Emmy Lou's Road to Grace: Being a Little Pilgrim's Progress

by Howard Roger Garis

  VI

  THE IMPERFECT OFFICES OF PRAYER

  RECRUITING Sunday occurred at Emmy Lou's Sunday school the winter shewas eight. The change to this nature of thing was sudden. Hitherto whenHattie, her best friend, who was Presbyterian, spoke of Rally Day, orSadie, her next best friend, who was Methodist, spoke of Canvassing Day,Emmy Lou of St. Simeon's refrained from dwelling on Septuagesima, orSexagesima, or Quinquagesima Sunday, as the case might be, for fear itappear to savor of the elect. As, of course, if one has been brought upin St. Simeon's, and by Aunt Cordelia, one has begun to feel it does.

  Hattie and Sadie, on the contrary, full of the business and zeal ofRally Day and Canvassing Sunday, looked with pity on Emmy Lou and St.Simeon's, and at thought of Quinquagesima and such kindred Sundays shooktheir heads. Which is as it should be, too.

  For, while there is one common world of everyday school in the firmamentof the week, drawing the Emmy Lous and Hatties and Sadies into the foldof its common enterprise and common fellowship, there are varying worldsin the firmament of Sundays, withdrawing the Emmy Lous and Hatties andSadies into the differing folds of rival enterprises, Hattie to theFirst Presbyterian Church North, Sadie to the Second Avenue M. E. ChurchSouth, and Emmy Lou with no status or bias as to pole at all, if weexcept polemics, to St. Simeon's P. E.

  And each one within her fold is so convinced her fold is the only fold,it is her part to make all others feel this. Which is as it should be,too. And, as Hattie pointed out when Sadie got worsted in being made tofeel it and cried, is only the measure of each one's proper Christianzeal!

  And Hattie, being full of data about her Rally Day, and Sadie, beingfull of grace from her Canvassing Day, were equipped at seemingly everypoint for making another feel it. Whereas when Sadie asked Emmy Lou whatQuinquagesima or fifty days before Easter had to do with saving souls,and Hattie asked her to spell it, Quinquagesima not only died on herlips but she and it seemed indefensibly and reprehensibly in the wrong.Which Emmy Lou endeavored to remember was but a measure of Christianzeal again.

  And now St. Simeon's, awakening to its needs in such zeal, was to have,not a Rally nor yet a Canvassing, but a Recruiting Sunday. For everySunday school with any zeal whatever has a nomenclature of its own andlooks with pity and contumely on the nomenclature of any other Sundayschool. So that Emmy Lou heard with a shock of incredulity that what sheknew as the Infant Class was spoken of by Hattie as the Primary, and bySadie as the Beginners.

  But this department of Sunday school, whatever its designation, belongsto the early stages of faith. Emmy Lou is in the Big Room, now, and herehas heard about St. Simeon's Recruiting Sunday.

  Mr. Glidden, the superintendent, announced it. He was a black-haired,slim, brisk young man. Emmy Lou knew him well. She liked Mr. Glidden. Hecame to see Aunt Louise, and admired her. Week days he was a young manwho was going to do credit to his father and mother. Aunt Cordelia saidso. Sundays, if he let his Christian zeal carry him too far, his bettersat St. Simeon's would have to call him down. Uncle Charlie who was awarden at St. Simeon's said so, curtly, in a way most disturbing.

  In announcing Recruiting Sunday, Mr. Glidden spoke with feeling. "In thebusiness-run world of today," he told his Sunday school, "St. Simeon'smust look at things in a business way. What with Rally Day andCanvassing Day in the other Sunday schools, St. Simeon's stands nochance. Emulation must be met with emulation. Let St. Simeon's get outand work. And while it works,"--Mr. Glidden colored; he was young--"letit not forget it shall be its Superintendent's earnest and also dailyprayer that it be permitted to bring even the least of these into thefold."

  Furthermore, there should be inducements. "For every new scholar broughtin," said Mr. Glidden, "there shall be an emblazoned card. For everyfive emblazoned cards there shall be a prize. Cards and prizes I shalltake pleasure in giving out of my own pocket."

  In the light of after events, as Emmy Lou grasped them, the weakness inthe affair lay in Mr. Glidden's failure sufficiently to safeguard hisprayer.

