Over My Shoulder

7/23

Chapter 3—Companionship and Separation

In Battle Creek, Father bought a home on North Kendall Street near the edge of town. It was a plain house with a lawn in front and a grape arbor and large garden space at the back. After he had the yard fenced and the house repaired and put into good living condition, we moved in. Aunt Mary Mortensen, who had so lovingly and efficiently cared for our mother during the last months of her illness, had consented to keep house for us. We were glad, for we loved Mary, and we knew she loved us. We were happy when Father told us that in the future he hoped to be at home with us much more than in the past. He had been appointed secretary of the Foreign Mission Board and to a number of important committees, and this work would keep him in Battle Creek much of the time. OMS 23.1

Cousin May Walling, Grandma White’s niece, who worked at the Review and Herald office, came to live with us. She occupied a large, front room and we also furnished one of the upstairs rooms and rented it to a lady who gave me a music lesson once a week in payment for her rent. Father bought a four-octave melodeon (organ) on which I could practice. OMS 23.2

At this time Mabel was 4 years old, and I was nearly 9. At last it seemed that we were going to have the opportunity of becoming acquainted with our father. On weekdays we seldom saw him except at mealtimes, for he did not confine his work to regular working hours. But we eagerly looked forward to Sabbaths when we could have him all to ourselves for the entire afternoon. OMS 23.3

As soon as the Sabbath dinner table was cleared and the dishes stacked to await their washing after sundown, we would gather up blankets and pillows, pencils, paper, and crayons, never forgetting our pocket magnifying glass. Thus equipped, we would head for the woods whenever the day was sunny. Near our house was a grove of oak trees, and here we would spread our blankets and settle down for the afternoon to enjoy the surrounding beauty and the music furnished by songbirds overhead. OMS 23.4

Our pocket magnifier had three lenses with varying magnifications. In awe we would watch as it transformed fragments of moss into verdant forests or the petals of a wild rose into robes of richest velvet. Often we were reminded of Jesus’ words inviting us to think about the flowers, which, though they take no anxious thought for what they wear, are clothed more gorgeously than King Solomon. OMS 24.1

Then we would gather leaves and, placing them one by one under our magnifying glass, would trace the course of life-giving sap up the stem, through the channel of the midrib, and out into hundreds of tiny veins to every part of the leaf. Our minds were filled with wonder, admiration, and love for the great Creator, who had made all these fascinating things for our pleasure. This colorless, odorless fluid appeared much the same in all the leaves and flowers. Yet it supplied the life-giving substance that manifested itself in a marvelous variety of form, color, and perfume. In the giant oak, this sap built stiff, green leaves and hard-shelled acorns, while to the delicate violet growing at the foot of the tree, similar-appearing sap gave rich purple color and delicate fragrance. OMS 24.2

How like the life of God, Father would point out, which nourishes our hearts and keeps us growing day by day into the likeness of Jesus! Although we differ from one another in appearance and characteristics, yet we can all reveal the power and love and wisdom of our Creator. Father would read to us Jesus’ words about flowers and birds that never worry but accept His free gifts of sunshine and rain and fresh air, and trust Him to make them what He wants them to be. OMS 24.3

On these little outings, Father usually brought with him one of the series of missionary biography books published by the Pacific Press. No made-up stories we ever read seemed half as thrilling as those true-life experiences of Livingstone, Carey, Judson, Moffat, Paton, and other brave people who risked their lives to bring the knowledge of God’s love to those who did not know Him. OMS 24.4

Before beginning to read, Father would always ask us to tell him the story he had read the previous Sabbath. If we could not do this satisfactorily, he would read those pages again before proceeding with a new chapter. In this way, we entered into the experiences of those brave heroes of God. In our imagination, guided by suggestions from Father, we fought lions, built huts, and calmed troubled souls and told them about a God who loved them. We ourselves were, for the moment, the missionaries of whom we were reading. And as we sat there—in Africa or India or wherever the story placed us—and told our favorite Bible stories to imaginary audiences the illusion often became very real indeed. OMS 24.5

After we had played missionary for a time, we would gather flowers or find different kinds of leaves, then perhaps outline them and color the outlines while Father rested. The program varied from Sabbath to Sabbath. Father might take us for a long walk through the woods, returning by way of the Sanitarium, where we could leave the wildflowers we had gathered with patients sitting in wheelchairs or resting in hammocks on the lawn. OMS 25.1

For months Mabel and I enjoyed this Sabbath-day companionship with our father until we began to feel that he belonged to us almost as much as he belonged to the General Conference. Then, without warning, our delightful together-times came to an end. The General Conference Committee asked Grandmother and Father to go to Australia for two years and help the missionaries who were working there. OMS 25.2

“But, Papa,” we protested, “two years is such a long time for you to be gone. Why can’t we go with you?” OMS 25.3

