Thumb through the pages of almost any ladies’ magazine printed before 1906 and you’ll undoubtedly find an advertisement for Lydia Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound.
Lydia Pinkham’s products—in pill and liquid tonic form—were the “go to” cure-alls for generations of women.
Original early 1900s packaging with insert for Lydia Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound pills. (From Pinterest.)
The principal ingredients of Lydia Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound were licorice and alcohol (anywhere from 18-20%), so it wasn’t taste that drove women to consume the product in record numbers.
It was, instead, Lydia Pinkham and her incredible marketing skills that turned her home-made tonic into a multi-million dollar business in less than ten years.
A typical Lydia Pinkham trade card.
Timing also played a role in Lydia Pinkham’s success. In the late 1800s mainstream medical science spent little time studying female anatomy; and strict standards of modesty ensured that generations of women were woefully ignorant about their own bodies and how they functioned.
Many Lydia Pinkham’s trade cards featured pleasant artwork, a “soft sell” that was pleasing to women.
Enter Lydia Pinkham, who established herself as a kindly grandmother who patiently and delicately taught ladies about menstrual cramps, menopause, and everything in between.
One of the images of Lydia Pinkham that adorned the company’s labels over the years.
Labels for her products bore her likeness. Her pills and tonics promised to cure menstrual cramps, correct a prolapsed uterus, reverse diseases of the ovaries, and chase the blues away.
The company’s advertising cards encouraged women to think of Lydia Pinkham as a member of the family, as with this trade card which purports to show an image of her grandchildren.
She gave away millions of free “educational” pamphlets, with topics covering sewing, cooking, history, and women’s common health issues; throughout each publication, the benefits of Lydia Pinkham’s products were extolled and promoted.
This example of the company’s “Famous Women in History” pamphlet included several typical “testimonials” used in many Lydia Pinkham ads. Click on the cover to view the entire pamphlet.
Lydia herself received thousands of letters from women every year, and each letter received a personal answer.
Cover of Lydia Pinkham’s pamphlet, “Simplified Sewing.”
But there were secrets about Lydia Pinkham and her business empire. The most incredible secret was that by the time Lydia’s products became famous nation-wide, she had been dead for decades.
And those reply letters written to women asking for help with a health problem—they were not written by Lydia Pinkham. Instead, they were written by employees, copied from proscribed templates, and they always included a recommendation to buy more Lydia Pinkham products.
Female employees answering mail. After the company was forced to admit Lydia Pinkham did not personally answer all letters, it used the revelation to its advantage, publishing this and other photos of its team of female employees answering mail. The company advertised: “Every letter opened by a woman, seen only by a woman. No boys around.”
When Congress passed the Pure Food and Drug Act in 1906, the company was forced to disclose the contents of Lydia Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound in clear terms on their labels. For the first time, women—including members of the Women’s Christian Temperance Union—discovered that their favorite tonic contained a high level of alcohol.
In addition to print ads, the company gave away millions of free promotional items, such as sewing kits, thimbles, tape measures, and this lace tatting shuttle.
The new government requirements also forced the company to curtail its previous advertising claims that it could, among other things, cure “all weaknesses of the generative organs” and that it was “the greatest remedy in the world” for diseases of the kidneys.
A Lydia Pinkham newspaper ad from the 1920s, cleverly disguised as “real” news.
Thanks to the company’s inventive advertising, Lydia Pinkham’s products saw strong sales throughout World War I, Prohibition (despite the tonic’s alcohol content), the 1930s and 1940s. In fact, Lydia Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound is still sold today in major drug stores and online sites like Amazon. And just as previous generations of women used to write letters extolling the virtues of the products, today’s customers post reviews of Lydia Pinkham’s Vegetable Compound on the Internet, demonstrating, once gain, that the company remains as adaptive as ever.
In honor of Mothers’ Day, here is a letter Isabella published in an 1895 issue of The Pansy magazine:
Dear Young People:
I notice that the Juniors all over the country are going to talk about “Troubles” at one of their [Christian Endeavor] meetings this month. Some people think that boys and girls never have troubles. I know better.
I remember distinctly when I was twelve years old, I had a very large trouble one day. I wanted to take a ride with my brother, and mother thought it was too cold for me to go out. I coaxed a good deal, until father told me in a very decided tone to say no more about it; that of course I could not go.