  Emmy Lou had considerable data about prayer, gathered from her twofriends, Hattie being given to data, and Sadie being given to prayer. AsHattie expounded prayer as exemplified through Sadie, one fact standsparamount. You should be specifically certain in both what you ask andhow you ask it. For the answer can be an answer and yet be calamitoustoo. Hattie used the present disturbing case with Sadie for her proof.

  Sadie and her brother decided they wanted a little sister, and wouldpray for one. They did pray, fervently and trustfully, being Methodists,as Hattie pointed out, night after night, each beside her or his littlewhite bed. And each was answered. It was twin little sisters. Sincewhen, Sadie was almost as good as lost to her two friends, throughhaving to hold one little sister while her mother held the other.

  "You've got to make what you want clear," Hattie argued. "They bothprayed for a little sister at the same time. If they'd prayed, Sadie onenight, and Anselm the next, or if they'd said it was the same littlesister, they wouldn't 'a' had a double answer and so been oversupplied."

  Sadie was torn with conflict over it herself. Her little sisters weren'tjustified to her yet, but she wasn't going to admit they might not stillbe, though the strain on her Christian zeal was great.

  For at Sadie's Sunday school you did not get a prize for the newscholars you brought in on Canvassing Day. You got a prize when the nextCanvassing Day came around, if they were still there. And Canvassing Daywas nearly here again, and her scholars were failing her.

  "It's no easy thing to be a Methodist," she said in one of her momentsof respite from a little sister, talking about it with pride through hergloom. "You work for all you get! When I could look my scholars up everyweek, and go by for 'em with Tom and the barouche when the weather wasbad, I had them there for roll-call every Sunday. But now that I have tohold my little sisters and we haven't Tom or the barouche either becauseon account of my little sisters we can't afford them, they've backslidand dropped out."

  Hattie had data as to that, too. "You needn't be so bitter about it,Sadie. I know you mean me! You went around and picked your scholars upanywhere you could find 'em, and I did too. It wasn't as if any one of'em had a call to your Sunday school. Or as if they had a conviction.Except Mamie Sessums whose conviction took her away."

  Sadie spoke even more bitterly. "You needn't count on Mamie. Becauseshe had had a conviction that took her away from where she was, Icounted on her the most of any of mine."

  Hattie was positive. "But the conviction she has now took her away fromyours. Her mother thinks there is too much about falling from grace atyour Sunday school; she doesn't think it nice for little girls to hearso much about sin."

  "She wouldn't have fallen from grace herself if I could have kept afterher," from Sadie. "If I hadn't to hold my little sisters Mamie wouldn'tbe a backslider now. But my little sisters will be justified to me yet.I'm not going back on prayer."

  It all emphasized the need of exceeding caution in prayer. Emmy Lounever had thought of it so. Time was, in fact, when, praying her "GentleJesus," at Aunt Cordelia's knee, she poured it out in Aunt Cordelia'slap, so to speak, and left it there. Not that Aunt Cordelia had notmade her understand that prayer goes to God. But that Aunt Cordelia whoattended to everything else for her would see about getting it there.

  But that was when Emmy Lou was a baby thing, and God the nebulous centerof a more nebulous setting, with the kindly and cheery aspect as well asthe ivory beard of---- Was it Dr. Angell, the rector of St. Simeon's? Orwas there in the background of Emmy Lou's memory a yet more patriarchalface, reverent through benignity, with flowing ivory beard? A memoryantedating her acquaintance with Dr. Angell? She was a big girl now, andGod was not quite so nebulous nor quite so cheery. His ivory beard waslonger, and in the midst of nebulae for support was a throne. But He yetcould be depended on to be kindly. Aunt Cordelia was authority for that.

  Her concept of prayer, too, had moved forward; prayer in her mind's eyenow taking the form of little white cocked-hat _billets-dou
x_ wingingout of the postbox of the heart, and, like so many white doves, speedingup to the blue of Heaven. If God was not too busy, or too bothered, asgrown people sometimes are on trying days, she even could fancy Himsmiling pleasantly, if absently, as grown-up people do, when thecocked-hat _billets-doux_, a sort of morning mail, were brought in toHim.

