Democratic Sentinel, Volume 11, Number 27, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 5 August 1887 — A Cup of Tea. [ARTICLE]

A Cup of Tea.

“Sitting in a station the other day I had a little sermon preached in the way I like, and IM report it for your benefit, because it taught one of the lessons that we all should learn, and taught it in such a simple, natural way that no one could forget it: “It was a bleak, snowy day, the train was late, the ladies’ room dark and smoky, and the dozen women, old and young, who sat wa ting patiently, all looked cross, low-spirited, or stupid. I felt all three, and thought, as 1 looked around, that my fellow beings were a very unamiable, uninteresting set. “Just then a forlorn old woman, shaking with palsy, came in with a basket of ware and went about, mutely offering them to tho sitters. Nobody bought anything, and the poor old soul stood blinking at the door a minute, as if reluctant to go into the bitter storm again. She turned, presently, and poked about the room, as if trying to find something, and then a pale lady ifi black, who lay as if asleep on a sofa, opened her eyes and saw the old woman, and instantly asked, in a kind tone, ‘Have you lost anything, ma’am?’ “ ‘ No, dear; I’m looking for the heating place to warm me ’afore I goes out agin. My eves is poor, and I don’t seem to find the furnace nowheres.’ “ ‘Here it is,’ and tho lady led her to the radiator, placed a chair, and showed her how to warm her feet. “ ‘Well, now, ain’t that nice?’ said the old woman, spreading her ragged mittens to dry. ‘Thanky, dear; this is proper comfortable, ain’t it? I’m almost frozen to-day, being lamo and wimbly, and not selling much makes me downhearted.’ “The lady smiled, went to the counter, bought a cup of tea and some kind of food, carried it herself to the old woman, and said, as respectfully and kindly as if the poor woman had been dressed in silk and fur: ‘Won’t you liavo a cup of tea ? It’s vory comforting a day like this.’ “ ‘Sakes alive! do they give tea at this depot?’ cried the old woman in a tone of innocent surprise that made a smile go round the room, touching the gloomiest face like a streak of sunshine. ‘Well, now’, this is just lovely,’ added the old lady, sipping away with a relish. ‘This does warm the cockles of my heart.’ “While she refreshed herself, telling her story meanwhile, the lady looked over the poor little wares in the basket, bought soap and pins, shoe-strings and tape, and cheered the old soul by paying well for them. “As I watched her doing this, I thought what a sweet face she had, 1 hough I had considered it rather plain before. I felt dreadfully ashamed of myself that I had grimly shaken my bead when the basket was offered me; and, as I saw tho look of interest and sympathy and kindness come into the faces around me, I did w.'bli that I was the magician to call it out. It was only a kind word and friendly act, but somehow it brightened the dingy room wouderfully. It changed the faces of a dozen women, and I think it touched a dozen hearts, for I saw many eyes follow the p.lain, pale lady with sudden respect. And when the old woman got up to go, several persons beckoned to her and bought something, as if they wanted to repair negligence. “Old beggar women are not romantic ; neither are cups of tea, boot laces, and colored soap. There were no gentlemen present to be impressed with the ltdy’s kind act, so it wasn’t done for effect; and no possible reward could be received for it except the ungrammatical thanks of a ragged old woman. But that simple litiie charity was as good as a sermon to those who saw it, and I think each traveler w’ent on her way better for that half-hour in tho dreary station. I can testify that one of them did, and nothing but the emptiness of her purse prevented her from ‘comforting the cockles of the heart’ of every forlorn old woman she met for a week after.” —Louisa M. Alcott.