Melissa Whiteside had devoted many years toward the support of this church. Somehow in her busy daily routine she found time to "raise preacher money and missionary money," as well as to fill baskets with food an carry them to the sickk and needy," and although clothing was largely the work of her hands, ther was always some to be shared with those without."
In her spare time she knit practical items, like stockings for Jessie.
Jessie wrote further about her mother:
"Mother was steward in our little church and her duty was to keep a record of all money given. It was momentous moment to stand, tiptoe at her side and watch as she wrote, "a dollar for Jessie." And while I had no money of my own--had I not given? There it was, a matter of record in this important book. Those were days when a dollar was a sacrificial offering. Our preacher did not receive much in the way of money, but he did not have to buy his living--that was given in offerings of our nicest fruits and vegetables, chicken, and oftentimes, a ham. Yes, and precious butter, churned in an old fashioned crockery churn with a wooden dasher which seemed endless task to a child who kept watching for the butter to come. To fill the preacher's buggy with the very best we had to offer was a job and the blessing we felt as he drove away has never been forgotten. And I believe today that if we do not give freely that we do not experience the blessing which giving brings.."
In her spare time she knit practical items, like stockings for Jessie.
Jessie wrote further about her mother:
"Mother was steward in our little church and her duty was to keep a record of all money given. It was momentous moment to stand, tiptoe at her side and watch as she wrote, "a dollar for Jessie." And while I had no money of my own--had I not given? There it was, a matter of record in this important book. Those were days when a dollar was a sacrificial offering. Our preacher did not receive much in the way of money, but he did not have to buy his living--that was given in offerings of our nicest fruits and vegetables, chicken, and oftentimes, a ham. Yes, and precious butter, churned in an old fashioned crockery churn with a wooden dasher which seemed endless task to a child who kept watching for the butter to come. To fill the preacher's buggy with the very best we had to offer was a job and the blessing we felt as he drove away has never been forgotten. And I believe today that if we do not give freely that we do not experience the blessing which giving brings.."
Melissa Whiteside had devoted many years toward the support of this church. Somehow in her busy daily routine she found time to "raise preacher money and missionary money," as well as to fill baskets with food an carry them to the sickk and needy," and although clothing was largely the work of her hands, ther was always some to be shared with those without."
In her spare time she knit practical items, like stockings for Jessie.
Jessie wrote further about her mother:
"Mother was steward in our little church and her duty was to keep a record of all money given. It was momentous moment to stand, tiptoe at her side and watch as she wrote, "a dollar for Jessie." And while I had no money of my own--had I not given? There it was, a matter of record in this important book. Those were days when a dollar was a sacrificial offering. Our preacher did not receive much in the way of money, but he did not have to buy his living--that was given in offerings of our nicest fruits and vegetables, chicken, and oftentimes, a ham. Yes, and precious butter, churned in an old fashioned crockery churn with a wooden dasher which seemed endless task to a child who kept watching for the butter to come. To fill the preacher's buggy with the very best we had to offer was a job and the blessing we felt as he drove away has never been forgotten. And I believe today that if we do not give freely that we do not experience the blessing which giving brings.."
In her spare time she knit practical items, like stockings for Jessie.
Jessie wrote further about her mother:
"Mother was steward in our little church and her duty was to keep a record of all money given. It was momentous moment to stand, tiptoe at her side and watch as she wrote, "a dollar for Jessie." And while I had no money of my own--had I not given? There it was, a matter of record in this important book. Those were days when a dollar was a sacrificial offering. Our preacher did not receive much in the way of money, but he did not have to buy his living--that was given in offerings of our nicest fruits and vegetables, chicken, and oftentimes, a ham. Yes, and precious butter, churned in an old fashioned crockery churn with a wooden dasher which seemed endless task to a child who kept watching for the butter to come. To fill the preacher's buggy with the very best we had to offer was a job and the blessing we felt as he drove away has never been forgotten. And I believe today that if we do not give freely that we do not experience the blessing which giving brings.."
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