--- title: Improvement Era description: Monthly periodical of the Mormon church, 1897 onward. This library holds the issues of November 1897 to December 1930. authors: - Horne, J. Arthur collections: - periodicals tags: - magazine - improvement-era periodical: Improvement Era volume: 28 number: 9 published: 1925-07 publisher: Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations publisher_place: Salt Lake City language: en type: magazine reference: "J. Arthur Horne, “God’s Debt,” *Improvement Era 28, no. 9 (July 1925)*: 840–849." source: url: https://archive.org/details/improvementera2809unse 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: improvementera2809unse start_page: 840 end_page: 849 rights: status: public-domain basis: US publication 1930 or earlier (published 1925-07) source: https://archive.org/details/improvementera2809unse publication_year: 1925 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 1925, before 1931; a scan-level notice does not restore copyright. --- # God’s Debt GODS DEBT The Improvement Era Prize Jubilee Story By J. Arthur Horne "You seem to have been very successful since your return from your mission, Harvey," said the bishop, drawing his chair nearer the table and picking up the check which Harvey Gibbs had just laid down. "Yes," returned the young man, "I have been successful, and I ought to be. I spent more than two years in the Lord's service and since my return I have been presi- dent of the Young Men's Mutual Improvement Association. I think the Lord owes me a little some- thing; don't you think so?" The bishop frowned. "I've never looked at it in just that way, Harvey. It seems to me that when a young man goes on a mission he gets more out of it than anyone else; besides, you baptized five or J. Arthur Horne six people, I believe." "Seven," corrected the young man. "But that does not help me particularly. You promised me before I went away that if I would go, the Lord would bless me." "And he has blessed you," returned the bishop quickly. "Just look at this — a tithing check for a thousand dohars. And your Mutual work brought you into contact with Nellie Taylor, one of the sweetest girls I have had the privilege of knowing. You never would have won her for your wife had you not been active in Church work, you realize that, don't you?" "Don't misunderstand me, Bishop Mulroy. I have been blessed. In three years I have established a business worth $35,000. Of course, I am proud of my wife and baby, too. Other men also have their wives and babies. Perhaps Nellie didn't do so badly, she has her own car, you know. I merely mentioned the fact that I expect the Lord to bless me because I have tried to be a faithful servant to him." "Well, I hope the Lord doesn't pay me all off here. I'd like a little coming when I pass to the other side." The bishop leaned back in his chair and looked at the young man quizzically. GOD'S DEBT 841 He had known Harvy Gibbs practically all the young man's life. He had watched him grow up clean and straight in spite of the fact that Harvey had spent three years of his youth on a cattle ranch in Wyoming. It was the knowledge he had gained there that had stood him in such good stead since he had started in business for himself. On his return from his mission he had opened a butcher shop. It had been a success from the start and had grown until he had several clerks employed to wait on his customers, while he spent most of his time buying calves and beeves for his slaughter pens on the West Side. From slaughtering the animals for his own market, he had expanded into a wholesale meat business by selling his surplus to other shops. A few days before our story opens he had sold out his retail business for $10,000 and was now in the home of his bishop handing the latter a check for one thousand dollars as his tithing on the proceeds of the sale. He was a young man of good appearance, with fair, wavy hair and blue eyes and a very determined chin. Already he was begin- ning to have the air about him of the successful business man. He had done a splendid work in the Mutual Improvement Association, and the bishop was trying, now, as he looked at his visitor, not to allow any thought to intrude itself into his mind that would discount Harvey's good work in that organization. "Oh, of course," said the young man, waving his hand airily, "we all hope to have something coming over there, but I'm not worry- ing about that now. I expect a little something here." "You may be sure, Harvey," the bishop spoke slowly and deliber- ately, "If the Lord owes you anything he'll pay the debt. I only hope you don't expect too much." "No, I don't expect the Lord