“Because I shall be traveling most of the time. We couldn’t have any settled home. Here in Battle Creek you have a comfortable home surrounded by friends, and Mary takes good care of you. You know there is an eight-grade school here in connection with the college. Frederick Griggs, who is to be the principal, has taken a special six-months’ course of study at a normal training school. Dr. Kellogg has invited Mabel to attend his Sanitarium kindergarten. Both of these schools are within a ten-minute walk of our home here. You will have Christian teachers and a chance to learn the most important things that will help to make you good missionaries.” OMS 25.4

Tearfully we kissed Papa and Grandma and Cousin May Walling goodbye. Cousin May went in place of Sara McEnterfer, who was sick with typhoid fever. Marian Davis, Grandma’s literary assistant, also accompanied them, and a new helper, Emily Campbell, joined the group. She would be bookkeeper, housemother, copyist, and all-round helper. OMS 25.5

We promised to write Father a letter every month, and he told us to be sure to mail it in good time to catch a steamer, which would take it from San Francisco to him in Australia. He promised to write to us often and tell us all about that part of the world. At the same time he assured us that if he ever managed to establish a home of his own, he would send for us to come and live with him. OMS 26.1

We two little girls did not realize how much harder it was for Father to leave us than it was for us to see him go. A few years back, while looking through a collection of old letters, I found one he wrote to Mary even before his ship sailed. It was in response to letters we had written to him after the party left Battle Creek. It was dated October 25, 1891, and he wrote from Oakland, California: OMS 26.2

“Miss Mary Mortensen, Dear Sister: OMS 26.3

“... I cannot tell you how much good it does me to hear from my dear little girls. I did not realize how I should miss them, and how hard it would really be to go off and leave them. Every sentence they write, and that you write about them, I read over and over again, and it is such a comfort to know that they are well, and that they are with someone who loves them.... OMS 26.4

“Friday I came down to San Francisco and spent an hour doing my holiday shopping. I have mailed to Mabel a little musical instrument, and a walking ostrich hitched to a cart. To Ella I have sent a little puzzle, which I hope she will enjoy. I hoped that these would get there near Mabel’s birthday. I also bought for Mabel’s Christmas a small set of pewter dishes, and for Ella, some magnetized floating animals which will sail around in a dish of water, after the little metal wand made for the purpose.... I wish you would get photographs of both Ella and Mabel, and send me half a dozen of each.” 1 OMS 26.5

Father kept his word, and we kept ours. While on board the Alameda, he wrote about shipboard happenings that he knew would be of interest to us: Nov. 15, 1891 OMS 26.6

“After dinner we were wishing that we could see a ship, or a fish, or something, when along came a nice school of porpoises. They appeared to be glad to see us, and swam alongside of the ship for five or ten minutes. Some of them were four feet long, and would weigh as much as you do. They would swim along beside us, as if in a race, and then they would jump out of the water just as far as they could jump. I tell you they were pretty fellows, and they could not have jumped nicer if they had been trained. OMS 27.1

“There are six or eight children on board, most of them about as big as Mabel. Two little boys are playing horse most of the time. And there are two little girls that talk Spanish. They have lived some years in Mexico, and there they only heard the Spanish, so they have forgotten their English, and now their mamma talks to them only in Spanish. OMS 27.2

“I am glad that you told me so much about your school. I want you to learn to read real good, and then you can read about the places that we are to visit. Your study of geography will show you where these countries are, and then when you hear about a place, you will know where it is and what grows there.” 2 OMS 27.3

Twelve days later, after a visit to the island of Samoa, he wrote: “Yesterday was Thanksgiving, and Grandma’s birthday, too. She is 64 years old. It was real nice to see her feeling so well and cheerful, after so long and tedious a journey.... OMS 27.4

“Save the stamps on this envelope, for sometime you will have a book to keep all sorts of postage stamps in.” 3 OMS 27.5

Every month before “Australian mail day,” all other duties and pleasures were laid aside, and we spent most of an afternoon writing our letters. Mabel dictated what she wanted to say to Aunt Mary, who wrote it down for her. In her first letter Mabel told about Jip, Mary’s canary. “His cage hangs by a cord from the ceiling of the bay window where Kitty can’t reach him. He sings to us every morning while we eat breakfast. We whistle to him, and he answers with a merry chirp.” OMS 27.6

The little bird provided much happy diversion for us. Each morning after breakfast Mary would fill his bath with fresh water and set it on the floor of the cage. Jip would splash, then fly to his perch and flip his wings dry. She would then clean his cage and fill his food and drink containers. On Sundays when we were home from school she would let him fly around inside the house for a few minutes. OMS 27.7

One day the kitchen door was left open by mistake. Jip flew out and perched on a lower branch of an apple tree. We tried in vain to coax him back into the house. Then we tried to catch him, but he kept just out of our reach and talked to us saucily when we approached him Finally, Mary boiled and mashed an egg and put it in a dish, which we placed on the floor of his cage. He could see the treat, but could not reach it from the outside. We hung the cage in the apple tree and waited for Jip to get hungry, watching every minute to see that nothing hurt him and hoping that he wouldn’t fly too far away. OMS 28.1

