1

A Mother’s Feast: May 2015

Welcome to another month of Feasting.  I have been both blessed and challenged by what has been shared in the month of April. Thank you to everyone who linked-up with their own thoughts on motherly feasting.

Mother's Feast Option 3

Have you visited April’s collection of links yet? Here’s a few highlights you won’t want to miss.  (Well, you shouldn’t miss any of them.  But I don’t have time or space to highlight them all)

Laura at Windy Hill Homeschool shared her thoughts on an influential book, Elizabeth Prentiss’ Stepping Heavenward.

Remember the saying “great minds think alike?”  Well, this month Mandie from Teaching Future Dragon Slayers and Anna from Mahers Hill Academy each brought our attention to the importance of learning things that don’t come easily.  Carol at journey-and-destination seemed to continue this thread of thought with her post on Uniting Scientific and Literary Cultures.

Kati from Purposeful Abnegation shares with us her plans and schedules for a Pre-Mother Education Course, and River from Beautiful Chaos discusses how her personal Feasting has been working out in the flow of daily living.

Don’t forget that you can join us on Instagram using the hashtag #amothersfeast 

This month, I have at last ventured into the world of Tolkien and am listening to The Hobbit as my current audio book. I’m still allowing myself to be quietly filled with wonder, but when I read the following passage in Elisabeth Elliot’s Loneliness, I found myself particularly struck by it.

The heroes of the world’s great legends let themselves in for all kinds of fearsome troubles because of the promise of a great reward – the favor of the king, a pot of gold, marriage to a princess. Because there was a shining goal they entered in with heart and will to participate in the as yet unseen and unknown hazards of the dreadful journey. Their heroism lay in acceptance – a wholehearted acceptance of conditions other men would avoid at all cost – and in endurance. The dark caves, tunnels and labyrinths were not problems to be solved but hazards to be traversed, the storms and heavy seas were to be braved, the giants and monsters to be slain. All were accepted and endured in view of the prize.

It reminded me once again of the value of reading literature, of spending precious time in the world of heroes and villains, saints and sinners, trolls and goblins.  To be reminded of the hazards, and the worthwhile prize.

3

Beginning A Morning Well

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For the past year there has been a quote from Mere Christianity on the side of my refrigerator.

“The real problem of the Christian life comes where people do not usually look for it.  It comes the very moment you wake up each morning.   All your wishes and hopes for the day rush at you like wild animals.  And the first job each morning consists simply in shoving them all back; in listening to that other voice, taking that other point of view, letting that other larger, stronger, quieter life come flowing in. And so on, all day.

As someone who is naturally lackadaisical and tried to make up for this flaw with frantic attempts to do everything and satisfy everyone, this quote really touched me.  Sometimes I forget, in all of my laboring to do right, that my effort isn’t, (or at least ought not to be,) all about me.  It’s about doing the work that my Lord has given me to do, and doing it within the limitations that He has seen fit to place upon me.  But I can only do that work if I can hear His Voice.

I have found the stillness of the morning to be the best time for this.  I no longer check my phone before I get out of bed, or grab my tablet and spend a few happy moments on the wonderful AO Forums.  I don’t sit right down and review the busy day ahead.  I take my pen, and copy out a few verses from Hebrews. I sing a song, and pray for a little while.  I’m trying to seek His voice first of all, and I’m finding it makes is easier to distinguish His voice from all the others.

CSLewis

 

4

A Mother’s Feast: January 2015

It’s January!  Which means it’s time for our very first A Mother’s Feast link-up here at Stronghaven. In case you missed it, here’s the original “What is this all about?” post.

Mother's Feast Option 3

I’ve been humbled and encouraged by the outpouring of interest in this endeavour. Most of my ideas start out quite impulsively and never come to fruition, and it’s mostly due to all of you that history did not repeat itself this time.

