Glorious Self-Sacrifice
How great are the responsibilities of housekeepers! Sometimes an indigestible article of food, by its effect upon a commander or king, has defeated an army or over-thrown an empire. Housekeepers by the food they provide, by the couches they spread, by the books they introduce, by the influences they bring around the home, are deciding the physical, intellectual, moral, eternal destiny of the race.
You say your life is one of sacrifice. I know it. But, my sisters, that is the only life worth living. That was Florence Nightingale’s life; that was Payson’s life; that was Christ’s life. We admire it in others, but how very hard it is for us to cultivate ourselves. When in this city young Dr. Hutchison, having spent a whole night in a diphtheritic room for the relief of a patient, became saturated with the poison and died, we all felt as if we would like to put garlands on his grave; everybody appreciates that. When in the burning hotel at St. Louis a young man on the fifth story broke open the door of the room where his mother was sleeping, and plunged in amid smoke and fire, crying: “Mother! where are you?” and never came out, our hearts applauded that young man. But how few of us have the Christ-like spirit—a willingness to suffer for others!