Some would say 'twas only chance that I stumbled across this book tonight. But I know better. Just a matter of looking at the "seller's other items" on Ebay and running across some reprinted book that was apparently a Christian work by a lady named Isabella Alden. A little research, and I discovered that Mrs. Alden was the aunt of a dear Christian author whose works I am familiar with--Grace Livingston Hill. (I should have realized the name was familiar!) Then of course, off I went to Gutenberg.org to see if there were any of Mrs. Alden's books on there. There were, and despite the fact that none of them were in HTML ( plain text is rather wearying to read), I thought I would read a bit of one just to get a feel for what her books were like. . . .
I read it all. I've read books that were more "interesting", but few that were so convicting, truthful, full of Light, and encouraging. I cried all the way through, I'm not quite done yet. . .I can't yet express all that I have seen, or that God has said to my heart, but oh how convicting it was as I realized how little I live for Christ compared to what I could! how little I think to serve Him in every moment! how rarely I am so in tune with the Lord's heartbeat, so full of the Holy Spirit that I cannot help but speak of Him. . .to anyone and everyone, not just those Christian brothers and sisters I know will respond approvingly!
So I want to share this book with you. There are 28 chapters; if I post 3 a week, then it should wrap up by mid-February. Please, find the time to listen to these words from a lady long since with the Lord--but no less needed or relevant because of that. You can find the full text
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Ester Reid --Asleep and Awake--
by Isabella Alden
written in 1870, I believe.
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CHAPTER I.
ESTER'S HOME.
She did not look very much as if she were asleep, nor acted as though
she expected to get a chance to be very soon. There was no end to the
things which she had to do, for the kitchen was long and wide, and
took many steps to set it in order, and it was drawing toward tea-time
of a Tuesday evening, and there were fifteen boarders who were, most
of them, punctual to a minute.
Sadie, the next oldest sister, was still at the academy, as also
were Alfred and Julia, while little Minnie, the pet and darling, most
certainly was _not_. She was around in the way, putting little fingers
into every possible place where little fingers ought not to be. It
was well for her that, no matter how warm, and vexed, and out of order
Ester might be, she never reached the point in which her voice could
take other than a loving tone in speaking to Minnie; for Minnie,
besides being a precious little blessing in herself, was the child of
Ester's oldest sister, whose home was far away in a Western graveyard,
and the little girl had been with them since her early babyhood, three
years before.
So Ester hurried to and from the pantry, with quick, nervous
movements, as the sun went toward the west, saying to Maggie who was
ironing with all possible speed:
"Maggie, do _hurry_, and get ready to help me, or I shall never have
tea ready:" Saying it in a sharp fretful tone. Then: "No, no, Birdie,
don't touch!" in quite a different tone to Minnie, who laid loving
hands on a box of raisins.
"I _am_ hurrying as fast as I _can_!" Maggie made answer. "But such an
ironing as I have every week can't be finished in a minute."
"Well, well! Don't talk; that won't hurry matters any."
Sadie Ried opened the door that led from the dining-room to the
kitchen, and peeped in a thoughtless young head, covered with bright
brown curls:
"How are you, Ester?"
And she emerged fully into the great warm kitchen, looking like a
bright flower picked from the garden, and put out of place. Her pink
gingham dress, and white, ruffled apron--yes, and the very school
books which she swung by their strap, waking a smothered sigh in
Ester's heart.
"O, my patience!" was her greeting.
"Are _you_ home? Then school is out".
"I guess it _is_," said Sadie. "We've been down to the river since
school."
"Sadie, won't you come and cut the beef and cake, and make the tea? I
did not know it was so late, and I'm nearly tired to death."
Sadie looked sober. "I would in a minute, Ester, only I've brought
Florence Vane home with me, and I should not know what to do with her
in the meantime. Besides, Mr. Hammond said he would show me about my
algebra if I'd go out on the piazza this minute."
"Well, _go_ then, and tell Mr. Hammond to wait for his tea until he
gets it!" Ester answered, crossly.
"Here, Julia"--to the ten-year old newcomer--"Go away from that
raisin-box, this minute. Go up stairs out of my way, and Alfred too.
Sadie, take Minnie with you; I can't have her here another instant.
You can afford to do that much, perhaps."
"O, Ester, you're cross!" said Sadie, in a good-humored tone, coming
forward after the little girl.
"Come, Birdie, Auntie Essie's cross, isn't she? Come with Aunt Sadie.
We'll go to the piazza and make Mr. Hammond tell us a story."
And Minnie--Ester's darling, who never received other than loving
words from her--went gleefully off, leaving another heartburn to the
weary girl. They _stung_ her, those words: "Auntie Essie's cross,
isn't she?"
Back and forth, from dining-room to pantry, from pantry to
dining-room, went the quick feet At last she spoke:
"Maggie, leave the ironing and help me; it is time tea was ready."
"I'm just ironing Mr. Holland's shirt," objected Maggie.
"Well, I don't care if Mr. Holland _never_ has another shirt ironed.
I want you to go to the spring for water and fill the table-pitchers,
and do a dozen other things."
The tall clock in the dining-room struck five, and the dining-bell
pealed out its prompt summons through the house. The family gathered
promptly and noisily--school-girls, half a dozen or more, Mr. Hammond,
the principal of the academy, Miss Molten, the preceptress, Mrs.
Brookley, the music-teacher, Dr. Van Anden, the new physician, Mr.
and Mrs. Holland, and Mr. Arnett, Mr. Holland's clerk. There was a
moment's hush while Mr. Hammond asked a blessing on the food; then the
merry talk went on. For them all Maggie poured cups of tea, and
Ester passed bread and butter, and beef and cheese, and Sadie gave
overflowing dishes of blackberries, and chattered like a magpie, which
last she did everywhere and always.