I remember I went upstairs to my room, which was not warmed, and sat down in a dreary little heap in the corner and cried. I told myself that I was a most unfortunate little girl; that I could never go anywhere nor do anything like other girls, because my mother and father were always afraid of my taking cold. I said I wished I was old enough to do as I liked; and I should be too happy to live when the day arrived that I could do as I pleased, and have nobody say, “You cannot go here, or do this, or that.”
Poor silly me! Did you ever know a girl who acted like that? But I honestly thought it was real trouble. Let me tell you something. A good many years have passed since then. Mother and father have long since gone away where I cannot hear their voices. Nobody says to me now, “You cannot go to such a place, or wear such a thing.” I am free to do as I please, so far as words are concerned; but sometimes I sit and think it all over, and it seems to me I would give almost anything I have in the world, just to hear my dear mother’s voice saying, “No, my daughter, you cannot go this morning.”
Do you get my thought? Some of the things which we call troubles, grow in after-years into blessings which we miss and mourn.
Another thing, out of my imaginary trouble I made a real one. I sat in that chilly room brooding over my wrongs until I took cold, and was ill for days. Mother had to watch with me at night, and father had to go more than once over the long cold road for the doctor. I have seen people since who made their troubles for themselves.
All the same, I know that young people have real troubles, sometimes; and whether real or imaginary, they want, every one of them, to be taken to the same great Physician. Pity the boy or girl who does not know Him well enough to call upon Him for help.
Women toiled long hours in kitchens to make meals, preserve food for future use, launder clothing and linens, and heat water for baths and house-cleaning tasks.
A modern kitchen in 1914
Even when the lady of the house had help in the kitchen—a live-in maid or a local “girl” who came for the day—they still spent the majority of their time in the kitchen, where conditions could be extreme.
An American kitchen, circa 1900
In many households the kitchen stove burned 24 hours a day. The stove was stoked early in the morning to raise the heat so water could be boiled and breakfast could be cooked. It then burned throughout the remainder of the day until bedtime. In winter the kitchen was the warmest room in the house. In summer the kitchen was sweltering, with inadequate ventilation and no escape from the heat.
Baking Bread in 1914
Isabella’s book Ester Ried opens with a scene in the Ried kitchen, with Ester toiling in the kitchen on a hot day:
It was a very bright and very busy Saturday morning.
“Sadie!” Mrs. Ried called, “can’t you come and wash up these baking dishes? Maggie is mopping, and Ester has her hands full with the cake.”
“Yes, ma’am,” said Sadie, appearing promptly from the dining-room, with Minnie perched triumphantly on her shoulder. “Here I am, at your service. Where are they?”
Ester glanced up. “I’d go and put on my white dress first, if I were you,” she said significantly.
And Sadie looked down on her pink gingham, ruffled apron, shining cuffs, and laughed.
“Oh, I’ll take off my cuffs, and put on this distressingly big apron of yours, which hangs behind the door; then I’ll do.”
“That’s my clean apron; I don’t wash dishes in it.”
“Oh, bless your careful heart! I won’t hurt it the least speck in the world. Will I, Birdie?”
And she proceeded to wrap her tiny self in the long, wide apron.
Later in the book, when Ester returned home after a lengthy visit with her cousin:
Ester was in the kitchen trimming off the puffy crusts of endless pies—the old brown calico morning dress, the same huge bib apron which had been through endless similar scrapes with her.
Not all aprons were as large as the kitchen apron Ester wore. In fact, ladies often had different aprons for different tasks.
Work aprons were large and covered the entire front of a woman’s dress. They had plenty of pockets for thimbles, spools of thread, needles and pins, or any other household item the lady of the house wanted to have immediately at hand as she went about her daily housekeeping chores.
A 1910 photograph with the women of the family wearing three different styles of apron.
At the other end of the spectrum, tea aprons were feminine half-aprons that tied around a lady’s waist and covered her lap as she entertained family and guests at tea or luncheon.
Aprons were relatively simple to make; popular ladies’ magazines often featured apron patterns or embroidery and trim designs to customize a home-made apron. In 1922 the Woman’s Institute of Domestic Arts and Sciences published a pamphlet of instructions for making a variety of different aprons. You can download a copy of here.
A 1904 magazine ad for Green Brand aprons.