to hand it to me on a silver platter. I know that I must work, and work hard if I am going to succeed." The young man arose and picked up his hat from the table. "I guess I'll be moving on toward home." They bade each other good-night, and the visitor took his departure. When the door had closed behind Harvey Gibbs? Bishop Mulroy picked up the check from where he had laid it on the table and looked it over thoughtfully. "Thirty-five thousand dollars in three years," muttered the bishop in an awed tone. "It's more than I have made in twenty years. And he thinks the Lord still owes him something. Well! well!" he repeated, carefully stowing away the check in his pocket book, "it's a strange world we live in." For some time thereafter Harvy Gibbs attended faithfully to his duties in the Church. He and his young wife and baby girl were often at sacrament meetings, and anyone could see that the father fairly adored his child. Then the mother and babe were absent for awhile, to reappear with another tiny infant to receive a name and a blessing at the hands of the bishop. Then one bright June day the bishop noticed Nellie and the children come into the meeting alone. 842 IMPROVEMENT ERA "Harvey had to go to Spanish Fork to see about some cattle," she explained to the bishop, when he shook hands with her. "We expect him back tomorrow." Nellie's dark eyes looked into the kindly grav ones of the bishop and he saw that she was troubled. "There is nothing unusual in a man's being away on business and failing to get back for the Sabbath," he said reassuringly. "But it doesn't seem just right to be doing things like that on Sunday. He only left yesterday." She looked down at her baby's head as she spoke and began to smooth the downy hair over his tiny scalp. "Perhaps he had to accomodate his time to suit the other man," he said, gently pinching the tip of little Dorothy's ear as she sat beside her mother. "We must not judge him hastily." "There are other cattle to be bought," she retorted, and her dark eyes flashed up into his face for just a second. "Oh, yes, of course, but Harvey is a fine man. I don't think he intended any harm." "Perhaps not," she conceded, and the bishop passed on to greet some other arrivals. Nellie came from an old family that had been with the Church almost from its beginning, and the roots of her faith were firmly en- trenched in the soil of the gospel. Any deviation from the straight and narrow road was looked upon with alarm. Though strict, she was warm-hearted and forgiving. Such women exercise a powerful influence over their husbands and among their associates in life. The bishop counted on her to keep Harvey in the line of his duty. When, however, Harvey began to absent himself from his Mutual Improvement Association meetings the bishop took occasion to run out to see him at his place of business. He was quite surprised at the large brick structure which loomed up before him as he drew near. At the rear were a number of corrals in which cattle were lowing. He got out of his car and walked back among the animals. On one side were long pens for housing hogs and sheep. Some men were unloading hay in the farther pens, while near at hand the cattle were being prodded into a long chute which led directly into the rear of the building. Being of a rather tender nature, the bishop did not go in to the killing floor but went around to the front door and entered the office. Harvey rose from his desk and gave the bishop a hearty greeting. "Thought I'd like to come and see how you're getting on," said the bishop and smiled affably as he took the proffered chair. "I don't owe a cent on it," returned the young business man wav- ing his hand in the general direction of the surrounding plant. "Not bad for only seven years in the business, is it?" "I should say not," returned the bishop with emphasis. "I'm glad the Lord has done this for you, Harvey. You see, I'm jealous for my Master to pay off his obligations." Harvey's face clouded for GODS DEBT 843 a moment, but it was rather the thought that the bishop was under- rating the part he had played in the building of his enterprise, than that he detected a note of sarcasm in the good man's words. The moment did not seem propitious to mention the Mutual Improvement work, so the bishop decided to say nothing about it, just then. "I've put a good deal of hard work into this thing, I can tell you, Bishop Mulroy. Some nights I don't get away much before midnight. It's a hard game to play with a lone hand like I have done, but I've won out, and before long I can sit back and let the other fellows do the work." He sat down at his desk and pulled out a sheaf of