Bildungsromans; Feminist fiction; Women -- Employment -- Fiction; Young women -- Fiction
What she said she hardly knew: words came faster than she could utter
them, thoughts pressed upon her, and all the lessons of her life rose
vividly before her to give weight to her arguments, value to her
counsel, and the force of truth to every sentence she uttered. She had
known so many of the same trials, troubles, and temptations that she
could speak understandingly of them; and, better still, she had
conquered or outlived so many of them, that she could not only pity but
help others to do as she had done. Having found in labor her best
teacher, comforter, and friend, she could tell those who listened that,
no matter how hard or humble the task at the beginning, if faithfully
and bravely performed, it would surely prove a stepping-stone to
something better, and with each honest effort they were fitting
themselves for the nobler labor, and larger liberty God meant them to
enjoy.
The women felt that this speaker was one of them; for the same lines
were on her face that they saw on their own, her hands were no fine
lady’s hands, her dress plainer than some of theirs, her speech simple
enough for all to understand; cheerful, comforting, and full of
practical suggestion, illustrations out of their own experience, and a
spirit of companionship that uplifted their despondent hearts.
Yet more impressive than any thing she said was the subtle magnetism of
character, for that has a universal language which all can understand.
They saw and felt that a genuine woman stood down there among them like
a sister, ready with head, heart, and hand to help them help
themselves; not offering pity as an alms, but justice as a right.
Hardship and sorrow, long effort and late-won reward had been hers they
knew; wifehood, motherhood, and widowhood brought her very near to
them; and behind her was the background of an earnest life, against
which this figure with health on the cheeks, hope in the eyes, courage
on the lips, and the ardor of a wide benevolence warming the whole
countenance stood out full of unconscious dignity and beauty; an
example to comfort, touch, and inspire them.
It was not a long speech, and in it there was no learning, no
statistics, and no politics; yet it was the speech of the evening, and
when it was over no one else seemed to have any thing to say. As the
meeting broke up Christie’s hand was shaken by many roughened by the
needle, stained with printer’s ink, or hard with humbler toil; many
faces smiled gratefully at her, and many voices thanked her heartily.
But sweeter than any applause were the words of one woman who grasped
her hand, and whispered with wet eyes:
“I knew your blessed husband; he was very good to me, and I’ve been
thanking the Lord he had such a wife for his reward!”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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