A Nickel and a Prayer

CHAPTER 14. Friends Along the Way

133 CHAPTER XIV Friends Along the Way T he frontier of my struggle did not lead me into moneyraising , for financial assistance was not then and never shall be the cure-all of our problems. Past experience has taught me a different philosophy, for friends have done more to broaden my education and encourage me in self-development than any financial assistance could have done. I have learned that the right kind of friends can be of the greatest help in creating better relations between the races. Their attitude toward the Negro and their understanding of the peculiar social problems which I faced, brought about an interest in my efforts that was city-wide. Through these fine associations, we derived most of our moral support. The world-wide near famine brought shocking losses to me. The strain of economic and social changes caused many fatalities. These dreadful years left their mark upon my heart, when I realized that the great chain of friends which I had claimed had been weakened by death. Speaking as I did in the churches throughout the city, county, and state, I was brought into contact with many distinguished leaders who were so touched by the presentation of the work that many of them joined our Association . Mrs. Frank Arter1 a great Methodist leader of women, became a pillar of strength upon which I depended. It was her help in many ways which opened the hearts of The Methodist Church women to us.  134 Chapter XIV On many occasions Mr. Arter2 related to me the story of the underground railway, and of his service to help the slaves escape into Ohio and across the border. In recent years, when passing through Harper’s Ferry, I noticed the shabby memorial to John Brown;3 and I was able better to appreciate Mr. Arter’s interest in the struggle to free my people during the Civil War. A young Board member, in speaking of Mrs. Arter, said, “I like to remember her for the beautiful prayers she offered up in the meetings.” To me, her prayers were like my Grandma’s prayers—so meek and lowly—although Mrs. Arter was a woman of great wealth and social position. In memory of these two great friends, the Trustees named our largest branch the Kingsley-Arter Center.4 As the news of training Negro girls spread to the four corners of the city, many large churches invited me to tell my story. In school I had acquired some ability to address audiences, as a member of the dramatic classes; and now I was able to grip and hold the attention of my listeners who, in many cases, urged me to remain after the lecture to answer questions. The Phillis Wheatley Home was proving a blessing in disguise to Negroes , although few of them saw the need for the work at the time of its establishment. One of my pleasant memories was the visit of our home by Mrs. Solon Severance, a woman of social prestige and strong convictions. She was moved by the reports which she had learned concerning our efforts . I was not surprised when she called, for I had long known of the missionary and philanthropic work her distinguished family was carrying on in the mission fields of China. One evening I attended a stereopticon lecture5 presented by Mr. Severance at St. John’s A. M. E. Church, in which he told of their interest in the underprivileged of the Orient. The knowledge I gained from his lecture enabled me better to understand how easy it was for his wife to find her way to our doors, where she shared Christian love and charity with another underprivileged group. I guided her through the Home, interpreting to the best of my ability the need for training of Negro girls. In the course of conversation, she remarked , “People like yourself seldom provide for their own comfort. Someone should see to it that at least the comfort of a decent bed is provided for Friends Along the Way 135 you.” After inspecting every nook and corner of the building, she shook my hand and departed. Never once suspecting her motive, I felt strongly that another Angel of Mercy had crossed my path. Within a few days there arrived for me a handwoven, blue and white woolen spread, an art design of Mrs. Severance’s own mother. Each year while...