  And so she was glad that Sadie was not going back on prayer, but wassure that her little sisters would be justified to her. Indeed, herheart had gone out to Sadie about it, and she had sent up _billets-doux_of her own, and would send more, that the little sisters should bejustified to her.

  But from this new point of view supplied by Hattie, the winging_billets-doux_, as in the mind's eye they sailed upward, seemed todroop a little, weighted with the need of exceeding caution in prayer.And in the light of this revelation God in His aspect changed once more,again gaining in ivory beard and in throne what He again lost in cheer.

  Long ago Aunt Cordelia used to rock her to sleep with a hymn. Emmy Louhad thought she knew its words, "Behind a frowning providence, He hidesa smiling face." Could she have reversed it? She had been known to dosuch things before. All this while had it been saying: "Behind a smilingprovidence, He hides a frowning face?"

  At Emmy Lou's own home Aunt M'randy the cook, like Hattie, seemed tofeel that prayer not sufficiently set around with safeguards andspecifications could prove a boomerang. "Didn't I w'ar myse'f out withprayer to get rid er that no-account nigger house-boy Bob? To hev' thetprayer swing eroun' with this worse-account house-boy, Tom?"

  Tom had gone to Hattie's house from Sadie's where they no longer couldafford to have him, but he had not stayed there. He didn't get alongwith the cook. From there he came to be house-boy for Aunt Cordeliawhere Bob couldn't get along with the cook. Tom's idea of his importanceapparently was in the number of places he had lived, and hisqualifications he summed up in a phrase: "I ca'ies my good-will with meto the pussons I wuks foh."

  The morning after Recruiting Sunday had been announced at St. Simeon'sSunday school, Uncle Charlie spoke of it at the breakfast table. Hedidn't seem to think much of it, and referred to it by another name,calling it an innovation.

  Aunt Louise, on the contrary, defended it. She was teaching in theSunday school now. "If everyone would show the energy andprogressiveness of Mr. Glidden since he took the Sunday school," shesaid with spirit, "St. Simeon's would soon look up."

  "Glidden!" said Uncle Charlie. "Willie Glidden! Pshaw!"

  "Why you speak of him in that tone I don't see, unless it is because youare determined to oppose every innovation he proposes."

  "I oppose his innovations?" heatedly. "On the contrary I am in favor ofgiving him his way so he may hang himself in his innovations thesooner." And Uncle Charlie, getting up to go downtown, slammed the door.

  Which would have been astounding, Uncle Charlie being jocular and notgiven to slamming doors, had it not to do with that one of the manyworlds in the firmament of the Sundays, St. Simeon's. Emmy Lou was gladshe understood these things better now. For persons altogether amiablein the affairs of the week-days to grow touchy and heated over theaffairs of Sundays is only a measure of their Christian zeal. There wascomfort and reassurance in the knowledge. Time was when it would havefrightened her to have Uncle Charlie slam the door, and made her chokeover her waffle, and sent her down from her chair and round to AuntCordelia for comfort and reassurance.

  Aunt Louise, addressing herself to Aunt Cordelia in her place behind thecoffeepot, still further defended Mr. Glidden.

  "He is even waking dear old Dr. Angell a bit. Not that we don't love Dr.Angell as he is, of course," hastily, "but he does lackprogressiveness."

  "Which may be why some of us do love him," said Aunt Cordelia tartly.Aunt Cordelia! Pleasant soul! Who rarely was known to sacrifice goodtemper even to Christian zeal! Emmy Lou choked on her waffle despiteall! "But don't draw me into it! I decline to take sides."

  "Which means, of course, that you've taken one," said Aunt Louise. "Asif I could ever expect you to side with me against Brother Charlie."

  "And if I do agree with Charlie, what then? To have the running of St.Simeon's passed over his head to Willie Glidden! The church our owngrandfather gave the ground for! And he the senior warden who has runSt. Simeon's his way for thirty faithful years!"

  And Aunt Cordelia, getting up from behind the coffeepot and going towardthe pantry to see about the ordering, broke forth into hymn, as was herway when ruffled. Emphatic hymn. And always the same hymn, too, AuntCordelia, like Uncle Charlie, objecting to innovations. Emmy Lou waslong familiar with this hymn as barometer of Aunt Cordelia's state ofbeing:

  "Let the fiery, cloudy _pillow_,"

  sang Aunt Cordelia, flinging open the refrigerator door.

