She took up Bible characters, bringing to bear the same vivid interest,
the same power of making them realities.
These lessons were varied by little sketches or reports of one Sunday to
be read aloud the next. Of this, Nate took hold with a special zest.
None of this family could sing. She thought of a substitute. They
learned the Psalms, much of Isaiah, and many hymns, repeating them in
concert, learning to count upon this hour around the fire as others do
upon their music. How many of these times came to her in after life--the
vision of the bright faces of her boys as they clustered affectionately
around her!
Time rolled by. The railroad passed through. A village sprang up, and
the land was ready to sell. She could keep enough for her own use, and
the boys could prepare for college. Thede and Nate went away to school.
The old home was kept bright and pleasant; friends, new settlers, came
in, and now there was visiting and social life.
Jerry stayed on the farm; Theodore became a civil engineer; Nate a
minister; Johnnie went into business. Theodore used to say: "Mother, as
I travel about, all the stones and the flowers make me think of you. I
catch sight of some rock, and stop to laugh over those blessed times."
Nate said: "Mother, when I am reading a psalm in the pulpit, there
always comes to me a picture of those old evenings, with you in the
rocking-chair by the firelight, and I hear all your voices again."
Johnnie wrote: "Mother, I think that every thing I have has come to me
through you.
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