Dazzling, radiant Hope! —What a change thou bringest to the hopeless; brightening the darkened paths, and cheering the lonely way.AIMEE SEMPLE MCPHERSONHE KEPT A FIRE constantly burning in the woodstove throughout the days. He might have spent his childhood in the equally bitter Philadelphia winters, but years spent in temperate California had thinned his blood.The first order of the day was breakfast, and as the bacon sizzled in the pan, he thanked God for the generosity of Uncle Edward’s neighbors. One by one they’d trickled by, always carrying some grocery gift —pies, sausages, loaves of bread, jars of pickled beets.“We didn’t know your uncle well,” they’d said, bearing the burden for his misanthropic ways, “but we hope you’ll feel welcome just the same.”Always Max smiled, took the gift, and thanked them for their hospitality, though clearly the true motives changed depending on the giver. Matrons came with jars of hearty soups for the poor young transplant. Little boys, banded together in groups of three or four, had combined their pennies to bring him bottles of ketchup or Coca-Cola, and they contorted themselves to get a glimpse of the house behind him, no doubt allaying their fears that its previous owner was some kind of child-eating monster.And then there were the young women.