  What it meant, a fiery, cloudy pillow, further than that Aunt Cordeliawas outdone, was another thing. Emmy Lou always intended to ask, but thevery fact that Aunt Cordelia only sang it when outdone prevented--thatand the additional fact that when Aunt Cordelia was outdone Emmy Lou indistress of mind was undone.

  Aunt Louise waited until Aunt Cordelia, who could be seen through theopen doorway, straightened up from her inspection of the refrigerator."Still," she said, "you won't object that I entered Emmy Lou's name atSunday school yesterday as a recruiter? To try her best and get aprize?"

  "I do object if there are tickets about it," emphatically. "You can takecare of them for her if so. Willie Glidden has gone mad over tickets.What with her blue tickets for attendance one place in my bureaudrawer, and her pink tickets for texts in another place, I won't bebothered further."

  Yet what were Sunday schools without tickets? Emmy Lou getting down fromthe breakfast table, her still unfinished waffle abandoned for all timenow, was dumbfounded. The one thing common to all Sunday schools wastickets. Though St. Simeon's under the accelerating progressiveness ofMr. Glidden had gone further, and whereas in ordinary your accumulatedtickets for every sort of prowess only got you on the honor roll, amatter of names on a blackboard, Mr. Glidden had instituted what hecalled "a drawing card." At St. Simeon's, now, when your blue ticketsfor attendance numbered four--or five those months when the calendarplayed you false and ran in another Sunday--you carried these back andgot the Bible in Colors, a picture at a time. And, incidentally, a colorat a time, too. Emmy Lou had a gratifying start in these, last monthhaving achieved a magenta Daniel facing magenta lions in a magenta den,and this month adding a blue David with a blue sword cutting off thehead of a not unreasonably bluer Goliath.

  Pink tickets grow more slowly. Aunt Cordelia said that she could see toit that Emmy Lou got to Sunday school, but she could only do her bestabout the texts.

  And she did do her best, Emmy Lou felt that she did.

  "Say the text over on the way as you go," Aunt Cordelia had said to heras she started only yesterday. "That way you won't forget it before youget there."

  And she had said it on the way, and had said it in the class, too, whencalled on by Miss Emerine.

  Aunt Cordelia, plump and pleasant soul, had ways of her own, and EmmyLou in ways even beyond the plumpness was modeled on her. Aunt Cordeliasaid "were" as though it were spelled w-a-r-e, and Emmy Lou said it thatway too.

  "'And five ware wise, and five ware foolish,'" Emmy Lou told MissEmerine.

  "Five what?" Miss Emerine asked, which was unfortunate, this being whatEmmy Lou had failed to remember.

  It was Tom, the new house-boy, who really started Emmy Lou's recruitingfor St. Simeon's. Hearing Aunt Louise ask her what she was doing aboutlooking up new scholars, he volunteered his help.

  "There's a li'l girl up the street whar I wuked once is thinkin' aboutchangin' her Sunday school. I'll tell her to come aroun' an' see you."

  The little girl came around promptly. It was Mamie Sessums. Emmy Louknew her at week-day school. Far from being without a conviction, asHattie had claimed, she now had two.

  "My mother says Tom don't do anything but try to have her change mySunday school. He lived with us before he we
nt to live at Sadie's. Butshe says she's very glad to have me stop Hattie's and go with you. Shedidn't send me there to have the minister go by our house every day andnever come in. Sadie's minister never came to call on her when I went tothat Sunday school either. Do you have tickets at your Sunday school?"

  Tickets were vindicated. Emmy Lou hurried upstairs and came back withall her trophies of this nature. Mamie seemed impressed by the Bible inColors.

  "You get them a picture at a time," Emmy Lou explained. "The first oneis Adam in buff."

  "Buff?" said Mamie doubtfully.

  "Buff," repeated Emmy Lou firmly, since it was so, and not to be helpedbecause Mamie didn't seem to like it. "My Uncle Charlie says so."

  But it was only lack of familiarity with buff on the part of Mamie. As aprize, it impressed her. "I'll meet you on your church steps onRecruiting Sunday," she said.

