Not very long after poor Joe was removed to Folsom, the call of God took me to another beautiful ocean-resort—Pacific Grove. It was only a short journey. There was no one to welcome me, for I was a stranger, but in less than twenty-four hours one of the Lord's loved ones, a widowed sister, Mrs. Hill, now departed to her eternal home, welcomed me under her roof. On the following evening I was introduced to Miss Fannie Rowe and her mother. The former lady, in gratitude to God for wonderfully raising her up instantly from a state of helplessness and affliction of many years' duration, had consecrated her all to him, and, in addition to innumerable responses to calls for prayers and financial aid, had opened and was supporting a mission in the Grove, another in the adjacent town of Monterey, and one for the Indians, situated at The Needles, Ariz. I gladly responded to her kind invitation to address the patrons of Bethel mission one evening. She gave liberally toward helping to procure the home for the wandering girls.

Many were the private requests for personal work with those who were too young and inexperienced to realize that their attitude and heedless words and deeds were having a demoralizing tendency upon themselves, their schoolmates, and others. This work, let me assure you, dear reader, calls for special prayer for wisdom, diplomacy, and deep love. Young people, especially girls at the difficult age (between thirteen and eighteen), are very hard to persuade, if their earlier training has not been as wise as it should have been. Therefore permit me to advise much and earnest fellowship and prayer with the Father before making any efforts of this nature with them. A false move too often creates rebellion, frequently followed by disastrous results.

But to proceed. An invitation came from the chaplain of the Presidio of Monterey to visit army quarters, situated between the two towns. There I was taken through every department and afterwards invited to address a large body of stalwart young soldiers. You may be sure that, as I did so, my mother heart tenderly went forth to them, as I thought of my own precious son, who was now on the high seas and whom I had the privilege of seeing so seldom, and then only for short visits.

After luncheon with the chaplain and his wife we visited the hospital. I was, as usual, accompanied by my autoharp, and so was able to give a little cheer to the many lonely, suffering ones as well as to speak briefly about the Great Physician and also pray for them. It was all very sad, yet so precious. I would that I could, in the name of Jesus, have temporarily mothered one and all of them. They appeared to be so appreciative, and to be suffering as much from homesickness as from the many other ailments.

Every church threw its doors open to me, the interest grew, God blest my every step, and I (by faith) saw our hopes soon realized. About this time a letter forwarded from Santa Cruz, postmarked San Jose, reached me, telling of the return of the president and also the vice-president of the board of rescue home managers, and urging my return for a conference with them in regard to much renovation and also enlargement of their borders, for the present home was now altogether inadequate to its necessities.

Earnest prayer failed to bring me light on this matter. I could only await God's time. Then came a loving letter from my dear Lucy, stating that her mother had fully recovered and reminding me of my promise to spend my birthday with her and her dear ones. There being no reason why I should not accept, I bade farewell to many newly-found friends, and in a few hours I was being warmly embraced, also overwhelmed with kindness and gratitude, by my spiritual daughter and her refined, delicate-looking mother.

Imagine, if you can, how I, for several days, fared. It was most embarrassing, but very, very precious to my soul, especially so when one day Lucy followed her Savior's example in baptism in the presence of her family, her mother, and me. Placing her wet arms about my neck, she rejoiced my heart by saying, "O Mother Roberts, I've just had a wonderful vision of Jesus, and I want to say this to you: Much as I love my mother and dear ones, I would rather continue with you in the work if you'll take me; will you, dear?" "Will I? I should say I will," I answered, and gladly, humbly, thanked and praised God for the blessed privilege. So not long afterwards we took our departure for Los Angeles, our next field of labor, and, permit me to add, at this time a difficult one. There was an agitation on foot for the closing of all the questionable resorts, and this meant much strenuous, problematical work on the part of the agitators. Amongst these I make mention of the, late Rev. Sidney Kendall, a noted writer and rescue worker, a person who proved to be one of our very valuable friends and advisers during our sojourn in that great and beautiful city (Author of the "Soundings of Hell," etc.)

Matters, through correspondence with the San Jose board, were now assuming such shape that indications were that we should soon return to that place. In the meanwhile we were much occupied, through the daytime largely, in making personal visits to the poor outcasts, who were in great stress of mind at this time. Consequently, many returned to their parental homes, others were taken care of or furnished with situations, but not nearly so many as we could have wished, and all for lack of finances. Oh, how I have wished that those who pray God's will to be done in their lives would only mean it and live up to their prayers, professions, and privileges. What a rich harvest the Master, at the final summing up, could then reap! but alas! not many live the prayer.