papers. "I'm having cattle shipped from Montana, Colorado, Idaho, and Wyoming as well as from our own state." He spread the papers out on the desk before his visitor as he spoke and the bishop could se;' that they were shipping bills from various points in the surrounding states. "When we open up new territory I go myself and see the principal cattle and sheep men and hog raisers. I buy everything for cash down and turn the animals into beef, mutton, and pork almost as fast as they reach the plant. The cooling rooms take care cf the surplus and when the market gets a little slack, I ease up on the buy- ing. The way I'm working it now, I can't lose. With the start I've got the business is bound to grow." His face was flushed with pride as he spoke. "I expect you'll be a millionaire before you're through, Harvey," returned the bishop with a little sigh. Harvey gathered up his sheaf of papers and returned them to the desk. "Would you like to go through the plant, Bishop?" he asked. "I've been out to the pens and around the outside. The smell is just a little off color for me," the bishop excused himself. "We might just step into the cooling rooms, if you like." The bishop assented and they went together along a short hallway and entered through a great thick doorway. They felt the cool air fan their cheeks as they entered the room. Row after row of beeves cut in half hung from the heavy beams overhead, while strung in rows about the room were ammonia pipes, frost-covered, which preserved the meat until it was ready to go on the market. "This room holds nearly six hundred beeves," explained the guide, "and we have another one equally as large. We expect to add other rooms, as the growth of the business demands it." The bishop was impressed. That Harvey Gibbs possessed keen business acumen could not be denied, but in his heart the bishop credited all good things to the Giver of life, and whatever of success Harvey Gibbs attained there was at least one person who would give God the credit. "Nellie will, too," he thought as he climbed into his car and started for home. More and more Harvey neglected his ward duties, as his business grew. Bishop Mulroy's counselors urged upon him the need of a 844 IMPROVEMENT ERA reorganization of the Young Men's Mutual Improvement Association, time and again, but each time the bishop deferred action. Then one morning his wife handed to him a letter which had come in the mail. The bishop opened it and read: "Dear Bishop Mulcoy — My business demands so much of my attention thai I have been compelled to neglect some of my othir duties. I feel that the best interests of the Mutual Improvement Association requires my resig- nation. There are many men in the ward who, I am sure, can accomplish much more than I can in my position, and I, therefore, request that I be released from my position. "Sincerely, "Harvey Gibbs." When the bishop read the letter to his counselors they received it gladly, but the bishop was profoundly shaken. He loved the young man and wanted to see him remain true to the faith of his parents. He knew that it would be a great shock to Nellie if her husband would now give it up. She had clung to the position Harvey held in the Ward Mutual as the anchor which should keep him active in the Church. One other thing she and the bishop counted on in their many little conversations together was the great love which existed between Harvey and his little daughter, Dorothy. Once more the bishop journeyed out to the packing plant on the West Side. Many workmen were busy enlarging the plant as the bishop came up. He found Harvey engaged with several men in his office and had to wait his turn for an audience. When he was admitted he drew from his pocket Harvey's letter and laid it on the table before its author. "This comes as a great shock to me, Harvey. It is the last remaining position you hold in the Church work. It seems to me the Lord has overpaid you, if your time is to be entirely taken up with caring for your worldly goods." "Bishop, you've thrown that up to me half a dozen times, and I have kept my mouth shut. It was just a silly remark of an inex- perienced youth. I don't think the Lord cared whether I succeeded in this business or not. If a man has it in him to succeed, he'll get ahead in spite of everything; if he hasn't, he might as well quit before he begins, because he'll be a failure anyhow." The bishop regretted that he had come at such a time to talk this matter over with Harvey. He had evidently been having a strenuous day and was in no humor to talk over religious themes. "You had never intimated to me that you had changed your ideas on that subject, or I should