"This has been one of the scorching days," Mr. Holland said. "It was
as much as I could do to keep cool in the store, and we generally ARE
well off for a breeze there."
"It has been more than _I_ could do to keep cool anywhere," Mrs.
Holland answered. "I gave it up long ago in despair."
Ester's lip curled a little. Mrs. Holland had nothing in the world to
do, from morning until night, but to keep herself cool. She wondered
what the lady would have said to the glowing kitchen, where _she_ had
passed most of the day.
"Miss Ester looks as though the heat had been too much for her
cheeks," Mrs. Brookley said, laughing. "What _have_ you been doing?"
"Something besides keeping cool," Ester answered soberly.
"Which is a difficult thing to do, however," Dr. Van Anden said,
speaking soberly too.
"I don't know, sir; if I had nothing to do but that, I think I could
manage it."
"I have found trouble sometimes in keeping myself at the right
temperature even in January."
Ester's cheeks glowed yet more. She understood Dr. Van Anden, and she
knew her face did not look very self-controlled. No one knows what
prompted Minnie to speak just then.
"Aunt Sadie said Auntie Essie was cross. Were you, Auntie Essie?"
The household laughed, and Sadie came to the rescue.
"Why, Minnie! you must not tell what Aunt Sadie says. It is just as
sure to be nonsense as it is that you are a chatter-box."
Ester thought that they would _never_ all finish their supper and
depart; but the latest comer strolled away at last, and she hurried to
toast a slice of bread, make a fresh cup of tea, and send Julia after
Mrs. Ried.
Sadie hovered around the pale, sad-faced woman while she ate.
"Are you _truly_ better, mother? I've been worried half to pieces
about you all day."
"O, yes; I'm better. Ester, you look dreadfully tired. Have you much
more to do?"
"Only to trim the lamps, and make three beds that I had not time for
this morning, and get things ready for breakfast, and finish Sadie's
dress."
"Can't Maggie do any of these things?"
"Maggie is ironing."
Mrs. Ried sighed. "It is a good thing that I don't have the sick
headache very often," she said sadly; "or you would soon wear yourself
out. Sadie, are you going to the lyceum tonight?"
"Yes, ma'am. Your worthy daughter has the honor of being editress, you
know, to-night. Ester, can't you go down? Never mind that dress; let
it go to Guinea."
"You wouldn't think so by to-morrow evening," Ester said, shortly.
"No, I can't go."
The work was all done at last, and Ester betook herself to her room.
How tired she was! Every nerve seemed to quiver with weariness.
It was a pleasant little room, this one which she entered, with its
low windows looking out toward the river, and its cosy furniture all
neatly arranged by Sadie's tasteful fingers.
Ester seated herself by the open window, and looked down on the group
who lingered on the piazza below--looked _down_ on them with her eyes
and with her heart; yet envied while she looked, envied their free
and easy life, without a care to harass them, so _she_ thought; envied
Sadie her daily attendance at the academy, a matter which she _so_
early in life had been obliged to have done with; envied Mrs. Holland
the very ribbons and laces which fluttered in the evening air. It had
grown cooler now, a strong breeze blew up from the river and freshened
the air; and, as they sat below there enjoying it, the sound of their
gay voices came up to her.
"What do they know about heat, or care, or trouble?" she said
scornfully, thinking over all the weight of _her_ eighteen years of
life; she hated it, this life of hers, _just_ hated it--the sweeping,
dusting, making beds, trimming lamps, _working_ from morning till
night; no time for reading, or study, or pleasure. Sadie had said she
was cross, and Sadie had told the truth; she _was_ cross most of the
time, fretted with her every-day petty cares and fatigues.
"O!" she said, over and over, "if something would _only_ happen; if I
could have one day, just _one_ day, different from the others; but
no, it's the same old thing--sweep and dust, and clear up, and eat and
sleep. I _hate_ it all."
Yet, had Ester nothing for which to be thankful that the group on the
piazza had not?
If she had but thought, she had a robe, and a crown, and a harp, and
a place waiting for her, up before the throne of God; and all they had
_not_.
Ester did not think of this; so much asleep was she, that she did not
even know that none of those gay hearts down there below her had been
given up to Christ. Not one of them; for the academy teachers and Dr.
Van Anden were not among them. O, Ester was asleep! She went to church
on the Sabbath, and to preparatory lecture on a week day; she read a
few verses in her Bible, _frequently_, not every day; she knelt at her
bedside every night, and said a few words of prayer--and this was all!
She lay at night side by side with a young sister, who had no claim
to a home in heaven, and never spoke to her of Jesus. She worked
daily side by side with a mother who, through many trials and
discouragements, was living a Christian life, and never talked with
her of their future rest. She met daily, sometimes almost hourly, a
large household, and never so much as thought of asking them if they,
too, were going, some day, home to God. She helped her young brother
and sister with their geography lessons, and never mentioned to them
the heavenly country whither they themselves might journey. She took
the darling of the family often in her arms, and told her stories of
"Bo Peep," and the "Babes in the Wood," and "Robin Redbreast," and
never one of Jesus and his call for the tender lambs!
This was Ester, and this was Ester's home.
Comments (3)
This looks like the beginning of a good book. I've never heard of that author before. Thanks for posting this!
I think I have heard of this through Christian Classics on BBN radio. Was this called Ester Reid's Awakening at one time? I look forward to hearing more about this. I love old books. They had so much content to them.
@nachbtikvah - I think that when this was reprinted, it was called Ester Reid's Awakening.
I love BBN! I mainly catch either the regular music, the Bible
reading, or sometimes the conference pulpit. (I ought to try to start
listening to the Christian Classics again though.) My
grandparents usually have BBN playing in their room almost all the
time. . .we even put a computer in there so that they could get the
radio through the internet!