Now, as in Isabella’s time, aprons come in many styles. And though they are no longer a staple in a woman’s wardrobe, there are many women today who love to make and wear aprons.
A 1914 ad for Dutch Cleanser
Want to see what’s hot in aprons today? Here are two sites that sell aprons:
The Bible is full of golden texts of inspiration and maxims of sound doctrine, but Zephene Hammond thinks they’re just words on a page. Although she considers herself a Christian, she doesn’t think those Bible verses have any real meaning in her life.
So when her Sunday school teacher challenges Zephene to look at the golden texts with fresh eyes, Zephene reluctantly takes up the challenge. Before long, Zeph sees that the Bible really can fit into her daily life and help her become a girl who always tells the exact truth.
This 1890 classic Christian novel was first published as a serial in The Pansy magazine. Click on the cover to begin reading The Exact Truth now.
If you are at a loss how to proceed, which way to turn, remember your Father’s letter of full and explicit instructions. Go to it and Him for direction. Following this rule there is no possibility of mistakes.
An 1894 issue of the Christian Intelligencer printed this letter from a young reader of the magazine:
“We have a league in our school; perhaps you have heard of it before? It is called the Anti-Cigarette League. I am a member of it. Arthur Brown.”
A 1903 hand-colored photgraph
When Isabella Alden saw that brief letter, she took up the cause of promoting the Anti-Cigarette League to young readers of her own magazine, The Pansy.
An undated ad for Moorhouse’s Cigars
Smoking among boys—and even some girls—was not uncommon in the late 1800s. Cigarettes were readily available and manufacturers targeted their cigarette ads directly at children.
For over 50 years tobacco companies inserted collectable cards into their product packages and encouraged consumers to “collect them all.” This card, one of a series of 50, equated the wholesome Boy Scout organization with cigarettes.
There were no restrictions on how cigarettes were made, so cigars and cigarettes were often laced with opium, strychnine, and arsenic.
Illustration on the lid of The Fritz Bros. & Co. cigar box.
They were inexpensive, too; cigarettes made of inferior tobacco and paper sold for mere pennies, and some saloons and retailers gave cigarettes away to children so they would become addicted and return to purchase more.
Cigarette pack trade card, 1908.
Isabella was disgusted by such practices and wrote an article on the topic that appeared in Christian magazines, including The Pansy. Her opening paragraph was powerful:
The “Boy-Killer”
This is a startling name which a prominent New York physician gives to the cigarette. He describes the vile thing as made of tobacco soaked in nicotine, which has in it several other deadly poisons. Even the paper in which it is wrapped is whitened with arsenic. He declares that the lists of deaths found daily in our papers, caused by “heart-failure,” ought most of them to read, “caused by cigarette smoking.”
She was fighting an up-hill battle. For every physician who believed cigarettes were dangerous, there were dozens who believed cigarette smoking was helpful to patients. Doctors prescribed cigarettes to cure a variety of complaints, from asthma to stuttering to nervous conditions.
An undated trade card for a carriage and buggy dealer
But Isabella was convinced cigarette smoking was dangerous, especially for growing boys. She wrote:
One cannot walk the streets of any town or village without having cigarette-smoke puffed in one’s face, from the lips of mere boys.
She felt it was her duty to explain to parents the risks of smoking for children, and she didn’t shy away from using her pen to spread the word.
Artwork from a promotional calendar distributed by a tobacco company in 1893.
To put it in brief: at the time our story opens, Paul Adams was an ignorant, good-natured, tobacco-chewing, cigar-smoking street loafer. He smoked cigars when he could get them. Not that he began by being particularly fond of them—in fact, he found it unusually hard work to learn. He had to devote to this accomplishment the courage and perseverance that would have told well for him in other directions; but it is a taste that once acquired a boy will gratify if he can.
In Chrissy’s Endeavor, Chrissy Hollister learns her own brother Harmon is heading down a dangerous path, when his health begins to fail. Chrissy’s father gives her the bad news and asks her to “get such an influence over Harmon as would induce him to give up late hours, and late suppers, and cigarettes.”
The Women’s Christian Temperance Union, of which Isabella was an active member, used their regular weekly newspaper columns to warn parents of the perils of tobacco.
From The Enterprise (Wellington, Ohio). September 13, 1893.