A special mention goes to Brandy Vencel for designing the nifty graphic, as well as to Mystie Winckler and Karen Andreola for their valiant encouragement.  Thank you, ladies.

This post has been difficult to write.  Not because I lacked ideas, but because I had so many!  Should I tell of my personal plans for learning in 2015?  Should I write a heart wrenching essay on why this issue matters so much?  Should I chatter away about seasons of life and making time? I hope to write all of those posts eventually, but for today I’ve decided to share a story.  It’s the story behind a picture, the picture that has become the image representing A Mother’s Feast.

What a rich morning it was!  I’d woken to a quiet house, I had quietly brewed my tea, and sat down at my desk with my Bible, Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening devotional, my handy bullet journal and a cup of colored pens.  The house was warm with the bone-soaking, toe-heating warmth that only wood heat brings, and I wrapped my hands around my mug of tea and felt content.

As I read through the morning’s devotional selection I was struck by how the words of Spurgeon echoed words that my brother had spoken to me only the day before.  I quietly contemplated the words I had read before choosing an elegant blue shade of ink with which to capture the concepts I was contemplating.  I read a chapter from Proverbs and one from Philippians, choosing a verse to copy into my journal as a rich thought for the day.

My devotions over, I texted briefly with My Man, who had already been at work for hours.  As I spoke with him, I looked at the scene before me and briefly basked in the love it portrayed.  My mother-in-law’s sewing box, filled with all our art supplies.  The patriotic mug my own mother sent to me.  The pens my husband purchased for me just so I wouldn’t have to choose.  The Spurgeon devotional, a gift from my sister-in-law when I was spiritually struggling.  My hard-cover Thompson Chain Reference Bible, a birthday gift from My Man.

In the crib behind my back the baby stirs, wakens and fusses.  On the couch beside me a sleeping boy stretches, and sits up.  The quiet is over.  Lightly bouncing the baby on my hip, I balance the camera in one hand and attempt to capture my morning moment.  Toddling feet cross the kitchen, and a sleepy Boo greets me with “I’m so hungry, Mom!”  It’s 5 AM.

This was a real morning in my home.  I really did sit and bask in the richness of it, and I found my soul refreshed and filled, able to face the day ahead with increased equilibrium.  But there was more to that morning than idyllic moments.

The reason I was up so early was a massive toothache that had been stretching on for days. The house was so cozily warm because I had risen every few hours throughout the night to feed the stove.  The bitter cold outside had made the pick-up engine refuse to start, which meant My Man hadn’t been able to take the propane tanks to town to get filled. I was unable to sip on the tea I brewed: the warm liquid aggravates my tooth.  My Man would be coming home early today, but only because I have been unable to head out into the biting cold to feed the critters.  When I sat down at my desk I had to clear a place on the floor for my feet: I had not been able to vacuum for a few days, and had not even insisted on tidying the living room the night before.  Less than an hour after I snapped that photo I was curled up on the couch, holding a heat-pack to my face and moaning while the children stared in horror.

I want everyone who looks at the restful photo of my morning to remember that it occurred as one moment of peace in a very chaotic day.  This is how our feasting will generally occur. Only rarely do we have grand moments that come together when everything lines up properly.  No, the majority of our time for nourishment will come when we step away from the necessarily busy pace of the day to quietly feed our souls a few words.

Much of my reading will occur due to insomnia. My commonplace book will always contain those baby scribbles from when I failed to shelve it properly and my little ones decided to imitate mother.  Many early mornings will be missed because the baby nursed three times that night and I was semi-comatose.  Many devotionals will be read under my covers as I try to keep the light from waking the children just yet.  Many book discussion thoughts will be scribbled on the backs of envelopes and grocery lists, and many of those scribbles will never reach another mind. But they will happen, and they will be my feast.

Guidelines:

Any posts on this topic are welcome.  From practical to philosophical, from grand plans to nitty-gritty implementation, there is much need for this issue to be discussed.

This link-up will be open for a month: please feel free to add more than one link during that time.

Remember to link to a specific post and not your whole site

1

A Hymn for the Year Ahead

Be Still My Soul

Be still, my soul: the Lord is on thy side.
Bear patiently the cross of grief or pain.
Leave to thy God to order and provide;
In every change, He faithful will remain.
Be still, my soul: thy best, thy heavenly Friend
Through thorny ways leads to a joyful end.

Be still, my soul: thy God doth undertake
To guide the future, as He has the past.
Thy hope, thy confidence let nothing shake;
All now mysterious shall be bright at last.
Be still, my soul: the waves and winds still know
His voice Who ruled them while He dwelt below.

Be still, my soul: when dearest friends depart,
And all is darkened in the vale of tears,
Then shalt thou better know His love, His heart,
Who comes to soothe thy sorrow and thy fears.
Be still, my soul: thy Jesus can repay
From His own fullness all He takes away.

Be still, my soul: the hour is hastening on
When we shall be forever with the Lord.
When disappointment, grief and fear are gone,
Sorrow forgot, love’s purest joys restored.
Be still, my soul: when change and tears are past
All safe and blessèd we shall meet at last.

Be still, my soul: begin the song of praise
On earth, believing, to Thy Lord on high;
Acknowledge Him in all thy words and ways,
So shall He view thee with a well pleased eye.
Be still, my soul: the Sun of life divine
Through passing clouds shall but more brightly shine.

13

Mother Culture Link-up

Mother culture is a topic that has been much on my mind this past year, but mostly in the form of wondering if it really, actually was worth my time.  I first discovered this concept in a Parent’s Review article of the same name, an article from which I will quote extensively. If you haven’t read it before, I would urge you to take the time to do so now.

To be honest, I have forgotten why feeding my mind and soul is so important.  Right now nothing matters besides the dishes and the animals and the snippy children and the noses that need wiped.  All I want to do is tidy and clean over and over again, the only way I know to express my love and prove my worth.  My mind is tired and my body is exhausted and my soul is in agony and all I can see is the doll that needs picked up and the math page that needs finished.

All at once (to take an extreme case), a young girl who has all her life been sheltered and shielded, not only from every trouble, but from every experience of life, is made responsible for the home happiness of her husband………………….. Before she marries, she pictures to herself little of the extreme difficulties of managing that most complicated of machines, a household–not for one week only, during her mother’s absence, but for year after year, without stop or stay, for the rest of her time.

If these two things are difficult, how very much the case is complicated when a wholly untried responsibility comes upon her, and not only her own health, but that of another depends on how she manages her life. And then, perhaps, just as she is grasping the situation, and one child fills her whole heart, more room is wanted, and more and more, and the servant questions goes on, the management of expenditure goes on, the desire to be more than ever her husband’s companion grows stronger and stronger, and the centre of it all is one little woman–wife, mother, mistress all in one! Then it is that she gets overdone. Then it is that she wears herself out. Then it is that, in her efforts to be ideal wife, mother, and mistress, she forgets that she is herself. Then it is, in fact, that she stops growing.

I am a good housekeeper now.  It’s been a week, more than a week, longer than I have ever gone in my life.  I have a clean and tidy home, the meals are served on time and all the school work is getting done.  It is the culmination of years of research, weeping, prayer, lists, heart-ache, longing, striving, effort upon effort upon effort, failure upon failure upon failure.  Years of learning to see myself as I truly am, and then not allowing that horrifying realization to handicap me. I have run this race, and I have achieved my goal.

Yet today my Rosie sat down to sew herself a little shawl for her doll, and quietly commented that she hopes very much she won’t be a mom when she grows up.  Further questioning revealed that she would like to be able to make beautiful things, not always work and only think about making things.

Last night, when I tried to explain my transformation to a confused husband, he seemed horrified rather than pleased. I’m still not sure why, and not knowing bothers me.  I feel as if I finally have something to offer, something worth loving, but the people I am trying to serve have already discovered how to not need me.

There is no sadder sight in life than a mother, who has so used herself up in her children’s childhood, that she has nothing to give them in their youth. When babyhood is over and school begins, how often children take to proving that their mother is wrong. Do you as often see a child proving to its father that he is wrong? I think not. For the father is growing far more often than the mother. He is gaining experience year by year, but she is standing still. Then, when her children come to that most difficult time between childhood and full development she is nonplussed; and, though she may do much for her children, she cannot do all she might, if she, as they, were growing!

Is there not some need for “mother culture”? But how is the state of things to be altered? So many mothers say, “I simply have no time for myself!” “I never read a book!” Or else, “I don’t think it is right to think of myself!” They not only starve their minds, but they do it deliberately, and with a sense of self-sacrifice which seems to supply ample justification. There are, moreover, unfortunately, only too many people who think that sort of thing so lovely that public opinion appears to justify it. But does public opinion justify anything?  Does it justify tight-lacing–or high heels–or bearing-reins for horses? It can never justify anything which leads to the “Oh, it’s only mother” tone in any young person.

It seems that once again I have finished a project only to lift my head and realize life has collapsed outside of my tunnel vision.  Always before it’s been some wonderfully creative project that left my home in shambles.  This time it has been the achievement of practicality only to realize that I’ve lost something along the way, and I truly do not understand what it is.

It would seem as if we mothers often simply made for ourselves the difficulties we find in after life by shutting our minds up in the present. What we need is a habit of taking our minds out of what one is tempted to call “the domestic rag-bag” of perplexities, and giving it a good airing in something which keeps it “growing.” A brisk walk will help. But, if we would do our best for our children, grow we must; and on our power of growth surely depends, not only our future happiness, but our future usefulness.

What is mother culture, you ask?  I think it is purposefully stepping outside of the moment, considering something outside our own immediate sphere for a brief time. It is acknowledging the fact that we Mothers are also people, people with minds and souls and bodies that need wise tending. I’ve become quite skilled at living in the moment, at treasuring moments, at applying myself to the task of the moment.  These are all good things that needed to be conquered, but I do not want to stagnate here.  I very much want to keep growing, to remain available to a busy man who wants someone delightful to talk to or an attentive girl who is just discovering the allure of creating beautiful things.

In 2015 I’ll begin hosting a monthly mother culture link-up, and I’d love for you to join me.  We can talk about what we have learned, about how we managed to make the time to read or journal, about why it’s important to not let our minds and souls grow stale.  The posts can be practical or philosophical. You can be encouraging and optimistic or poignantly introspective. You can write about your goals or your accomplishments. But please lets acknowledge the hope and purpose of steady, purposeful self-education.

I plan to create a special page where I will link each month’s post in order to create a sort of permanent archive on this topic.  That page will also include a set of rules and a more succinct description of the concept of mother culture.

Mother Culture: What it is and What it is Not

It’s Not Selfish

What is Schole

Until January, my friends……………………

3

Capturing Ideas

Last night Rosie and I read Longfellow’s “The Village Blacksmith” together, which led us to discuss My Man and how much the poem reminded us of him.

Toiling,–rejoicing,–sorrowing,
Onward through life he goes;
Each morning sees some task begin,
Each evening sees it close
Something attempted, something done,
Has earned a night’s repose.

Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend,
For the lesson thou hast taught!
Thus at the flaming forge of life
Our fortunes must be wrought;
Thus on its sounding anvil shaped
Each burning deed and thought.

I find myself awed at the power of words.  Awed by the ability of of Longfellow to capture the timeless idea of manly strength within a few short lines.I have seen families where the men have failed at this, when each morning and evening only see tasks not attempted, tasks not begun.  I have known men who spent their youthful energy in avoiding the forge of life rather than facing it head on, but they have not been men on whom I was dependent.

