--- title: Improvement Era description: Monthly periodical of the Mormon church, 1897 onward. This library holds the issues of November 1897 to December 1930. authors: - Carroll, Elsie Chamberlain collections: - periodicals tags: - magazine - improvement-era periodical: Improvement Era volume: 16 number: 12 published: 1913-10 publisher: Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations publisher_place: Salt Lake City language: en type: magazine reference: "Carroll, Elsie Chamberlain, \"Pap's Mission,\" *Improvement Era* 16, no. 12 (October 1913): 1182–1188." source: url: https://archive.org/details/improvementera16012unse 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: improvementera16012unse start_page: 1182 end_page: 1188 rights: status: public-domain basis: US publication 1930 or earlier (published 1913-10) source: https://archive.org/details/improvementera16012unse publication_year: 1913 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 1913, before 1931; a scan-level notice does not restore copyright. --- # Pap's Mission Pap's Mission BY ELSIE CHAMBERLAIN CARROLL The wind was whirling the flakes of falling snow in great stinging eddies. The streets of L were already white and the feet of the horses drawing the mail coach crunched through a frozen crust. The driver huddled close within his wraps in a vain effort to keep warm. A few people were hurrying along the side- walk toward the post office, their forms bent beneath the storm. A bright light gleamed from the little office window, and as the coach stopped at the gate the outer door opened and Pap Ludwig's cheery face appeared, a warmer glow added to its usual ruddi- ness, by the crackling fire which danced behind him in the big, old- fashioned fireplace. "Good evening, Jim," he greeted the shivering driver, "you're on time in spite of the storm. Here, I'll get the mail-bag; you go in and warm yourself." "Thanks, Pap, I believe I'll let you. I'm as stiff as a board." "Any passengers?" he asked later as he was warming his numbed fingers before the fire, and Pap was fitting the key attached to a long chain into the lock of the mail pouch. "Yes, Davie Forest expects to go. He's leaving for a mission, you know. I guess that's him coming now." Pap opened the door leading into the outer entry. "Good evening, Davie, come in. The mail just got here, so you'll have time to get good and warm while I'm sorting it over." The newcomer entered and crossed to the fireplace, seating himself beside the driver, while Pap proceeded to unlock the mail- bag and empty its contents upon the floor. "I'm breaking the law, boys," the old man chuckled as he began sorting the letters and papers, "letting you stay in the room where I'm looking over the mail. But I've broke it so many times in that particular place on blizzard nights like this that I guess once more won't make much difference." The three chatted on until Pap's task was finished. He placed the mail that was to go on to the other villages into the sack, cancelled the handful of out- going letters, then locked up the pouch again. "Alright, Jim, here you are," he said to the driver, then turned to the other young man with extended hand. "Good bye, Davie, and God bless you. I never had the chance you're having, and there's not a boy leaves L for a mission but I envy him. And here, I almost forgot this." He reached into a pigeon hole and took PAP'S MISSION "Thank you, Pap," the boy said chokingly, and he started to follow the driver to the door. "Why, Davie, where are your overshoes?" asked Pap as his eye happened to rest for a moment on the boy's feet. "My old ones were worse than nothing, and I couldn't find my size in the store, so thought I could get along until I get to C——. They have the post office in the co-op. store there, you know. I guess I can get some there, all right." "But your feet will freeze before you get to C—— a night like this. You get mine in the corner there by the fireplace and put them on." "Oh, no, Pap, I couldn't do that; I'll be all right." "Tut, tut, boy. Do as I tell you." David hesitated a moment, then obeyed. "I'll send them back by Jim," he said. "Don't bother, my boy. Take good care of yourself and make good use of the privilege you are having. Remember such opportunities don't come to us all. Even old Pap Ludwig is still looking forward hopefully to his mission." The old man chuckled as he closed the door behind his young friend and opened the distributing window to the little group in the entry. For awhile he was busy passing out letters and papers and answering enquiries, but finally the little crowd was gone, and he was about to close the window when a woman entered the outer door. "Good evening, Sister Bently," Pap greeted every one in L—— with the kindest familiarity. "How did you manage to get here in the storm? I suppose you are looking for a letter from Sam, but it didn't come tonight." The woman did not hide her disappointment. "He said he would send some money this week, and today's Saturday." "Well, now that's too bad. But it will surely come by Monday. If it doesn't and you are needing it, Sister Bently, I hope you will let me lend it to you until it does come. Remember, your John and I were the warmest friends, and anything I can do for his family is a pleasure." "Thank you, Pap," the woman answered brokenly. "You have already done so much for us that we can never hope to repay you, and I think it will come. Sam has a good job now." "Well, if it doesn't, you must remember that Pap has plenty and is anxious to do you a brotherly turn any time. Good night." * * * * * * * * * "Pap's arrested!" The word spread like wildfire through 1184 IMPROVEMENT ERA the little village. Men stood in serious groups on street corners discussing the news. Women told it to each other over back fences. Even the children stopped in their play and talked of the dreadful fact in awed whispers. Arrrests were almost unheard of in L . Once, in the remote past, a horscthicf had been brought to justice there. Some one else had been dealt with for selling liquor ; and on another occasion a crowd of youngsters had