第18章 CHAPTER IV.(5)

Gloyd, had a cousin, Dr. Messinger, who would see that she had the best relief possible. None of the surgeons there gave her any hope of opening her jaws. She went to Dr. John Wyeth to have him perform the plastic surgery; that is, he cut off a flap from under her chin, turning it over the scar on her cheek.

Although Charlien was not a Christian, she had faith in God. Once she complained of my being too strict with her, but said: "Mamma I owe it to you that I have any faith in God, even if you are severe with me."

She always believed that her mother had a God. Finding no physician in New York that could open her jaws, she wrote me this: "No one but God can open my mouth, Mamma; ask him to do it." There was a Catholic woman, Miss Doregan, who boarded with me and had a store around the corner from the hotel, and I could think of no one else who had as much faith as this woman. She said she believed that God would heal my child according to prayer, so I went for seven mornings before breakfast to this saint of God. She taught me many holy truths and she explained the Scriptures to me. I learned from her a prayer that we said in concert, that was written by one of the Old Fathers, and is one of the most complete in devotion I have ever read. I will record it here:

"Come Holy Ghost send down those beams, That sweetly flow in silent streams, From thy bright throne above;

Oh, Come Father of the poor, Thou bounteous source of all our store;

Come fire our hearts with love.

Come thou of comforters the best, Come thou the soul's delicious guest, The pilgrim's sweet relief:

Thou art our rest in toil and sweat, Refreshment in excessive heat And solace in our grief.

Oh! sacred light shoot home the darts, Oh! pierce the center of those hearts Whose faith aspires to thee.

Without thy God-head nothing can Have any worth a price in man, Nothing can harmless be."

"Lord wash our sinful stains away, Water from heaven our barren clay, Our wounds and bruises heal.

To thy sweet yoke our stiff necks bow, Warm with thy fire our hearts of snow, Our wandering feet repair.

Oh, grant thy faithful dearest Lord, Whose only hope is thy sure word, The seven gifts of thy spirit.

Grant us in life to obey thy grace, Grant us in death to see thy face And endless joys inherit, Through the same Christ our Lord."

"Amen."

And now I often use this beautiful and comprehensive petition to my Dear Lord.

Charlien wrote that she had letters of introduction to a physician in Philadelphia, Dr. J. Ewing Mears, but in every letter would say: "Keep on praying." This we did. Oh, the anxiety of my mother heart! My duties as landlady kept me busy all day and part of the night. I often had to do my own cooking.

God was good to me and we were very successful financially, and managed to meet all debts and payments on the property we had purchased.

After I knew the operation had been performed in Philadelphia, I telegraphed to Charlien. The answer came from the physician: "All right," but my anxiety was intensified. I became almost wild with anxiety, and I determined to go to her. I borrowed four hundred dollars from Alex McNabb, the man she was engaged to, and in three hours I was on my way to my precious suffering one. As soon as I got on the train a sense of divine guidance came to me.

When I arrived at the hospital, I had the nurse take me to my child's room. I cannot describe the meeting. She was packing up her clothes.

I said: "Why are you doing this?" Then she told me this pitiful story: