through. ‘‘Are you not afraid, Chris-
tina, to go through the graveyard so late?”’ he asked.
“Tt is, indeed, already dark.’’
‘“‘Afraid?’’ she repeated, with asmile, and looked
at him in surprise. ‘‘No, Iam not afraid. I only
go this way to get home so much quicker. Over
there on the other side of the graveyard is my home,
don’t you see?’’
She pointed with her finger to a little, bright
light which shone from a window beyond the grave-
yard. She then bade good-night and hurried away,
past the graves, to her home.
Christina’s words had a wonderful effect on the
young man.
Ruins of the Colored Lutheran Chapel at Salisbury, N.C.
many a large congregation assembled in the beau-
tiful church to listen to the preaching of the pure
Gospel by our Lutheran missionaries. The con-
gregation has lost its church home and the children
their school, and their hearts are bowed down with
sorrow. May God comfort them and soon grant
them the joy of having another church home pro-
vided for them by the friends of our mission.
The Little Girl’s Message.
It was an autumn evening. A young man, pale
and thin, stood leaning up against the wall of a
church-yard. Round about him the shadows of
night were thickening, and within his soul mel-
ancholy thoughts held sway.
He had consumption, and would soon be laid
away beneath the sod there within. He knew Jesus,
and was certain of coming home to God; but death
seemed to him so awful, and the grave so dark.
‘*Yes, indeed, so it is,’’ he soliloquized, ‘‘my
home, my real home and my Father’s house, lies
beyond the grave. O why shall I, then, fear the
gloomy way which leads thither? On the other side
of the grave perfect light, joy, and love await me—
yea, life everlasting.’’
And he went home comforted. — Sel.
Think of the Right Side.
We picture death as coming to destroy; let us
rather picture Christ as coming to save. We think
of death as ending; let us rather think of life as
the beginning, and that the more abundantly. We
think of losing; let us think of gaining. We think
of parting; let us think of meeting. We think of
going away; let us think of arriving. And as the
voice of death whispers, “*You must go from earth,”’
let us hear the voice of Christ saying, ‘‘But you are
coming to me!?’— Norman McLeod.