Jip enjoyed his freedom. He didn’t know how dangerous the big world could be for little canaries. After a while, he spied the egg and hopped in through the open door to get his supper. Our bird was safe, and we were happy. OMS 28.2

As Mary carried the cage into the house she remarked, “Now, Ella and Mabel, you can understand why your father put a fence around our house and told you never to go outside without permission. The big world is not always a safe or happy place for little boys and girls.” OMS 28.3

In response to Mabel’s story about Jip, Father wrote: OMS 28.4

“Melbourne, Australia, January 21, 1892 OMS 28.5

“To Miss Ella White, Miss Mabel White: OMS 28.6

“It made me very happy, a few days ago, when the big bundle of letters came, to find one from Ella and one from Mabel. As soon as the letters were given to me, I hurried home and sat down by the window and would hardly stop to answer questions till the letters from home were all read. OMS 28.7

“I was real glad to hear from Ella all about the Thanksgiving dinner at home ... and also about the nice exercises up at the school.... We had our Thanksgiving dinner on the ship, and it was just like the dinner of every other day. And when Christmas came, it seemed funny enough to have [it] right in the middle of the summer. OMS 28.8

“I was also glad that Mabel told me about your going down to Aunt Emma’s and about the birdie, and the pictures.... It does me lots of good to know that you were well and happy and that you have lots of good friends, and lots of good times.” 4 OMS 28.9

I wrote my own letters, because Father said he would like me to do so. It was a laborious task. Many of the words I used had to be spelled out for me, and sometimes I had to erase and write them again and again to get them just right. How excited we were when the Australian mail came in! It was like having a visit with Father, and sometimes with Grandma, too. Here is a part of one of his chatty letters: OMS 29.1

“Misses Ella and Mabel White July 7, 1893

67 North Kendall Street

Battle Creek, Michigan.

“My Dear Daughters:

“This is mail day, and I will write to you before I go over to the Echo office [publishing house] and get my head so full of other matters that I shall forget what I wish to say to you. Your letters of May 18 came to hand about a week ago.... OMS 29.2

“Since I wrote to you last, Sister Tenny has sold off her household goods and rented her house, and last Monday she and Ivers and Ruth left us, taking the cars [train] to Sydney and planning to sail for San Francisco on the Monowai, which leaves Sydney July 10. OMS 29.3

“When I thought of my two little girls at home and how I longed to see you, I could not help wishing that the time had come for me to go too. Well, I soon put these thoughts away, for the Lord who has sent me here has been so good to me and to you, keeping you well and providing for you so many kind friends that it is ungrateful and unbecoming to make a long face about the work He has given me to do. OMS 29.4

“What would Mary think if you should whine and cry about doing the dishes because you wanted to go and visit your dearest friends? No. You would say, That is not the way, let us hurry and do up the work first, and then our visit will be worth twice as much. This is the way I shall try to do. Work as hard as I can, and try to do in a right manner, and with an acceptable spirit what the Lord has given me to do here, and then when He brings me home to you we shall be much happier than if we had been complaining.” 5 OMS 29.5

And so the family tie with our father was kept as intact as possible through letters that made their slow way back and forth between Australia and Battle Creek. OMS 29.6

But Mabel and I were not the only faithful correspondents in our house. Mary sent regular reports of our progress and behavior. At least one of them would have caused me to blush with shame had I been able to read what she wrote to my father: OMS 30.1

“Ella is doing well in her music this summer. She is Tillie’s assistant in cooking. They are doing well. When I come home they have dinner all on the table, and it is well cooked. It is good practice for them. I think I have just the nicest little family. I take lots of comfort with my girls.... When they can get a surprise on me, then they think they have reached the highest point. OMS 30.2

“We all went to the Lake the other day. Had a very nice time. The children went in bathing twice. We went out with Brother Landis’ people; they have six children, so you may know we had a lively time.” 6 OMS 30.3

“I let Ella take one lesson a week in music. She was so anxious to keep on with it. I fear it will be too much for her. I think I shall have her drop music after a short time. Ella does not need any pushing when it comes to mental work. She has never fallen in love with physical labor; still she is gaining on that point. OMS 30.4

“Ella does a thing from principle, and she realizes that she can never be a perfect girl or woman till she is a good housekeeper. What she does she does well after she has had a few lessons in it. OMS 30.5

“If I should allow Ella she would spend a good share of her time in building air castles and laying great schemes for making money. While I think a little of that is all right for a child, too much, I think, is injurious to their best development. OMS 30.6

“Mabel is just the opposite. She loves to work and is just as happy as a lark when she is helping me. Mabel has no special taste for study, is very quick to learn when she sets about it. She never worries over anything. When she has her mind on her Sabbath school lessons she can tell the whole story by my reading them over once or at the most twice. OMS 30.7

“I do not want you to get the impression that Ella is not willing to help me, for she is. There is nothing that delights them any better than when they can do some of my work when I am away, and surprise me.” 7 OMS 30.8