An Appeal to God
On a cold wintry journey to Valley Forge, Mrs. Washington rode behind her husband on a pillion. He was on his powerful bay charger, and accompanied by a single aide-de-camp.
On his arrival at Valley Forge, Washington placed her in the small but comfortable house of Isaac Potts, a Quaker preacher.
So in all the trials of that Winter at Valley Forge, Washington had the most earnest sympathies, cheerful spirit, and willing hands of his loving wife to sustain him and share in his cares.
She provided comforts for the sick soldiers. Every day except Sundays, the wives of officers, and other women too, assisted her in knitting socks, patching garments, and making shirts for the poor soldiers.
Every fair day, she might be seen, basket in hand and with a single attendant, going among the huts and giving comfort to the most needy sufferers.
On one occasion, she went to the hut of a dying sergeant, whose young wife was with him. His misery touched the heart of Mrs. Washington, and after she had given him some food prepared with her own hands, she knelt down by his straw bed, and prayed earnestly for him and his wife, in her sweet serious voice.
But it was not only women who prayed in those terrible days at Valley Forge.
The cold and suffering increased. One day Friend Potts was walking by the creek not far from his house, when he heard a solemn voice speaking. He went quietly in its direction, and saw Washington’s horse without a rider tied to a sapling.
He stole nearer, and saw Washington himself, kneeling in a thicket. He was on his knees in prayer to God asking Him for help. Tears were on Washington’s cheeks.
And quietly the Friend stole away. On entering his house, he burst out weeping. When his wife asked him what was the matter, he said:—
“If there is any one on this earth whom the Lord will listen to, it is George Washington. And I feel a presentiment that under such a Commander there can be no doubt of our eventually establishing our Independence, and that God in His providence has willed it so.”
Benson J. Lossing (Arranged)