By the early 1900s the tide shifted; the public and the medical community began to reconsider the effects of smoking on health. Although the tobacco companies continued to glamorize cigarette smoking, churches and communities banded together to raise public awareness about the dangers of smoking. They petitioned lawmakers to enact legislation to eliminate tobacco sales and ran articles and warnings in newspapers across the country.
From The Bemidi Daily Pioneer (Bemidji, Minnesota). May 18, 1907.
Schools began educating children about the dangers of smoking and found unique ways—like this essay contest—to drive the lesson home:
The Willmar Tribune (Willmar, Minnesota). June 7, 1922.
These efforts—and millions more like them—laid the foundation for the regulations and laws we have today that prohibit cigarette companies from selling and marketing tobacco products to children.
Would you like to learn more? Stanford School of Medicine researched the impact of tobacco advertising. Click here to see more examples of tobacco company advertising.
You can also click here to see vintage advertising from the late 1800s and early 1900s on Isabella’s Pinterest board.
We Twelve Girls is now available for your e-book reader!
It’s a sad day at the Clayville boarding-school for young ladies, where twelve students—best friends all—must leave school and return to their homes in different parts of the country. But before they depart, their Bible class teacher gives each girl a book of verses and charges them to select one verse a week to apply to their lives.
That simple assignment ignites a year of discovery as each young lady learns—in very practical ways—what it means to live a God-centered life according to the Bible.
This edition of the 1888 classic Christian novel is complete and unabridged.
In upper- and middle-class homes across America at the turn of the last century, the man of the house had one room that was his exclusive domain: The study.
Old photo of Ralph Waldo Emerson’s study, Concord, Massachusetts
The study was a place where the man of the house took quiet refuge. In his study he took care of business matters, wrote letters, or read his newspaper or favorite book in solitude. In some of Isabella’s books, like Jessie Wells, the local minister locked himself away in his study to work on his sermon or write letters to the members of his church.
Another view of Emerson’s study.
In Isabella’s books, the rooms designated as studies had common characteristics: a bookcase filled with books, a desk or large study table, and sufficient light to read by once the sun went down. In her novel As in a MirrorIsabella Alden described John Stuart King’s study this way:
The walls were lined with many rows of well-filled shelves, and a searcher among them would hardly have failed of finding every choice book of the season, as well as the standard volumes of the past. A bookcase devoted to standard magazines was crowded almost to discomfort, and the large study table was strewn with the very latest in newspaper and magazine.
The president’s study at a small training college
Even little Daisy Bryant understood that the study was a special room in the house. The eight-year-old heroine of Miss Dee Dunmore Bryantlived with her mother and siblings in cramped quarters; but Daisy designated one small section of their main room to be their study:
The floor had a neat strip of rag carpeting over in the part which Daisy called “the study.” There was also a little square table over there, with the Bible on it, and Daisy’s geography, and Ben’s arithmetic, and a tiny basket that held Line’s crochet work. At first, Daisy had objected to the crochet work—that it did not belong to a study—but one evening, in the very middle of Miss Sutherland’s study table, what did she see but a fluffy ruffle with Miss Sutherland’s needle set in its hem, and her thimble lying beside it! Since that time the crochet basket had held peaceable possession.
In the story Miss Sutherland lived in the big house on the hill; and since Daisy’s mother often did sewing for Miss Sutherland, Daisy had seen the Sutherland’s study when she delivered completed work to her. Daisy dreamed of one day living in a home with a real study, just like the Sutherland’s had, with plenty of books, and with framed mottoes on the walls.
Undated photo of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s study, Cambridge, Massachusetts
There was a common understanding—sort of an unwritten rule—that no one but the man of the house was allowed in the study except by invitation. After Perry Harrison had an argument with his wife in From Different Standpoints, he retreated to his study, where he knew he would not be interrupted, and he could calm down after their angry exchange:
When Perry came back from the station, after seeing the party off, he shut himself up in the study, not seeing his wife until dinner-time. Then all traces of emotion had disappeared, and he was the affable gentleman exerting himself to be entertaining.
Retailer Jordan Marsh advertisement for a suite of home furniture appropriate for a study or library.