been locked up for a couple of days for disturbing the peace. But for Pap, dear old Pap Ltidwig, whom everybody loved and trusted and went to in time of want or trouble, — for Pap to be arrested — it was unbelievable. For stealing, too ! Pap arrested for stealing a letter containing twenty-five dollars sent by Sam Bently to his mother ! Why, Pap had lent Mrs. Bentley money on many occasions. He had money out among the people most of the time, so it could not have been that need tempted him. If he wanted to steal, why had he not done it in the days of hardship and poverty before the death of his invalid wife? He had the post office then the same as now. These questions and many similar were being asked over and over by Pap's friends. There seemed to be no solution to the mystery, however. The facts remained that Sam Bentley's letter had been traced by government inspectors to Pap's office and there it had disappeared. The day of the trial came. The little court house was packed with the old man's friends. The evidence was presented and the verdict brought in, then the judge asked the prisoner if he had anything to say. Pap, who had sat with bowed head during the proceeding, now raised his haggard face. He had aged years in the few days since his arrest. There was a silence thpobbing with sym- pathy throughout the room. For a moment he hesitated, then staggered to his feet. A sob caught in many a throat as he half tottered across the platform and leaned against the stand. He looked over the faces upturned to him — the faces of his boys and girls — for, though Pap had missed the blessing of natural parenthood, he had within his soul a universal father love which many real fathers lack. After a short pause he began to speak,, and there was the tremor of heartbreak in his voice. "I thought I wouldn't say anything. I thought I couldn't ; it seemed there was nothing to say, as I sat and heard the evi- dence that proved me a thief. You have all heard it, too. Soon you'll hear the sentence that will send me to the penitentiary. I cannot blame the witnesses, nor the jury, nor shall I blame the judge. They are all doing their duty to the law, for I have been proved guilty. I cannot blame any of you for what you may think. I do not ask you to believe me, but though I have been PAP'S MISSION 1185 proved a thief, I swear before you and God that I am innocent." His voice had wavered to a higher pitch and one wrinkled hand was raised above his head. "I never took a penny that didn t belong to me in my life. I swear before heaven that I never saw Sam Bentley's letter." He tottered back to his seat. Smothered sobs sounded all over the room confused with coughing and blow- ing of noses. The judge cleared his throat, wiped his glasses and cleared his throat again before he administered the sentence It was the minimum sentence for such a crime, but it meant three years in the penitentiary— three years and the breaking of an old man s heart. *********** Pap's first days in that great somber cage, were full of be- wilderment. His kindly old eyes had the expression of a child who has suddenly been awakened in a new surrounding lnen bitterness began to stir within him. God must know he was innocent, how could he permit such an injustice? For a while he lio-ht of love and trust which had illumined the old man s life glimmered and flickered as if it must go out and leave his soul in darkness. Fortunately before the last spark had expired, some- hing-perhaps his own misery-caused him to observe the misery about him. With his thoughts turned from himself the man was on safe ground again. Something in the dull, hardened faces to which he was grow- ing accustomed/touched him deeply. The thought cameto ^him that perhaps others, like himself, were suffering unjustly-others of those hopeless, calloused men-and their light had gone out. Even if not innocent they all had once been free, normal, hoping, foxing men. with something to live and strive for Some mistake -and no one but God could really know and judge : it-had sen them there to live through dreary, endless days, robbed of life s object. Their light had gone out. _ Pap's paternal heart went out with a father's yearning love to these boys-misjudged, misunderstood, guilty, perhaps-but boys whose light had gone out. All the misery vanished from his own soul with the coming of a mighty purpose, Pap had found his mission. ******* "TVe been expecting this," the warden spoke slowly, his eyes bent upon a lo^egal document. The guard to whom the words were addressed, looked up enquiringly. "Tt's a oardon for Tap' Ludwig. Of course it s right that he should get ft too" for if the old man was ever guilty he's wiped the page clean before now. But I hate to see him go. He s 1186 IMPROVEMENT ERA done more for the boys than all of us officers and all the ministers we've ever had could do in a lifetime." "You're right there," responded the guard warmly. "He's even got Tige Nickson to reading the Bible, and I haven't had any trouble with Skinny and Buck for months. The boys seem to look upon him as a sort of demigod and they are decent while he is around anyhow. When does he leave?" "Immediately. Go and bring him in now." The guard soon returned with Pap. For a moment after he began to comprehend what was meant by the long paper which the warden handed him,— when he saw the names of his friends and hundreds of others and knew that it meant home and liberty, his face glowed with a new light. He began to speak, then be- came silent and sadly thoughtful. After a few moments he looked up and addressed the warden slowly. "I wish, sir, that you would thank the governor and let it be known that I thank the people whose names are signed here. It would be fine to go home, of course — but — I was sentenced for three years — and — I'll finish my term. I shouldn't like to leave the boys just now." Though the warden and other officials and even the "boys" remonstrated, Pap's decision was final. In writ- ing to his friends at home he stated simply that his mission was not completed and that seemed to settle it. While he had enjoyed unusual