  After Mamie left, Emmy Lou went around to see Hattie. "Don't let it makeyou feel bad, taking Mamie away from me," Hattie told her. "I neverexpected anything else. When it's not a call, nor even a conviction,they're like as not to fail you on the very doorstep."

  Sadie, at her window holding a little sister, waved to Emmy Lou andHattie on the sidewalk. It was hard Sadie couldn't be with her friendsany more. Emmy Lou sent up a _billet-doux_ that the little sisters mightbe justified to Sadie yet. Poor Sadie!

  It was Tom who told Emmy Lou where to go for her next recruit. She hadno idea it would be so easy. Sadie had worked hard for all she got butit didn't seem hard to Emmy Lou. "There's a li'l girl roun' on PlumStreet where I wuked once, too. I'll speak to her, an' then you go roun'an' see her."

  With Aunt Cordelia's permission, Emmy Lou went around. It proved thatshe knew this little girl at school, too. Her name was Sallie Carter.She was the richest little girl in the class and said so. Her curlsshone like Aunt Cordelia's copper hot-water jug, and her skirts stoodout and flaunted.

  Sallie had convictions too. She had tried Sadie's Sunday school whileher own church was being rebuilt, and she was just about through tryingHattie's.

  "My mother thinks it's strange that Tom should be sending you after metoo. Though he did live with us before he lived with any of you. She issurprised at some of the little girls who go to Sadie's Sunday school.And after she took me away they were the first little girls I met on thesteps at Hattie's Sunday school. My mother says I'm a Carter on one sideand a Cannon on the other, and everybody knows what that means. We'rehigh church and you are low, but she's glad to have me go with you toSt. Simeon's for a while and try it. Do you have tickets?"

  Tickets and more, the Bible in Colors. Emmy Lou, explaining it, feltagain she couldn't sufficiently uphold tickets to Aunt Cordelia.

  The very next day Tom came to Aunt Cordelia and said if she would letEmmy Lou go with him to Mr. Schmit's when he went to get the ice, heknew of some other little girls who might be persuaded to go to herSunday school. At Aunt Cordelia's word, Emmy Lou got her hat and joinedTom with his basket.

  The accustomed place to get extra ice before Tom came was Mr. Dawkins'at the corner. But Tom wouldn't hear of going to Mr. Dawkins'. Heargued about it until Aunt Cordelia gave in. He said he used to livewith Mr. Schmit and drive his wagon.

  Emmy Lou knew Mr. Schmit herself. Tom, after an inquiry at the counter,took her through the store to the back yard where he left her, a backyard full of boxes and crates and empty coops. Mr. Schmit's little girlLisa was here with a baby brother in her arms, and another holding toher skirts, Yetta, her little sister, and Katie O'Brien from next doorcompleting the group. Emmy Lou knew Lisa and Katie at school, too.Lisa's round cheeks were mottled and red, and the plaits hanging downher back were yellow. She did not seem overly glad to see Emmy Louthough she came forward.

  "Well?" she said.

  It made it hard to begin. And even after Emmy Lou had explained that shehad come to get them to go to Sunday school Lisa was unmoved.

  "What do we want to go to Sunday school for? If we wanted to go toSunday school we'd be going. We go to our grandfather's in the countrynow on Sundays. That way we get a ride in my papa's grocery wagon and weget to the country too."

  "But if you would," urged Emmy Lou, "it would get me a prize."

  "Sure I see," said Lisa. "I see that. But if Katie here and Yetta and megive up our ride out to my grandfather's, what do we get?"

  "Oh!" said Emmy Lou, and hastened to set forth St. Simeon's largesse andsystem in tickets.

  "What do we do to get the tickets?" asked Lisa. "We're Lutheran andKatie's Dominican. I don't know as we'd be allowed to. We wouldn't mindfour Sundays and get a picture, would we, Katie?"

  Katie, whose hair was black and whose eyes were blue, agreed.

  "Sure, we'd like a picture. But I don't know as they'd let me at home.They said I shouldn't go to no more Sunday schools. The little girl whowas sassy to us and said they didn't want us there was at two Sundayschools we've been to now."

  "Still," said Lisa, "we'd like a picture. Which one is your Sundayschool?"