Because the study usually was the bastion of the man of the house, it was only natural that others did not find the place calming and comfortable. If a father had to scold a recalcitrant son or daughter, he called the child into his study. If a minister felt the need to counsel a wayward congregant, he did so in private in his study. Under those circumstances, the study became less like a quiet refuge and more like a place where wrong-doers were brought to account and punishments were doled out.
That thought was uppermost in the minds of Eurie, Marion, Ruth, and Flossie in The Chautauqua Girls at Home when they had to summon their courage to visit their minister, Dr. Dennis, in his study.
“Doesn’t it make your heart beat to think of going to him in his study, and having a private talk?”
“Dear me!” said Flossy. “I never shall think of such a thing. I couldn’t do it any more than I could fly.”
Early photo of the study at the Adams mansion in Quincy, Massachusetts.
Later, when Ruth went to speak with Dr. Dennis about finding work she could do for the church, she found herself alone with him in that dreaded room:
It was a place in which she felt as nearly embarrassed as she ever approached to that feeling. She had a specific purpose in calling, and words arranged wherewith to commence her topic; but they fled from her as if she had been a school girl instead of a finished young lady in society; and she answered the Doctor’s kind enquiries as to the health of her father and herself in an absent and constrained manner.
Charles Dickens’ study, about 1922.
But in one of Isabella’s books, the tables were turned on the man of house. In The Hall in the Grove, Dr. Monteith—the driving force behind the town’s Chautauqua Literary and Scientific Circle—was in his study when Paul Adams complained to him that the Circle put more emphasis on studying books about ancient Rome than on studying the Bible. Dr. Monteith was shocked.
Seated in the beautiful little study, by the green-covered table, under the shaded light, the Doctor looked full into the earnest troubled face of his visitor. “Now, my friend, do I understand you to mean that the experiences which you have had with the Circle led you to think that we gave the most important place to other books, and shoved the Bible out?”
You would have been sorry for Dr. Monteith, could you have seen his distressed face. He arose and began to walk back and forth in the little study, pondering how he could best undo what his heart told him had been grave mischief.
Dr. Monteith knew that the Bible was “first, best, purest, highest; incomparably above any and all other books.” He had to do some quick soul searching to figure out how he had misled Paul Adams—as well as an entire Chautauqua Literary and Scientific Circle—so far away from the foundation of all knowledge, the Bible.
Once Dr. Monteith realized his error, the atmosphere in his study changed dramatically. He apologized to Paul Adams and assured him that reading and knowing about the Bible was not the same as reading and knowing the Bible. And before Paul left his study, Dr. Monteith led the young man to make a momentous decision concerning his future and his soul.
So the study was sometimes an important setting in Isabella’s books, as well as in her short stories. In 1888 Isabella published “Papa’s Study”, and you can read it here for free:
PAPA’S STUDY
It was a very beautiful room, so crowded with books, and papers, and conveniences of all sorts, that you would have supposed its owner could have nothing to wish for, and must be a happy man. Yet on the morning about which I am telling you, he did not look in the least happy; on the contrary, if you had counted the wrinkles between his hair and his eyes, and could have seen the puckers around his lips, which were hidden by a heavy moustache, you would perhaps have called him cross; and you would not have been very far from the truth. Something had happened that morning which made him feel like being cross with everybody.
“To think that I should have forgotten it!” he was saying to his wife, speaking in an injured tone, as though somebody was certainly to blame. “I would not have had it happen for ten, no, not for fifty dollars; and there he was, I suppose, at the depot, looking in all directions for me, and the train waited here fully twenty minutes for the down express. We might have had time enough to settle the whole business. It is too provoking to endure.”
Nevertheless, he knew it would have to be endured, for the train had been gone at least an hour.
“Why didn’t you make a memorandum of it?” his wife asked, taking fine stitches in the ruffle she was making, and speaking in that calm , even tone which is sometimes really irritating to excited people.
“Why, I did, of course; and this morning I looked for my diary to see if there was anything which needed attention before mail time, but I had changed my coat and left it in the the other pocket. A diary is simply a nuisance, anyway; it is always in some other pocket when one wants it the most. I’d like to know how a busy man like myself, who has three ways to go at once, can be expected to remember everything.”
Nobody had told him that he was expected to do any such thing, but he spoke as sharply as though someone had, and walked the floor, and looked wrathful.
Poor man! He had been sadly disappointed. Besides missing a very important bit of business by his forgetfulness, he had missed the sight of a friend whom he very much wanted to see.
