--- title: Improvement Era description: Monthly periodical of the Mormon church, 1897 onward. This library holds the issues of November 1897 to December 1930. authors: - Lucy Y. Taylor collections: - periodicals tags: - magazine - improvement-era periodical: Improvement Era volume: 5 number: 3 published: 1902-01 publisher: Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations publisher_place: Salt Lake City language: en type: magazine reference: 'Lucy Y. Taylor, "In the Providence of God. A Story," *Improvement Era* 5, no. 3 (January 1902): 195–199.' source: url: https://archive.org/details/improvementera0503unse transcription: Transcribed from the Internet Archive scan of each issue (the item for each issue is named in the issue's own source); unnumbered advertising leaves are omitted, printed page numbers are kept as page markers. identifier: improvementera0503unse start_page: 195 end_page: 199 rights: status: public-domain basis: US publication 1930 or earlier (published 1902-01) source: https://archive.org/details/improvementera0503unse publication_year: 1902 note: The Internet Archive item metadata carries a blanket "© Copyright by Intellectual Reserve, Inc." notice. The library owner judged it inapplicable because this issue was published in 1902, before 1931; a scan-level notice does not restore copyright. --- # In the Providence of God. A Story IN THE PROVIDENCE OF GOD, A STORY OF THE NEW YEAR. BY LUCY T. TAYLOR. I. The cold, stormy days of December had swiftly vanished, leaving alike their portions of joy for the young and gay, and sorrow for the poor and aged. Joy for those whose lives were yet free from cares and vexations; sorrow for those on whom time had laid its heavy hand. A few hours more and the Old Year would be with those which had gone before. The usually crowded streets were almost deserted; a few figures were seen here and there wending their way with difficulty to- ward the different churches. Sometimes a cutter would go whizzing by, flinging the fleecy snow aside, as it sped on. The splendid lights in show windows cast sparkling reflections far out into the street, but the passers-by gave little heed to them, as they hurried through the cold. "Yes, as you say, Mr. Parker, it is doubtless a benefit to the soul to attend these meetings; but, as you know, I don't believe much in relig- ion, and when a fellow has so much business to see to, he hasn't time to go to church just to herald the dawn of the New Year; besides that, it brings reflections, which sometimes makes a fellow feel uncomfortable — you see." "That is the idea! Sepple, old fellow," — but the two men halted, inter- rupted hj a lady. The sequel will prove that she was true and noble at heart, but she bore little semblance to a "lady" in these times of fashion and folly, for her clothes were old and shabby, she was weary and feeble her face was thin and pinched with the cold. "Please, sirs," said she, "will you give a poor, homeless, friendless woman a dollar to buy food and shelter on this bitter, cold night?" 196 IMPROVEMENT ERA. Mr. Sepple was about to brush past her, muttering 'something about vagrancy, but Mr. Parker stopped, and, drawing forth his purse, gave her fifteen cents, saying, "That is all I have, lady." She received it with thanks, and looked expectantly to the other who coldly remarked that he had "no change," and passed on, but afterward turned, handing her a quarter. The old lady clutched the coins tightly in her hand, but seemed not to notice them now, nor her intense need of food and shelter. She mut- tered to herself, "Yes, it was he! I am sure it was! But he did not know me. No! no! Oh if he had known — would he, could he have done so? Yes, he is rich, I presume, while I am only a poor woman, desti- tute of food, suffering from cold and without friends!" and she heaved a heavy sigh as she trudged along through the snow. "Oh! that we had not been delayed so long, then I would have had enough money to bring me to him all right. Then, perhaps, 1 could have performed my errand of love," and the sentence died in another sigh which the cold blast caught up; and, moaning and howling, it slashed the frozen snow into her freezing face, whipping and snatching at the thin shawl which enwrapped her benumbed form. II. The chime of church bells heralded the glad news that another year was born. Again people wended their way through the cheerless streets by the light of the waning moon; away to their homes to seek sweet re- pose, or