  When Emmy Lou rejoined Tom, she was overjoyed. "And they'll meet me onthe church steps too. All of 'em will meet me on the church steps, Mamieand Sally and Lisa and Yetta and Katie."

  And now it was Recruiting Sunday. But the shortness of manner with whichAunt Cordelia tied Emmy Lou's hair-ribbons was not on account of this,Recruiting Sunday for her having taken its place among the minor evils.Late on Saturday evening she had lost Tom, a case again of thehouse-boy not getting on with the cook.

  "After I wore myse'f out with prayer to git rid of thet no-account Bob,to have thet prayer swing aroun' with this worse-account Tom," was AuntM'randy's explanation of the disagreement.

  "They want me over at Sadie's house tomorrow, anyway," Tom said withfeeling as he went. "'Count of their grandfather walkin' in on 'em f'omKansas City sudden there's big doin's hurried up about the twins.They're goin' to have a barouche roun' f'om the livery stable too, an'they want me to drive."

  Then Tom became darkly cryptic. "I tol' you when I come, I ca'ies mygoodwill with me to the pussons I wuks foh."

  And now it was Sunday morning and no house-boy. "Charlie," said AuntCordelia to this person, "I wish you'd walk around to the Sunday schooldoor with Emmy Lou. She's never been so far alone. Louise is not ready,and she's to meet all those children on the church step where they'll bewaiting for her, and thinks she ought to be early."

  "Surely," said Uncle Charlie. "I'm glad to. I've an idea it's about timefor Willie Glidden to be hanging himself in some of his innovations."

  At the corner Uncle Charlie and Emmy Lou met Tom coming back towardsSadie's with the barouche from the livery stable. One felt Tom saw them,though he looked the other way.

  At the second corner they met Sally Carter. Her curls shone like AuntCordelia's copper hot-water jug, and her skirts stood out and flaunted.She stopped when Emmy Lou stopped, but with reluctance, since it waspalpable she was in a hurry.

  "I've decided I didn't treat Sadie right. My name's still on her roll.Those little girls my mother didn't want me to associate with at theother Sunday schools were on your church steps, anyway, and she wouldn'twant me to stay."

  At the next corner they met Lisa and Yetta and Katie, scoured andbraided and in their Sunday dresses. They didn't want to stop either,palpably being in even a greater hurry.

  "As long as we're goin' to Sunday school we think well go back to theone we started from," said Lisa. "That sassy little girl our motherssaid we shouldn't put up with was on your church steps anyhow, and wassassy to us some more."

  At St. Simeon's itself they met Mamie. "I didn't want to wait, but Ifelt I ought to. I'm going back to Sadie's, and I'm late. Tom called tous here on the steps as he went by in the barouche, and said Sadie'slittle twin sisters were going to be baptized at her church right afterSunday school."

  "Which," said Uncle Charlie the while his Emmy Lou swallowed tears,"hangs Willie Glidden neatly in his own innovations."

  When Sadie and Hattie and Emmy Lou met at school the next da
y, Sadie'seyes were bright and her face shone. Why not? As she pointed out, herlittle sisters were justified to her, her erring scholars were returned,her grandfather said he'd see to it that they _could_ afford to have Tomback and the barouche too, and it all went to prove the efficacy ofprayer.

  It would seem to. That is, of Sadie's prayer. Emmy Lou could see that.She indeed had sent up _billets-doux_ in Sadie's behalf herself. But itdid not explain everything.

  "Mr. Glidden at my Sunday school prayed too, that the least of these bebrought into the fold."

  Hattie forgot her own right to grievance in the joy of this additionaldata in support of her position. Had she not claimed that an answer toprayer can be an answer and yet be calamitous too?

  "Exactly," said Hattie. "'The least of these into the fold.' But hedidn't say which fold!"

  Did not say which fold? To God who knows everything? For Mr. Gliddenmeant his fold. Hattie, then, was right?

  The concepts of Emmy Lou, eight years old, a big girl now, moved onagain. Behind a smiling providence God hides a frowning face. And thosewinging _billets-doux_, already weighted with caution and now heavy withdoubt, in the mind's eye faltered, hung, and came fluttering, drifting,so many falling white doves, wings broken, down from the blue.