never have mentioned it again. In spite of what you say, however, I am glad that you acknowledge that God has paid his debt to you." "I have changed my ideas; yes. Take a man like yourself. Bishop. You devote a great deal of your time to your religious duties, but what do you get from it? The love of your associates, perhaps, but you lose in a business way. I could give you several pointers on GOD'S DEBT 845 your own business — but that is neither here nor there. The point I wish to make is this; take my own business, for instance. I send out a man to buy cattle. Nine chances out of ten he'll be a failure — he lacks judgment. Once in awhile I find one who can put it over. I keep him as long as I can. It's all a matter of judgment, and being on the job all the time." Harvey spoke in abrupt sentences, but in spite of his seeming confidence the bishop detected little lines of worry appearing about the corners of his eyes and mouth. A few gray hairs were showing about his ears, too. "Harvey, you could probably give me some pointers about the conduct of my business, some of which I can anticipate, but I would probably not change my methods, even if I knew it meant more money to me." The packer looked up quickly into the other's face. "I could probably give you some pointers that would add to your span of life and to its real enjoyment while it lasts; that would give Nellie and the children much more happiness than dollars will ever do, but you would doubtless return the compliment, and say, 'I do not care to change my methods'." "Bishop, I can't," he said in a kindlier tone. "I'm so deep in this that I've got to keep on or lose everything. Heretofore we have sold all our lard and tallow for soap making, but now we are going to convert these things into products for the local market. It means an important step in the packing business for this state." "I am heartily in sympathy with any move that helps to develop the state and I am glad you have this in mind, but — " The bishop hesitated and the packer looked at him sharply. "I was going to say that, to my way of thinking, the gospel of Jesus Christ is more im- portant even than lard." The younger man smiled rather ruefully. "Oh, of course, putting it that way, it is." He swung his chair a trifle so as to face the bishop. He leaned forward and spoke in a low tone. "Bishop, that is not the real reason for this letter," tapping it with his forefinger, as it lay open on the desk. "You can keep this under your hat- for the present: plans are under way right now, to consolidate the western packing interests. I have been approached by pratically all the packers in the city with this end in view. The merger is pretty well assured and I am slated to stand at the head." He sat up in his chair, his eyes sparkling, his face flushed with triumph. "Bishop, it's a big thing for me. It will place us in a position where we can dictate prices and shut out competition. Of course, we will still have the big packers from the middle west to duel with, but the high freight rates make them easy to handle." "I guess I'm old fashioned, Harvey," the bishop said, "but I think more about the good will of my neighbors and friends and thf approval of my Master, than I do about making a pile of money." Harvey smiled, a rather superior smile, the bishop thought, but he did not make any comment. 846 IMPROVEMENT ERA The door of the office swung open and the packer's daughter, Dorothy, now a beautiful child of ten, burst into the room and flung herself into her father's arms. Dressed in the richest fabrics that money could buy and carefully groomed in manners and speech, she might well have touched the heart of any man who loved grace and beauty and innocence. "Daddy, mama wants you to take us out to Aunt Emly's. Can't you come now?" Then she noticed Bishop Mulroy. "That is," she added, "when you get through with your business." The bishop held out his hand and she put her soft little one into it. "Don't you think my daddy's a wonderful man, Bishop Mulroy?" "Of course he is, Dorothy, and I hope you will always think so." The bishop arose as he spoke and put on his hat. "I'd like to leave this matter open for a little while, if I thought you might re- consider it, Harvey." The packer shook his head. "I'm afraid it's final, Bishop. I couldn't attend to my duties in the Mutual, if you should retain me in it. No; this will have to be final." "Well, I'm sorry," the bishop said as he went out. Hoping against hope, the bishop still deferred action on the Harvey Gibbs resignation. "The Mutual Improvement season will soon be over and we might as well let the matter stand as it is until fall, the counselors