The Poorhouse Waif and His Divine Teacher | Page 4

days were dark for Edwin. There were times when the
children were taken for long walks out in the fields or woods, where the
flowers grew and where the birds sang their sweet songs. Upon such
occasions Edwin's heart would be so filled with gladness that he would
be almost beside himself. Not only the brown and yellow butterflies
gliding hither and thither, lighting now and then upon some pretty
blossom, only to soar away again high above his head as they
discovered him approaching, attracted his attention; but their cousins,
the little black crickets and the green and brown grasshoppers,
springing about him in the meadowlands, made him shout aloud with
delight. Not knowing the true names of the lively little fellows in the
grass, he called them "jumper-men." Sometimes he would catch them
in his hands, but he never thought of hurting them just for fun. And the
turnip-patch! What a treat it was for all the children to pull the pretty

white balls from the earth and to eat them, dirt and all, for it must be
remembered that none of the children had been taught by their
overseers to be clean and neat. It was too great an undertaking for Mrs.
Engler to attend to such minor points. So the turnip just out of the
ground was more of a luxury to Edwin in his half-starved condition
than candy could have been, and candy at the poorhouse was
practically unknown.
Once there was a kind old lady who came to stay for a short time in the
home. From the first she seemed interested in Edwin, and, seeing his
great desire to do the right, she endeavored to help and to encourage
him. She had a son of her own, who once had been small like Edwin,
and she could understand how very hard some things were for Edwin to
bear.
Among the things that the lady taught him to do was to kneel down and
with his little hands folded and in her lap, repeat after her the little
prayer, "Now I lay me down to sleep." But she failed to tell him that it
was praying or what it meant to pray. Neither did she explain that there
was a great God over all, to whom he could tell all his troubles. But
although Edwin did not know the meaning of prayer, there was
something about the words and the repeating of them that he enjoyed,
and long after the dear old lady had gone away from the almshouse, the
words seemed to bring a real comfort and satisfaction to his poor little
hungry soul.
Until the sixth year of Edwin's life he never heard that he had ever had
a father, a mother, or a home other than the place in which he was then
living. He knew only that he existed, and that from day to day there
were many things happening about him, some of which he enjoyed, but
a great many of which were distasteful to him. But all that took place
he quietly endured, thinking that it was the best that there was in life
for him. The fact that some were more favored than he was caused him
no jealous or covetous feelings. He reasoned that it was all right for
them, but for himself it could not be.
During the play-hours when the children were allowed to amuse
themselves outside of the building, Edwin soon discovered that "a soft

answer turneth away wrath, but grievous words stir up anger" (Prov.
15:1). God must surely have taught Edwin the meaning of this proverb;
for the old lady did not mention it in any of her talks, and there was no
one else in that wretched place to tell him.
Many times the childish games were interrupted by the screaming and
the swearing of the people in the insane-apartment. The timid children
would cry out and tremble, but those who were older often tried to
repeat the profane language. All these things, like many others, made
deep impressions upon the sensitive nature of Edwin, and although he
was not afraid, he often pondered them in his heart. Sometimes seated
in a secluded corner he would watch the poor demented creatures with
a pitying gaze, wondering why they talked and acted so strangely, but
whether he could or could not understand them, he studied the sane and
the mad alike, and what he felt was right in the conduct of either he
made his pattern, but the wrong he rejected.
At times during the play-hours the children, overcome by hunger,
would slip around to the large window that opened into the bakery and
there stand gazing wistfully down upon the loaves of fresh bread as
they were taken from the large oven.