I have been blessed to see this ideal lived in individual ways by my grandfather, my father, my husband, my brothers.  I hope to see it lived someday by my son.  I am grateful for the words of Longfellow; the way he captured this ideal has allowed generations to read and consider it.  Thankful for these words that I can share with my children, words that allow their minds to form a picture of worthy manhood in an age when manliness is often despised or perverted.

This morning we sung Faith of Our Fathers, and I was reminded anew of the obligation of each generation to pass along good and right thoughts, that they be not lost.

Faith of our fathers, living still,
In spite of dungeon, fire and sword;
O how our hearts beat high with joy
Whene’er we hear that glorious word!

Our fathers, chained in prisons dark,
Were still in heart and conscience free;
How sweet would be their children’s fate
If they, like them, could die for thee!

Faith of our fathers, we will love
Both friend and foe in all our strife;
And preach Thee, too, as love knows how
By kindly words and virtuous life.

With all that is going on in the world: as Christians are persecuted abroad and Christian ideals are rejected more and more by our society, I want these words sunk deep into the minds of my children.

Ideas are captured in words, learned by the mind, but ultimate touch the soul.

WWW ladydusk

6

Simple Systems: Hymn Study

Throughout the month of October, Mystie did a splendid series on what she called Simple Home Systems.

I like to turn to systems when I have something I want to happen, but don’t have the brain power to dedicate to it to think it through every time deliberately. Whether it’s what I wear to what’s for dinner to almost any other small but essential responsibility, making it a system is a way to reduce decision fatigue and have more energy to invest where you get better returns on it.

As I contemplated this concept, I realized that the changes which made the greatest difference in our home have usually been Simple Systems.  In my case they generally begin as a Problem, for which I create a Complicated Solution, which leads to More Problems, then finally a Simple Solution.

Take Hymns. Hymns are a big part of our life.  They are a part of our school day, an integral part of family devotions, and an important aspect of church worship.

20141106_103556

Problem

With hymns spread across so much of our lives, we ended up learning new hymns or reviewing old ones, but rarely doing both.  I wanted both consistent learning and consistent review.

Complicated Solution

At first I began printing out hymns and adding them to our Memory Work Binders.  This worked well during our Circle Time, but not so well for family devotions, which usually occurred with several children piled onto their father and a squirming baby in my lap. (Imagine torn page protectors, binders opened and pages spilling everywhere: in short, frequent chaos.)  I began to notice that the versions I printed off of the internet were occasionally different than the versions we sung at church.  Add to this the fact that hymns were rapidly filling up our memory binders and making them difficult to navigate.  A long term system was needed.

Simple Solution

As our Big Purchase for this school year, we ordered four of the hymnals used by our church. These hymnals are kept right beside the Family Bible.

Each morning we begin our Circle Time with two hymns: a hymn we’re learning and a hymn we’re reviewing.

The hymn that we’re currently learning is sung every day until we know it by heart.  When we’ve learned a new hymn, I carefully “highlight” the title in the index.  (I use colored pencil, as an actual highlighter would bleed through the page.)

20141106_102917

The highlighted titles become our review list. We start with A and work our way through the alphabet, singing one highlighted song each day until we get through Z, then going back to A and starting over.  The hymns sung during family devotions are chosen from the highlighted titles, and the hymnals are not only easier to manage than binders, they’re also sturdier.

Simple.  Reliable.  Usable.

4

Biased Reporting: A Breakdown

I saw the headline when a friend posted it on Facebook with the warning that such events would soon be happening all across America.  It had some definite shock value. “School’s Nation of Islam handout paints Founding Fathers as racists”I read.  Even though I homeschool my own children, I do find it disturbing that public school would hand out Islamic literature.  Perhaps it was a critical thinking assignment for high school students.  Curious about the details, I click on through to read the full article.

