3. More About Papa

There were several guests at the Stricklands’, that day, besides ourselves. After dinner, we assembled in the parlor where our host made a flowery speech about his bees; how he had loved to watch them at their work; what an inspiration they had been to him; and how good was our Heavenly Father to endow these little creatures with a spirit of self-sacrifice in the interest of their mysterious society… Then he presented papa with a glass jar of strained honey.

I was to learn much later of Papa’s grateful response. He replied with an anecdote from the story of King David. Once, when a hard battle was raging within a few miles of his boyhood home, David had remarked that he wished he had a drink of water from that old well in Bethlehem. That night, two of his aides, at great risk of their lives, crept through the enemy’s lines, and returned with a hornful of water from the historic well. But King David would not drink it. It had cost too much. It was better that he should go thirsty than drink such precious water. So—he poured it on the ground.

“It is in this spirit,” said Papa, soberly, “that I accept the precious gift that has meant so much to you, Brother Strickland. This valued honey will not be eaten. It shall occupy a place of honor on our mantel at the parsonage, and all who visit us will be told the inspiring story of it.”

It wasn’t long until the whole community was buzzing more busily than the Strickland bees. The stingy old fellow discovered that he had done himself up. His hostility to Papa came out into the open. People were taking sides and going to bat.

While this tempest in a teapot was rising to a cyclone, we were unexpectedly visited by a brilliant young man who had been one of Papa’s favorite disciples when he was Superintendent of the Whitley County Schools in Indiana. Our guest was experimenting with a banking plan in the public schools, to encourage pupils to start savings accounts. He wanted Papa to go to some prosperous Midwestern city and try it out for a few months.

I suppose that Papa, by now, needed very little urging. Any port in a storm!

Within a month we had settled up our affairs in Kentucky and were on our way back to Columbia City where we rented a house and moved in. A few days later, Papa packed his bag and left for Des Moines, Iowa, where he was to experiment with the new banking project. Mama cried and cried. She had been so happy in Kentucky.