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26 POOR SARAH.
me hold my tongue. So I don't say any more, only mourn over him every day 'fore God.
23. "When he die, my heart say, 'Father, thy will be done -- Jesus do all things well. Sarah can't help him now, he be in God's hands; all is well.' So then give my heart all away to Jesus; tell him I be all his; serve him all my life; beg Holy Spirit come fill all my heart, make it all clean and white like Jesus. Pray God help me learn more of his sweet word.
24. "And now, Sarah live poor Indian widow great many long year: always find Jesus friend, husband, brother, all. He make me willin' suffer; willin' live great while in this bad world, if he see best. 'Bove all, he give me great good hope of glory when I die. So now I wait patient till my change comes." 
25. While she was giving this narration, her countenance bore strong testimony to the diversified emotions of her soul. I might greatly swell the list of particulars; but I design only to give the outlines of an example which would have done honor to the highest sphere in life; and which, in my opinion, is not the less excellent, or the less worthy of imitation, because shrouded in the veil of poverty and sorrow. It was evident she meditated much on what little she knew of divine things; and what she knew of God's word was to her like honey and the honeycomb. 
26. She was in the habit of bringing bags of

POOR SARAH. 27

sand into the village, and selling it to buy food. Sometimes she brought grapes and other kinds of fruit. But as she walked by the way, she took little notice of any thing that passed, (except children, whom she seldom passed without an affectionate word of exhortation to be good, say their prayers learn to read God's word, &c., accompanied with a bunch of grapes or an apple -- thus engaging the affection of many a little heart,) but seemed absorbed in meditation; and you might often have observed her hands uplifted, in the attitude of prayer.
27. One day, after having observed her as she came, I asked her how she could bring so heavy loads, old as she was, and so feeble. "O," said she, "when I get great load, then I go pray God give me strength to carry it. So I go on, thinkin' all the way how good God is to give his only Son die for poor sinner; think how good Jesus be, suffer so much for such poor creature; how good Holy Spirit was, come into my bad heart, make it all new: so these sweet thoughts make my mind so full joy, I never think how heavy sand be on my old back." 
28. Here, said I to my heart, learn how to make the heavy load of iron cares easy. One day she passed with a bag of sand. On her return she called on me. I inquired how much Mrs. ---- gave her for the sand. She was unwilling to tell, and I feared she was unwilling lest I should with-

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---------- Reopened for Editing 2023-06-19 11:03:07