“The mother of an eight-year-old wants to know why a Tennessee school teacher gave her child a handout from the Nation of Islam that portrayed the presidents on Mount Rushmore as being racists.”

I can understand this.  If my eight-year-old son had been given such a thing, I would want to know a whole lot more about this situation.  Luckily, this mother had Mr. Todd Starnes helping her investigate, and he’s going to tell us what he learned.

By squinting at the picture accompanying the article, you can see that this handout pulled “facts” from the lives of four great men and attempted to define them by it.  But that wasn’t the most disturbing thing.  Sommer Bauer, the mother involved, visited a link she found on this paper and discovered the Nation of Islam Research Group.  She became even more alarmed when her son’s teacher told that her son should not have taken the handout home.

“I was caught off guard,” she told me. “I reassured my son that he needed to feel safe enough to bring anything that the school gave him home to me. Ultimately, while his teachers do care for him, his mother and his father have his absolute number one best interests at heart.”

He knows he needs to bring everything home to me, she said.

Well, our talented Todd Starnes wants to entertain the possibility that this is just an genuine mistake.  Being the bold and upright reporter he is, he investigates Ms. Bauer’s story. He discusses the handout with the school principal, and the principal is disturbed as well.  “It was not an authorized handout,” he insists.

Now a new person is alarmed: Julie West, President of Parents for Truth in Education.  She sums up this disturbing situation briefly.

“We had a teacher who apparently never looked at something, never read something, before it was distributed to a class of third graders,” West said. “In addition, she warned the students not to take it home.”

In the end, our dependable Todd Starnes realizes not everyone will automatically accept his story.  He has some words for them.

But let’s suspend reality for just a moment and say the little boy did take that handout. Regardless, there’s no disputing the fact that it was on the teacher’s desk.

And I do believe the good people of Elizabethton deserve to know how and why a handout from the Nation of Islam ended up on school property.

Obviously, every conservative in the country ought to be furious!

Well, many of them are.  While Fox News may have broken the story, several other sources have picked it up in their righteous anger.  Meanwhile, an elementary school is trying to salvage its reputation.  But you can only find that if you take the trouble to search for their page.

Welcome to Elizabethton City Schools

The following is an email sent to administrators, principals, and teachers regarding the Fox News report.

Dear Folks,
      In response to yesterday’s coverage by Fox News of an occurrence involving a sheet of paper taken home by a third-grade student at Harold McCormick Elementary School, the following is an accurate clarification:  First, when this circumstance was first  brought to my attention yesterday afternoon in a phone message, I immediately called the school Principal and obtained the details.  I then call the individual at Fox back and relayed the specific information I had just gotten.  The Principal quickly had done a thorough investigation and found the following (all of which was given to Fox News, prior to his national news report): 1) the sheet in question was not a hand-out sheet distributed to the students; 2) the sheet had been generated from internet information (on Mount Rushmore for a classroom history lesson) for the purpose of providing background material for a teacher observation; 3) the location of the sheet was on a separate teacher table adjacent to the teacher’s desk; 4) the student (without permission) took the sheet from a “ton” of discarded teacher’s material on that table; then, the student took it home and gave it to the parent.
     I was able late yesterday afternoon to obtain the sheet (via fax) and saw why it was, in fact, discarded by the teacher as material to utilize in her presentation.      Now, the thought that we as public educators would deliberately distribute such material is absolutely absurd!  What was reported (which had been rebutted prior to the airing) was misleading and totally incorrect.  I can only think it was shown for its sensational effect.  Sadly, regardless of any follow-up report, our System has been defamed (possibly permanently). Should you need more information or if you have questions, please call or e-mail me.
                             Ed Alexander

When I finally read what the school had to say, I got mad.  I have come to expect twisted and biased reporting from the left. To find it on Fox News, where supposedly conservative values are respected and truth matters, absolutely infuriates me.