Now, his little daughter Almina was in the library annex, hidden from view by heavy curtains, but within distinct hearing; and if you could have seen her I am afraid you would have thought she acted very strangely. Instead of looking thoughtful and sympathetic over her father’s troubles she clasped her two pretty hands together and indulged in a series of happy little giggles. You see, she knew something which her father did not.
In order to have you understand, I shall have to go back a few days. The father’s birthday was coming, and Almina knew it; I am not at all sure that the father did, for he was so busy a man that he forgot even that. And Almina had, with her own hand, written, and, what was much harder, addressed a letter all herself, to a certain “Mr. Frank Smith, Toledo, Iowa.” Truth compels me to state that she spoiled three envelopes before accomplishing it to her satisfaction. In the first one she made the letter F look so much like a T that it read like Mr. Trunk Smith, and she felt sure that would not do; and then, because she had visited once in Toledo, Ohio, and heard about it all her life, and had never heard of Toledo, Iowa, what did she do but write it out nicely on the second envelope—Toledo, Ohio. Of course that wouldn’t do. By this time she was nervous, and blotted the third one badly, but at last it was well done, and the letter was sent.
On the very morning of which I write, there had come an answer to her letter, in the shape of a lovely business-like looking package, done up in heavy paper, and packed in burlap and excelsior, and when her eager fingers reached the treasure thus carefully guarded, it was the prettiest walnut affair, with a lock and key, and inside, a row of compartments bearing the names of the months and the dates; and so arranged that memoranda of what ought to be done, even weeks ahead, could be slipped in, and would remain out of sight until the morning of the day when they were needed, when they would drop into view, and beg to be looked at.
“If papa had only had his lovely little Office Tickler,” she said to herself, as she giggled musically, “he wouldn’t have missed seeing Mr. Felt this morning, I mean to tell him that if he had been forty-three last week, instead of tomorrow, it would have been all right. Oh! I do wonder if there is something he ought to remember tomorrow, and might forget. I mean to ask mamma.”
So the moment she could get a private audience with mamma, they two put their heads together over the fat old diary, whose sides were bursting with important papers too heavy for it to carry. They looked carefully down the page for April 11th, papa’s birthday, but it seemed to be an unusually quiet one. However; the next day made up for it; item after item of business crowded itself in to receive attention; foremost was this:
“MEM. Be sure to remember to send Seward’s note to the bank before three o’clock. It is in the left-hand drawer of the lower secretary.”
“Oh! look,” said Almina, “that is very important, isn’t it? Because papa has underlined it; and yet it is hidden in between so many other things to do, he will be quite likely to forget it. Oh, mamma! Couldn’t you get it for me to put in the Office Tickler?”
Mamma promised to try, and she tried, and accomplished it. There was great fun in the pretty library the next morning. Papa admired the beautiful walnut box to even Almina’s satisfaction, and assured her that it was the most ingenious little creature he had seen in many a day, and he was sure it would save him much time and patience. And then he heard all about how she earned the money to buy it, and “wrote the letter her own self,” and “had it come by express to her own address;” and he called her a dear little woman of business, and kissed her as many times as he was years old.
And all the time the important paper which was to be remembered the next morning without fail, was hiding behind its partition, biding its time.
The next morning Almina had forgotten all about it, but at eleven o’clock her father came hurriedly into the music-room where she was practising, and stooped down and kissed her.
“Papa ought to be tickled now in good earnest,” he said with a curious mixture of fun and earnestness in his voice. “What will my little girl think when I tell her that her Office Tickler has saved me at least five hundred dollars? I did forget all about the note, important as it was. This is a very busy, anxious day with me; but just as I was hurrying to go to the bank, I caught sight of my new possession, and saw I had not changed the date; I had not begun to use it yet, but I determined to gratify you by leaving it in order; and the moment I touched the card, out dropped that very forgotten note. I’m in great haste, little daughter, but I felt as though I must stop and tell you what a valuable selection you had made for my birthday present.”
A very happy little girl was Almina, then.
An actual 1887 newspaper advertisement for F. E. Smith’s Office Tickler.
You can find plenty of work if you look for it; only don’t look too far, because it is the little bits of things, which come right in your way, that Jesus wants you to do.
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Isabella Alden 