liberties before, now no re- strictions whatever were placed upon him, and he spent his time happily among the "boys" rekindling in their souls the light which had gone out. Christmas time was drawing near. Pap knew, as every one who stops to think of it must know, that instead of the spirit of peace and good will wHch Christmas spreads over the land, to those unfortunate beings shut away from home and love and liberty, it could only bring added misery and bitterness. Pap set to work early with the prayerful purpose of bringing something of the true Christmas spirit within those gloomy walls. The officials entered heartily into his plans and for weeks quiet, happy preparations were being made for the external expression of the feelings that were being wrought within. At last the day arrived. In the morning there was a religious service consisting mainly of splendid music from the city. Some of the "boys" gave sentiments and quotations, while the sermon was a simple little talk by Pap himself. It lacked in oratorical style and eloquence, but it was full of human brotherhood and it touched the hearts of those world's outcasts with a spark of the love and hope divine. Then came the sumptuous Christmas dinner. At Pap's re- PAP'S MISSION 1187 quest the time for its consumption was prolonged while a number of officers were present and made the banquet lively with humor- ous stories. In the afternoon they all met to see the Christmas tree. Every one had enjoyed a secret part of the preparation for this portion of the program. Pap reminded them that they were little boys once more, and that if they were good Santa Claus would come and distribute their gifts. How fortunate _ it _ is that we never lose the play instinct ! Even that group of criminals, at the old man's magic words, went back into their childhood days and had another Christmas morning. Santa Claus, who in stature at least, very much resembled the portly warden, now came forward and distributed grotesque toys books, pictures, and tiny stockings filled with apples, nuts and 'candy Each "boy" received a sealed envelope containing loving greetings from Pap and a few choice sentiments such as, "True greatness consists not in never falling but in rising every time you fall." There was also a small card bearing a little code of New Year's resolutions. Then the tree was stripped, there were games and songs and stories, and for a while the mistakes and failures and even the punishments of life were forgotten. Pap went to his room with a warm glow about his heart. Christmas had always been the big day of all the year for him and always as now he had found his happiness in giving it to others, bu" today had been a little fuller than any he had Jm€*n. It was worth so much to see the faces of "his boys for a little time at least, with the traces of hardness and bitterness and deSPaHisa!hogugnhis turned lovingly to the friends in the little home town. He thought of the poor and the sick and the lonely lt was SJcustom to make glad on Christmas day. He hoped they were happy tonight and that the spirit of the Christmas Child hovered over them as it hovered over him and over the somber house Musing thus he began preparing to retire. There was a light tap aUiis door. He opened it to find a large book upon the step Lifting it to the light he discovered it to be a beautiful Brble On the fly leaf was the inscription, "Presented in loving Satkude to Pap by his boys." The old man's eyes grew misty £ the ? sinned 'the namesVt followed written with laborious care ffis hands trembled as he placed it with loving care upon the stand close by his bed. With one hand still upon the book he knelt and thanked God for all his goodness and privileges an especially for the peace and promise and fulness of that Christ mas day. , ,. ___, The next morning Pap was summoned to the reception room 1188 IMPROVEMENT ERA where he was met by two agitated young- men whom he recognize 1 to be Sam Bentley and David Forest, from L . David, his voice choking with emotion, explained their mis- sion. "Yon remember, Pap, that it was a bitter night when I left L for my mission. I had no overshoes, and you insisted on my taking yours. I was going to send them back but could not get any until I got to B , where I stopped off to see my sister. I left them there. "A week ago I returned from my mission and was again at sister's. Sam was in B and came to spend the evening. We got to talking about your being here and how impossible it was to think you were guilty. All at once something made me think of that night, for I remembered that we met Sam's mother on her way to the post office. We figured that the letter should have reached L that night. Suddenly I thought of those over- shoes as they stood in the corner before I put them on. I asked sister where they were. After thinking a few minutes she said she believed they had been put in an upstairs closet. Sam and J with one thought rushed to the closet. We found in one of the shoes what we expected, his letter with the money inside. We started for here the next morning, and we would have been here three days ago, but were stopped by a snow slide. We wanted to take you home for Christmas." The boy's voice choked. "To think after suffering all this time for a mistake you had to spend Christmas here." Pap laid his hand on David's shoulder. "Don't you worry about that, my boy. I'm glad that the letter is found and that I can go home with a clear name, but I wouldn't have missed the privilege of being here for a good deal. When you were start- ing on your mission I envied you. I had never had such a priv- ilege, I thought. But, Davie, I've learned that a man doesn't have to wait to be called for a mission. Missions are waiting all about for men, if they will only look for them. I found mine here. You wouldn't have left Europe until your time was up. I'm glad I stayed with mine. And as for Christmas — I'm thank- ful for that snow slide. It gave me the happiest Christmas I have ever known." [In each number of the Imrovement Era, Vol. 17, a short story will appear. The November number begins the volume.]