can do the work," he told his counselors. "Many things can happen before then." And things did happen. That was spring when the peak of high prices was reached and the reaction set in. The sheepmen were stag- gered.at the sudden drop in the price of wool. Thousands of sacks were left at the shearing corrals, and even in the freight sheds at the rail- road stations. Farm prices fell with sickening rapidity, and the farmers in many instances could not realize enough from the sale of their products to pay for the help they had hired to harvest their crops. Many men on great farms and ranches bundled their families and household goods into their wagons and drove off "because the lands were no longer worth the mortgages that covered them. Mines and factories closed down and dumped millions of idle men upon the country. The packers did not escape. Several of Gibbs's buyers were in remote sections, and Harvey was unable to reach them by telegram until they arrived at the railroad with sheep and cattle ready for shipment. In a few weeks his bank surplus shrank to almost nothing. He dismissed his buyers and tried to dispose of the animals before the shipment. In some instances he was able to effect a sale, but at prices that were ruinous. When prices seemed to steady themselves a little, Harvey concluded that the bottom had about been reached. He made a hurried trip into Idaho and with the last of his bank surplus bought 1200 hogs at 13 cents a pound. He got the wires humming and with- in twenty-four hours had the animals entrained for shipment to Salt GOD'S DEBT 847 Lake. Immediately upon their arrival he turned them into pork and felt that he had done well, but when he got them on the market they brought only 13 cents a pound dressed. A loss of more than $15,000. In the midst of this crisis, Harvey's daughter, Dorothy, came down with typhoid fever. Medical assistance was called in at once and the doctors assured the anxious parents that there was no cause for alarm. In spite, however, of the doctors' assurance Dorothy seemed to have secured an unusual supply of the deadly germs, and when the time should have come for her to take a turn for the better she gave no promise of improvement. Nellie sent for Bishop Mulroy. When he reached the Gibbs's front door it was opened by Nellie's mother, a stately gray-haired lady usually very calm and capable, but now wearing a very worried look. She extended her hand in greeting. "1 am so glad you are here, Will," she said, sighing with evident relief. "Where is Nellie?" he asked. "With Dorothy. She sits by her bedside all the time, and we cannot get her away. She thinks the world of you, Will, and I hope you can persuade her to get some rest." They entered the sick room. The child on the bed looked scarcely worse than the wan and tired- eyed mother who sat by her side looking so wistfully at the pale festures of her offspring. The bishop's heart overflowed with sym- pathy, and he placed his hand on Nellie's head, then his hand tenderly caressed her cheek and pressed her head against his side. She burst into tears. Her thin hands reached up and took his hand in hers. "Bishop, I can't stand it! She doesn't even recognize me now.' She spoke in jerky sentences between her sobs. "The doctors keep telling me that she will soon take a turn for the better, but they don't know. Do you think God is going to take her away?" "The Lord gave her to you, Nellie, and he will do what is best for you and Harvey. We will hope that he will stretch forth his hand and restore her health and life again." He gently laid her hands in her lap as he spoke. Then he bent over the sick child and studied the little pinched face, offering a prayer in his heart for her recovery. Harvey came in. He looked like a man distracted. He kissed his wife and shook the bishop's hand. "Has she regained conscious- ness?" he asked as he bent over the bed. His hand gently stroked the hair from the white foreheard of his child, and Dorothy stirred feebly. The nurse came in and dropped a spoonful of water into the little one's mouth. Dorothy did not swallow it, she did not even close her mouth. The nurse shook her gently to rouse her, but without avail. Then she ran to the telephone and called the doctor. The sound of her excited voice telling the doctor to hurry brought Nellie to her feet. She threw herself partly across the bed and kissed the pale cheeks. "Dorothy, Dorothy, speak to me! This is mama!" She did not cry. She spoke breathlessly, insistently. "Don't let yourself go, 848 IMPROVEMENT ERA Dorothy. Open your eyes and look at me!" But there was no response. The child's head moved only as the mother moved it. It