The Marietta journal. [volume] (Marietta, Ga.) 1866-1909, 1889-10-24
For the Marietta journal.
SYMPATHY.

sweetest WOfuS IN the EngllSn IAN
guage, and when one tells me that
he sympathizes with me, and shows
me by his actions that he meant it,
| look upon him as little less than
an angel. But this sympathy that 10
''from the teeth out" | have no use
for l wouldn't give a nickel for a
million bushels of it. OF what use
is it? When death stalks into the
homes OF our friends and acquaint-
ances, leaving the bereft ones in
silence and tears, it is mete that we
should offer our sympathies. 1t is
all we can do-just to teel sorry for
them. Their comfort must come
from God. 1t is the sympathy that
could take the form of deeds and
does not that | am harping on. |
cannot make my meaning any clear
er than relating an incident in my
own experience. When | went into
business a gentleman with whom l
was we'll acquainted came to me ard
proffered his best wishes for my sue
cess. He felt sure that fortune
awaited me. If his sympathies had
been worth the millioneth part of
a cent to the dollars, how grandly /
could have started out on my bust
ness career His expressions of
good will were IS plentiful as gusts
wind in an equ.noctial gale. Not
long after that happened to be up
'0-'n wia - 0f money with
me. A telegram ~ u
which required an immediate an
swer. | debated in my mind wheth-
er | should 60 home to get the
money to pay for said telegram or
whether | should just step into my
friends @ Office and borrow so cents
for few hours. Unluckily, | de-
cided on the latter course. He was
so sorry that he hadn't it. l could
not helping thinking, that if he
CHANGED not to have it, how easy it
would have been for him to have
saved me walk by going out and
getting it for me, which he could
have done; but my expression OF
countenance never betrayed my
feelings. l then knew that he did
not mean one word he had said !;
that he was insincere Git has been a
difficult lesson for me to learn that
people don't always mean what they
say
Years ago, when | lived in a large
city | was member of a Foreign
Missionary Society. The members
were the most interchangeable workers
imaginable, and the most tender
hearted of women. We made it a
rule 10 carry along several handker-
chiefs to our meetings so that we
could cry to our hearts content
when our President got up and read
anything about the poor benlghted
heathens. One cold December even
ing, christmas eve), we had assem-
bled to perfect our plans for a
Christmas Offering, or getting up a
box, or something of the kind, to be
sent across "the the big pond" The
door-bell rang, little barefooted
girl shivering in piece of shawl,
asked if she might beg for pair OF
old shoes. The lady Of the house
and our President, too-slammed
the door in her face and came back
into the room saying. that beggars
were always intruding where they
were not wanted. l was so morti-
fed and disguised that made some
excuse and left the meeting. |
caught up with the little girl and in
vited her to go with me to my home
where | gave her from my wearing
apparel. lnever attended another
meeting Of that society; not that
| decried any movement for the en-
lightenment for the heathens; but
while We were making plans for suf-
fercrS thousands of miles away, here
was a chlid-beggar turned away
hungry and cold at our own doors,
and that too, on the eve of the birth
of our Savior. There must have
hooo