Mr. Starnes “article” constantly referred to the school’s “handout” and left us wondering at the weak arguments used by the school to explain why they would have used this “handout” without intending to support such a viewpoint.

But there is an essential fact left out of this “article” all together: the school  claims it wasn’t a handout.  According to the school, the teacher recognized the unsuitability of the information and declined to use it in his/her classroom.  It wasn’t given to students.  It wasn’t passed around with a note that it was to remain in the classroom so paranoid parents didn’t realize their children were being indoctrinated.  According to the school, it wasn’t used at all.  Period.

This *ought* to make a difference.  Whether you believe the school is lying or the kid is, it still matters.  This is not a case of a school trying to explain away its actions.  This is a case of a school denying such actions all together. This is not a teacher trying to backpedal after getting caught.  This is a teacher categorically denying what he/she is accused of.

It wouldn’t have been difficult for Mr. Starnes to discover more, I think.  Rather than obtaining loaded quotes from an entity (Julie West) far removed from the incident, what about contacting other parents from that class and saying “Hey, did your kids hear about this?”  If Sommer Bauer’s son is the only child who appeared with the “handout”, wouldn’t that weigh heavily in favor of the teacher’s version of events?

We may never know exactly what happened.  I think that the school’s explanation makes the most logical sense, but no matter who is lying Mr. Starnes grossly misrepresented the school’s position in this matter, and he ought to be ashamed.  I hope and pray that the “righteous fury” of conservatives does not cost a good teacher a job.  A teacher who, apparently, had the good sense to consign biased drivel to the appropriate place: the trash.  May we all do the same.

0

Sunday School Literature

31 Days of Vintage E-Books

Sunday School Literature

Vintage e-booksThere was a certain class of books published at the end of the 19th Century that was clearly intended to teach children to be good.  Despised by some and revered by others, the majority of these books have been lost but a few have remained.  I like to think that it’s the better ones which have survived.  Some of my favorite works can be found in this genre, though they aren’t yet available online. In many ways this post is a teaser for my Big Project.

In today’s post I have included works by authors whom I enjoy, though I have not read all of the works listed.

Amy Le Feuvre
Teddy’s Button

Project Gutenberg Page
Kindle Version

Jill’s Red Bag

Project Gutenberg Page
Kindle Version

Me and Nobbles

Project Gutenberg Page
Kindle Version

Bulbs and Blossoms

Project Gutenberg Page
Kindle Version

Probable Sons

Project Gutenberg Page
Kindle Version

His Big Opportunity

Project Gutenberg Page
Kindle Version

The Carved Cupboard

Project Gutenberg Page
Kindle Version

Odd

Project Gutenberg Page
Kindle Version

Dwell Deep

Project Gutenberg Page
Kindle Version

Charlotte Marie Tucker (A.L.O.E.)
Hebrew Heroes

Project Gutenberg Page
Kindle Version

The Spanish Cavalier

Project Gutenberg Page
Kindle Version

The Crown of Success

Project Gutenberg Page
Kindle Version

Mrs. O. F. Walton
Christie’s Old Organ

Project Gutenberg Page
Kindle Version

Christie, the King’s Servant

Project Gutenberg Page
Kindle Version

A Peep Behind the Scenes

Project Gutenberg Page
Kindle Version

The King’s Cup-Bearer

Project Gutenberg Page
Kindle Version

Saved At Sea

Project Gutenberg Page

Stephen by Florence Morse Kingsley

Project Gutenberg Page

Hesba Stretton
The Christmas Child

Project Gutenberg Page
Kindle Version

Alone in London

Project Gutenberg Page
Kindle Version

Little Meg’s Children

Project Gutenberg Page
Kindle Version

Harold Bell Wright
That Printer of Udell’s

Project Gutenberg Page
Kindle Version

The Uncrowned King

Project Gutenberg Page
Kindle Version

The Shepherd of the Hills

Project Gutenberg Page
Kindle Version