seemed almost detached from the body. "Oh, she's dying!" She rose up wild-eyed. "Can't you do something? Where's the doctor? Why doesn't he hurry? Pray, all of you!" She came swiftly to the bishop and seized a lapel of his coat in each hand, looking up into his face pleadingly. "Won't you pray for her, Bishop Mulroy? No one but God can give her back to us. Please say you'll pray for her." "You musn't give way like this, Nellie," he said gently. "Of course, I'll pray for her." Two doctors came in followed by the nurse. They made a hasty examination. "Too late," one of them said in an undertone to the other. The low-spoken words did not escape the ears strained for any word of encouragement that might fall from the lips of these wizards of the sickroom. The bishop expected an outcry from Nellie, but she gave nc sound. He saw Harvey put his arms about his wife and try to comfort her, though his own grief was well nigh overmastering him. The doctors left the room. Nellie turned to the bishop. "I knew all the time they could do nothing for her. Only God can heal my child." She came closer to Bishop Mulroy. "You believe God can heal her, don't you?" "Of course he can," returned the bishop. • "Then don't give up. You'll ask him to heal her for my sake, won't you, Bishop Mulroy." Her eyes searched his face as if she would sound the depths of his faith. "For your sake, Nellie," he said in a low tone. "I should like to be alone in the room," he added in a louder voice to those present. They silently withdrew. Harvey lingered. "You said, for her sake, Bishop. Won't you for mine, too?" The men looked into each other's eyes for a second. "1 know what you are thinking about, Bishop Mulroy. I thought the Lord owed me something for my work in the mission field and in the ward." He took a step forward and clasped the bishop's hand in both of his. He blessed me in my business until I took the credit to myself. Now everything has gone to smash. He gave me this child, the pride of my heart, but I forgot to thank him for her." He drew the bishop toward the bed. "Perhaps he will take her away, but, oh, I do hope he will not." He raised his hand. "All we have and love in this life are gifts from God. There is no such thing as 'God's debt'." He bent over the bed. "My precious pet," he murmured. The bishop laid his hand on the younger man's head. "Yes, they are gifts, gifts so great that we cannot appreciate them until times like this reveal them to us in all their intensity." Once more the men looked into each other's eyes. "Yes, for your sake, too, Harvey." The young man bowed his head and with a low-spoken, "Thank GODS DEBT 849 you," left the room. When the door dosed, the bishop looked at the face on the pillow. If there was any life in the little form, he could not detect it. He knelt beside the bed. He was a man of great faith. He believed this trouble had come upon Harvey Gibbs to teach him the true values of life. Whether it would require the life of this child to complete the lesson, he did not know. This was the way he presented it before the Lord. And he asked if possible that the child might be spared. He prayed with all the intensity of his soul. Before he rose from his knees he felt the little one stir, and a tiny voice say, "Mama." He looked at the face on the pillow and saw that her eyes were open. Once more he closed his eyes. "Father in heaven, I thank thee," he said. Then he rose and opened the door. "Come," he said. They entered the room. Pen cannot describe the feeling of grief turned to joy that comes on such occasions. The mother k\ssed the cheeks of her child, the father kneeling at the bedside in an almost audible prayer of thanksgiving, while the little one puts up her thin, white hand and touches her mother's cheek, and the grandmother looks on with tear-dimmed eyes. These are the pictures which still linger in the memory of good Bishop Mulroy. When he left, Harvey followed him to the front door. They clasped each other's hands in silent understanding. "You're right, Harvey," the bishop said, "There's no such thing as 'God's Debt'." Sandy, Utah. The Boys of '76 A lot of water has run through the mill Since those far distant days of history's fame. Dimly we see the heroes — lying still, Who gave their lives in dear, dear freedom's name. Many a hard fought cause has taken toll Of gallant boys, and women's tears been shed, Still we remember, now, the martyrs' roll Who laid the path where mighty nations tread. Would that time's mystic scroll could backward turn, That those dead patriots could see, once more, The living temple that their visions earn Where Liberty, enshrined, goes on before. Henry F. Kirkham.