The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1920-03-23
CENTENNIAL
 ANNIVERSARY OF POETS BIRTH
Fanny Crosby Born March 24, 182O-Of Interna-
 tionaI Fame.

anniversary of the birth of Miss Fanny Crosby, the very we11-known blind poetess and evangelistic hymn writer. She is famous not merely in Bridgeport nor Connecticut nor the United States, but internationally as well. Transactions of her songs may be heard weekly in the kraals of South Africa, in Japanese Sunday schools, and in Chinese churches, under the peepu1 trees in India where Chris tians are gathered, among the feIla- heen of Egypt, the boys and girls of Turkey, and the brown-skinned de- scendents of South Sea Island can nibaIs. Hundreds of people who have heard of the Declaration of Indepen- dence or of the plays of Shakespeare, prize the fine works of this little woman.
 Miss Crosby was a 1inea1 descend ant of the Puritans. An ancestor, Elder William Brewster coming to America on the Mayf1ower. Brew ster's daughter, Patience, married William Prince, one of the party of Englishmen whc landed on the Penn sylvania coast. In the course of time their daughter, Mercy married John Freeman, a Connecticut settler. Two years later this couple had a daugh- ter, also ed Patience, who was destined to be the great, great grand mother of one of the most famous hymn writers in the world. Miss Crosby was born in Southeast Put nam County, New York, on March 24, 1920. She became blind when very young. The cause given was that hot poultices had been applied to the eyes and had destroyed the optic nerve. At the age of IS she entered the New York Institute for the Blind. She stayed twelve years there as a pupil and the following II years she acted as a teacher in the school. While a pupil she had often read original verses on public occa- sions and once appeared with a de- putation before the House and Sen- ate at Washington to plead in verse for the education of the blind.
 In 1853 she married one of her former pupils, Alexander Van AL styne. He was well educated having graduated from the College of Sche- nectady and was a musician, a phil osoDher and deep student of human natura. He died in 1902. He insisted that gne keep her literary name of Fannie Crosby and that is why she is So widely known by that rather then as Mrs. Van Alstyne.
 Strange to say she looked upon her blindness a4s a blessing for in speak, ing of it at one time she said, 'If I had not been deprived of sight I should never have had received so good an education nor have cultiva- ted so fine a memory, nor have been able to do good to so many people.
 It seems strange to some how this wonderful woman received inspira- tion for some of her fine works. The following is told of one of her best hymns, Rescue the Perishing." One night she paid a visit to the Bowery Mission. She made one of her ap- peals and afterwards asked if any young men were present who had wandered away from home and God. After lot of urging one young man came forward, and she prayed for him. Some years later she was at convention in Worcester when a young man approached her and told of the Bowery incident. He said that he was consistent Christian since that time. His story so impressed her that she Immediately wrote Rescue The Perishing''
 In 1912 she wrote an especially fine l poem to the memory of her mother ! The poem was dedicated to her sis 1 ter Mrs. Julia Arlington. It is as 1 follows:
 1 ''It is our mothers birthday, | O gentle sister mine. ! Around its treasured memory Shall cypress branches twine. i It is our mothers birthday l That we have kept for years. 1 And shall we greet it's dawning With only silent tears? | It is our mothers Ffrfh dav. We miss her kindly face,
 And in our hearts. dear sister, 1 There is a vacant place. Yet faith and happiness assure US l That OCT the crystal sea,
 With those we loved so fondly, 1 She waits for you and me. There is a land of beauty,
 A summer land of song, 1 Where parting scenes are over, Nor will the time be long, Till in the arms of Jesus, And piIIowed on his breast. I We meet our precious loved ones Among the pure and bIest.
 Sweet land of holy rapture! No throb of anxious care Nor wearying night can enter Its pearly gates so fair. 1 O joy no words can utter, o bliss no tongue can tell, 1 We'll clasp our hands in glory, 1 And never say farewell. Miss Crosby used to tell this story
 of W. H. Doane, who wrote the music for many of her verses He called
 one morning at Miss Crosby's home in 1 New York.
 'T must take a train to Cincinnati
 in 40 minutes and have the music for
 which I want you to write a verse; l he said.
 He sat down at the piano and play 1 ed his music.