to reflect upon the past,and to make new plans and resolutions for the future, with their disappointments and sorrows, and some, perhaps, stained with unkind words and deeds of sin and shame. Many were the reflections which passed through the mind of Alfred Sepple, as he and two friends walked homeward together. He had a good heart when he allowed it to have its way; but, when associated with others than a small circle of friends, he seemed stern and cold. Now that he had become "sole owner" of a large flouring mill, he gave little thought to any thing other than business affairs, and the enjoyment of his home, and his family, of whom he was passionately fond. Tonight it seemed that a deep sense of life and duty rested upon him. His mind ran back twenty years; yes, more. It took him back perhaps to the first New Year's eve that he could remember. He was then only seven years old, but he remembered very distincly the sweet face of his dear, patient mother, as she smiled and tried to bid him a last farewell, but the angel of death had sealed those white lips before the word was spoken. Then the drear memories of the burial on the beginning of the IN THE PROVIDENCE OF GOD. 197 New Year which seemed so bright to all his playmates but so sad to his boyish heart. Perhaps this was why he had never enjoyed the New Year; perhaps it was why, after many years, when his father married a woman, not so young and beautiful as his own fair mother, he would stand and gaze at the portrait of the one who seemed all in all to him, then looking at the wrinkled face of "Aunt Lib" as he called her, would say to himself, "I hate her." Many years had passed, yet on this particular night, he could not keep back all these memories. He also recalled his father's dying words. They were these — "Alfred, my dear son, be kind to your Aunt Lib, for my sake, for the duty you owe her, and for the love she bears for you, for she does love you. Try to be obedient to the laws of God; seek him in earnest and he will reward you." Had he done this? Certainly he had not. Now he felt a strange apprehension as of some impending evil. Perhaps it was only conscience rewarding him for his dereliction, for there came back, with almost a feeling of fear, the memories of his rebellion against every requirement made of him by his aunt. The thought of how he had repulsed her love, now made him almost repulsive to himself, and he wondered how she stood it as well as she did. Then the thought that maybe she had rejoiced instead of grieved when he ran away and left her, was almost consoling him; where- upon the recollection of his father's imploring words, "Try to be obedi- ent to the laws of God, seek him in earnest, and he will reward you," flashed across him with such force that he reeled an instant, and one of his friends ashed if he were sick, — "or freezing?" joined in the other. "Neither," he exclaimed, regaining his footing in the deep snow; but a grand resolution had found its way into his heart which after-events rooted so deeply that it has never yielded to any temptation. The wind was blowing fiercely,piling the snow in drif ts,flinging frozen jets into their faces, but the three men soon turned the corner of a large mercantile block, and were a little out of the way of the storm. "A little warmer here, how do you feel now, Mr. Sepple?" Mr. Parker asked. "Oh I'm all right," replied the other. Dr. Osmond was making some re- mark about the terrible storm when suddenly Parker cried out, "Hello! What's this?" and almost instantly the doctor shouted, "Some one frozen in the snow!" Shortly afterwards, a policeman was called, an ambulance brought, for sure enough it was the body of a woman lying cold and motionless in the snow. By this time, a small crowd had gathered; the undertaker 198 IMPROVEMENT ERA. had arrived,and was directing movements to have the remains taken to his establishment, when suddenly a bystander screamed, "She's alive! She's alive!" All quickly gathered around, but the police ordered them back. Not until now did Alfred Sepple recognize the shabby clothes and wrinkled face of the old lady whom he and Mr. Parker had passed on their way to the church, nor did he even now remember how he had neg- lected the needs of the poor creature. As there was a decided evidence of life, it was deemed best to take her to the Christian Hospital to be cared for. On being invited by Dr. Osmond to accompany him there, Mr. Sepple accepted with some reluct- ance. III. Into