It was quite late when Joseph got home, both wet and tired. But he had been successful. His mother showed him how to prepare the little animals so as to be saleable. The next morning quite early he got up and hurried in hopeful expectation to Mr. Wilkins, who was the village store keeper. The door was locked and he had to wait a half hour.
At last the owner arrived. “Mr. Wilkins, here are some fine shrimps,” came the greeting from Joseph.
“Thank you, my boy, I don’t need any,” he answered.
Joseph was disappointed. That his wares might be refused, had not entered his mind. But he did not lose courage. He went from house to house, and cried out loudly: “Fine shrimps. Who Will buy fine shrimps?”
But no one seemed to want his sweet morsels. The young salesman was rather depressed by the time he had gone well over the village, and arrived at a little white house on the outskirts of the place where there was a pretty garden, a little to the side of the street.
“Miss, don’t you need some nice shrimps?” Joseph called out to a girl who was shining the doorbell.
“Wait a moment, boy, I will ask my lady.” She hurried through the door, but soon came back leading an elderly, well dressed lady by the hand. It was the lady of the house, who came herself to buy some of Joseph’s shrimps. She looked friendly and possessed a gentle voice, but kept her eyes closed; she was blind.
“Yes, my child,” said she, “I will gladly buy some of your shrimps. I believe I have not eaten shrimps since my girlhood days, when I climbed around the rocks on the coast for them. What is your name, my boy?”
Joseph told his name and added that he would rather sell the whole basket.
“But my boy,” said the blind lady smiling, what could I do with it? I would like to have thirty cents worth, but more than that Johanna and I could not possibly eat. Why would you like so much to sell me the whole basket?”
“Father has decided, because Susie begged him, to take Greta into our house so she wouldn’t have to go to the poor house. But now there is not enough to eat for all of us, and Susie and I are trying to earn something to help. But it is hard to do,” he added with a sigh.
“Can Susie sew?” asked the blind lady sympathizing.
“Yes.”
“Then send her over here this afternoon.”
Joseph’s announcement caused rejoicing at the fisherman’s home.
Greta promised to look after the little ones, so Susie started right after dinner to Mrs. R., the friendly blind lady. She was so eager, she forgot her mother’s command, and rushed wildly across the street. Quite out of breath, she arrived at the white house. Mrs. R. received her at once into her room, asked about one thing and another, and especially about Greta. The answers she received seemed to satisfy her.
“I will do what I can,” said Susie at last. “Joseph and I would so much like to earn something to help father because he took Greta into the house.”
“Very well, my child, here are three sheets to be hemmed. If you do the work well I will pay you 7 cents apiece. You are willing and have good eyes, which alas, I have no longer. When God took away my sight, I was very sad at first. I would rather have died, because I thought I was not good for anything in the world. But God showed me it was wrong to think so. You see even today I can do something for you and Greta. Keep up your courage, my dear child. Trust in the Heavenly Father, and all will be well.”
Arriving at home, Susie wanted to commence her work at once. But that would not do. Mother needed her little daughter all the rest of the day. It was a hard test for her zeal. But Susie tried to obey without murmuring.
“I’ll get up early tomorrow,” she said to Joseph. “I can well get along with an hour less sleep.”
“But day break is rather late these days,” interrupted her sensible brother, “and candles are dear.”
“That’s so, Joseph,” she said in a low disappointed tone, “what shall I do?”
Joseph had a way. That evening he went to Mr. Wilkins and begged a candle, promising to run errands in payment. The store keeper was kind enough not to refuse our young friend this time.
Susie was up next Morning at five o’clock. But with her haste she did not forget to kneel down to pray before beginning her work. Then she went to work with a happy heart. It was a real pleasure to her to serve the little stranger, as she gladly gave up an hour’s sleep.
Yes, dear young readers, it is a pleasure to be able to do something for others, and God is with us in this service.
Before the week was over the sheets were done. Susie and Greta went together to take them.
Johanna pronounced the work well done, and Mrs. R. kindly stroked Susie’s cheek.
“Can’t Greta work,” she asked. The child looked ashamed and put her fingers in her mouth. Susie answered for her.
“Then you must learn, Greta. Come over here at two o’clock every afternoon. Johanna will give you lessons in sewing, won’t you, Johanna?”
“Certainly, Mrs. R.”
From that time Greta came at the appointed hour every day to the white house. Johanna took considerable pains to teach the orphan child who had not learned anything, and Greta learned to the satisfaction of her teacher. Nearly every day she got something to take home to her foster parents; such as cold meat or pudding. In this way the winter passed in a better way at the home of Jacob Brand, than they had expected.
The spring came, and with it the fishing trips began again. It seemed as though a special blessing rested on the home of Jacob Brand. They had never had such steady success in catching. Susie was hired to do sewing in abundance. Joseph was errand boy for Mr. Wilkins, and besides his board, received good wages for a boy of his age. Greta was no longer the spoiled, discontented child of former days. She had learned to work.
Two years have passed since the above was related. Once more we step into Jacob Brand’s cabin. A sad picture meets our eye. Susie, our dear Susie, has been sick a long time. She is so pale and thin we hardly recognize her. She is just saying farewell to her loved ones. She feels that her hours down here are numbered. But this knowledge does not make her sad. She knows she is passing from faith to sight. Soon she is to see Jesus, her Saviour, in whom she believed, and whom she so gladly served. Her bed has been placed near the window. She breathes heavily. Slowly the sun sets. And with the setting sun her breathing is weaker. And as that fiery ball hides below the ocean horizon, Susie Brand takes her flight from earth. Very peacefully she went home to Jesus. Farewell dear child! Farewell till that meeting over there!
She was buried beside little Christine. And as they all stood silently at the open grave, her father thought of the words Susie had spoken on that memorable visit to this same spot, and repeated them to his children, “Father, might not the Lord have taken her away, so that you could give Greta her place.”
Who was it now who put her hand into that of the sorrowing father? Who was it on that long day of the funeral, cared for the children and kept them quiet? It was Greta. Who was it later on, when father came home tired from a fishing trip, that ran to meet him, relieved him of his heavy hat and brought his slippers? It was Greta. And when the poor mother lay sick in bed for weeks, from having nursed her child through her long illness, and from her bereavement, it was Greta who took her place as manager, who smoothed the pillows of the sick mother and tenderly cared for her. She was truly now the sunshine of the home.
Mr. Brand and his wife did not forget Susie. How would that have been possible? But they regarded Greta as a precious gift from their dying child, and they often remembered Susie’s last words:
“Dear Parents! Greta will be your eldest daughter when I am gone. You had pity on her, and now she will care for you.”
ML 08/25/1912