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The value of a praying mother by Isabel C. (Isabel Coston) Byrum
page 11 of 98 (11%)
As I trace a few of her experiences, which are all true incidents, I
trust they may sink into some perplexed mother's heart and enable her to
wield the instruments of love and prayer about her darlings and to be
more able to guide their tender hearts in the right course.

Mrs. Worthington lived in the great city of Chicago, in a small cottage
on Portland Avenue near Thirty-first Street. Nothing about the dwelling
was elaborate; everything was simple, but very neat. Pretty vines
trailed gracefully over the porch and windows, and a few flower beds
filled up the dull nooks and corners. In front of the house was a grassy
lawn enclosed by a picket fence. Here the children could play apart from
the rough waifs that thronged the street. Within the cottage the same
quiet taste was in evidence.

Every day in her cozy sitting-room Mrs. Worthington talked with her
little girls, Bessie and Louise. In times of trouble and perplexity she
bowed with them in prayer. How much the children enjoyed their mother's
comradeship and counsel! The mother realized the importance of these
early impressions made on the child's mind. She had promised God to do
all in her power to train her children for heaven. She had commenced
early, even from the time she had first looked into the depths of their
innocent eyes.

She had taught them that when any trouble arose between them, they were
to kneel in prayer and ask God to help the one who had done wrong. Once
she heard Bessie say, "Louise, I have prayed for you three times, and I
believe I shall have to pray for you again." Louise was not a bad child;
she had as sweet and happy a disposition as Bessie; but, as with all
small children, little difficulties arose between them.

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