a neat ward in the old hospital, the unknown woman was taken. Willing hands were now busy removing her frozen garments, and chaflng her face and hands, while the physician in charge was exercising all his abilities in administering restoratives. For a time it seemed as if all was vain; but finally she opened her eyes and gazed about in a dim un- conscious manner for several minutes. Once she tried to raise her stif- fened hand, and a severe shiver passed over her entire body. Her breath came short and harsh, and she gasped once or twice; for an in- stant, her hands relaxed, but soon tightened in death, and all was over. The body of the "unknown" lay wrapped in death; but the spirit had found rest "in the hope of eternal life, which God, who cannot lie, prom- ised before the world began." It was a most pitiable sight to see her lying cold and still, her old clothes bespeaking poverty and want. Though old and worn, they were clean and neat, and told of the purity, economy and accomplishments, of the one to whom they had belonged. It was evident that she was a woman of high culture, and not a vagrant, as was at first supposed. "Who is she?" inquired Dr. Grant. "I don't know," returned Dr. Osmond, "but here is the letter you took from her hand when we brought her here; perhaps it will throw some light upon her identity. Dr. Grant took the letter which was written with lead pencil. Being wet and soiled, it was with some difiiculty he read aloud: Minneapolis, Minn., Dec, 31, 18—. Elder Ephraim Wardell, Alexandria, Minn. Dear Brother:— Since I saw you last, I have heard that my dear boy Al, is living in this city. I will not go with your company to Utah. I could not go and leave my boy without seeing him first, and telling him that I forgive him for leaving me so lonely. Oh, nobody but a childless widow can know how I have loved that boy. IN THE PROVIDENCE OF GOD. 199 wanted to tell him about the [Gospel, [for he is a man now. and can understand me better. I was delayed at St. Cloud on account of misunderstandings about my ticket, and in changing cars, and have no money now, but maybe he will help me, if I can only find him. I am in the waiting-room of the depot. I'll come to Utah some time, but must tell my boy all about it first; but now let me say, though this were my last breath, I know the Gospel as revealed to the Prophet Joseph Smith is true; I know God lives, and is just! That he will reward those who seek him in earnestness; that his kingdom will flourish, and that the Latter-day Saints will be victorious. Please don't be disappointed, and believe me Your sister in the Gospel of Christ, Blizabeth Sepple. The name startled Mr. Sepple. "H'ra," said Dr. Grant, "Latter- day Saints be victorious. A 'Mormon,' I presume! Wonder who wants to bury a 'Mormon!' Going to Utah to get a husband, I guess! Oh such out- rage upon society! Too bad she didn't go!" All this time, a confusion of thought had been surging through Mr. Sepple's mind. Regret for the past, sorrow for the present, and reso- lutions for the future. For an instant, he faltered. "If she had not said 'Utah' and 'Saints,' then," thought he, "I could decide at once." "Elizabeth Sepple," continued Dr. Grant, "I wonder who the 'dear boy' is of whom she thinks so much. Some grand person, I should say, who has a 'Mormon' mother! I dare say, he wouldn't own her." "I dare say he will," exclaimed Mr. Sepple, with a determination which showed that he had conquered self, and which stopped the flow of indignant words from Dr. Grant. "Gentlemen," he continued, " that is my stepmother, and 'Mormon* or not, she was a good woman, and would have been a good mother to me if I had permitted her. I was not worthy of a mother. This very night, though I did not know her then, I turned her away with only a quarter, when I should have taken her to my home and provided food for her and shelter from this terrible storm. Oh could she forgive me now if she knew? With God's help, I will make restitution for my con- tinued wrongs." He broke down, and the tears of regret coursed over his manly cheeks. The funeral services were beautiful and touching. With ample explanations accompanying it, "Aunt Lib's" letter was sent to Elder Wardell. Dr. Osmond, being an intimate friend of Mr. Sepple, quietly watched events. Mr. Sepple is now an honored member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, in the ward in which he lives, in Provo City, Utah, and he is still a dear friend to the doctor.