They will still bear fruit in old age. Welcome back to Hackberry House, a podcast devoted to the Word of God and the persecuted church of North Korea. My name is Bob. This is podcast number 590. It is October 11. Well, Fannie J. Crosby, still bearing fruit in her 80s. Yeah, in her 80s. My goodness. And I was so concerned about how old I am and complaining. Come on. She's way past me now and still going strong. Life begins at 80, it says in Chapter 20. Bernard Ruffin's 1976 book about Fanny Crosby. Fanny was away as much as she was home. Whenever she was in Bridgeport, she held open house on Thursdays, which meant that anyone who cared to come could come and talk with the celebrated hymn writer. The rest of her time was spent working with the king's daughters at the Christian Union. Even in her 80s, Fanny found little time to rest. Resting was for old people, and she was young. she said. During the fall of 1903, she appeared at the East Baptist Church in Kensington, Long Island, sharing the platform with her great friend, Eliza Hewitt, before the audience of 600. A local newspaper reported that save for the heavy green glasses she wore and the peculiar manner in which she thumbed a little book which contained her notes in the raised letters of the blind, no one would have imagined that she was sightless. She seemed to be glancing here and there over the lecture room, and frequently referred to sight in a way, which would lead one to infer that she possessed it, physically as well as mentally. Of course, Fanny had the reporters fooled, for as we have seen, she almost never used Braille, and her thumbing through her little book was simply a nervous habit. At any rate, Fanny spoke of her blindness. A great many people sympathize with me, she said, smiling sweetly, but although I am grateful to them, I really don't need their sympathy. What would I do with it? You see, I was blind from the time I was six weeks old. I never knew what it was to see with my eyes. Yet when I was six years old, I could climb a tree like a squirrel, ride a horse bareback. I wrote my first piece when I was eight years old. She went on to speak of hymn writing. It was my life's work, and I cannot tell you what pleasure I derived from it. I believe I would not live a year if my work were to be taken away from me. Fanny had one of the most gratifying experiences of her life in November of the same year. She was in Lynn, Massachusetts, speaking at the YMCA. And as usual, she recounted the story of how she came to write some of her hymns. On this occasion, she told how Rescue the Perishing was inspired by the conversion of a young working man who rejoiced, now I can meet my mother in heaven, for now I have found her God. Well, after the meeting, several people came to shake hands with her. Among them was a man whose voice did more shaking than his hand. Fanny was dumbfounded when he proclaimed, Miss Crosby, I was that boy who told you more than 35 years ago that I had wandered from my mother's God. That evening you spoke, I sought and found peace, and I've tried to live a consistent Christian life ever since. If we never meet again on earth, we will meet up yonder." Without another word, he left without giving his name, but Fanny was deeply moved by this nameless friend who touched a deep chord of sympathy in my heart," she wrote later. In January, Fanny, accompanied by her niece, Ida Leschen, set out on a grueling speaking tour by train. They journeyed first to Philadelphia, where Fanny held a series of evangelical meetings. Traveling north, they went to Albany, New York, then to Rochester, where Fanny honored various speaking engagements. She was now a national celebrity, at the very pinnacle of her fame. And a newspaper in Rochester observed that there was scarcely a religious service in the United States where at least one of her hymns was not sung. One thing that struck those who saw and heard the blind speaker was her youthful manner. Now, her face and form did indeed betray her age, although not to the extent as had been the case in the few years before she left New York. But her voice, her mind, and her movements were all those of a woman in her prime. And on the basis of this, reporters observed that Madame Crosby could have passed for 20 years less than her actual age. Fanny and Ida were back in Bridgeport for only a matter of days before it was time to go to New York. February 2, the 40th anniversary of Fanny's association with Bigelow and Maine, was to be the occasion of a special celebration in the firm. Many of her old friends and colleagues were present at the banquet, prepared by Louise Main and Fanny Sankey. There was Duane, whom Fanny cited as the one who did much to bring my songs to the front in the early days. Now the jolly old professor, Kirkpatrick, was there too, as was George Stebbins. These and many others assembled to honor the poet, who had more than any other person helped to make Bigelow and Main one of the leading publishers of church music in the English-speaking world. At the ceremonies, Fanny was presented with a golden brooch studded with pearls. Although many were complaining that the firm had overworked Fanny, she herself had been glad to do the work, even if for little pay and at the expense of her talent for writing truly good poetry. It was a work she did for the Lord, and she thanked her friends for 40 years of blessings, peace, and tranquility, like the dew of Hermon dew on the mountains of Zion. Two of Fanny's good friends were absent from the festivities. One was her hostess in New York, Miss Phoebe. You remember Phoebe Knapp. We're going to skip about a page that they spend on her. Before she left New York, Fanny called upon her second old friend, who was not present at the banquet, Mr. Ira Sankey. For a year now, he had been stone blind, sitting quietly in deep depression at his house in Brooklyn, living with his memories and awaiting death. He had not been well after returning from Europe in 1901, and the rest at Battle Creek had helped only temporarily. Moreover, things were not improved when the manuscript of an autobiography on which he was working was lost in a fire that destroyed the sanitarium while he was there. Starting over from scratch, he had not yet finished when, in January 1903, his sight began rapidly to fail. It was discovered that he was suffering from glaucoma. And in February, surgery was performed, but with no success, for the disease was too far advanced. Rumors began to spread that Sankey had gone blind, but Ira instructed his family to deny them, since he hoped to recover. He did not want to alarm his friends unnecessarily. However, as the rumors grew more persistent, his sons, Alan and Edward, called a press conference the first week in March, in which they confirmed that their father had indeed lost his sight. Now, Fanny had been devastated upon learning that her never-failing friend was, like her, bereft of sight, and she made regular trips from Bridgeport to see him in Brooklyn. She tried her best to help and encourage the singer, whom she usually found in tears. She would sit with him, read scripture to him, as it were, and pray with him and encourage him to sing with her some of the hymns they had written together. She succeeded in improving his spirit somewhat, for whenever she left, Ira told his wife that he felt as if an angel hand of strength had been held out to him. Her presence has been to my heart as a healing balm. Indeed, Sankey's family and friends were sure that the chalice full of consolation which Fanny Pratt wonderfully helped Ira in the physical and spiritual trial through which he was passing. Unlike Fanny, who never knew any condition but blindness, Sankey lost his sight when he was too old, or thought he was, to begin life over again. He managed to finish the autobiography in truncated fashion, but after that he simply gave up. He no longer tried to compose tunes and appeared no more in public. Life was over. Death was the only thing left to hope for. So Sankey spent the rest of his days sitting in his bedroom, lost in memories, or sitting at his harmonium, playing over and over again the songs of happier days. In early July, Fanny, along with Carrie, journeyed west to Buffalo, where she was the major speaker at a Christian endeavor convention. Despite her advanced years, she spoke three times a day, often to crowds of more than 3,000, and not only gave sermons, but also lectured on mission work and the methods of hymn writing. On one Sunday in Buffalo, she preached twice, at 1030 at the Delaware Avenue Methodist Church and at noon at the Central Presbyterian Church. In all her appearances in Buffalo, Fanny deeply moved her hearers, but never as many as on the night when Carried away by an impulse, she rose and joined the soloist. On that night, a baritone was singing Saved by Grace, which was still immensely popular. Fanny, who was scheduled to speak later, sat behind him on the platform. And suddenly, when the soloist, Jacobs, came to the third stanza, Fanny spontaneously leaped to her feet and began to sing, someday when fades the golden sun beneath the rosy tinted... Well, the notes at first seemed quavering and faltering, as one might expect of an 80-year-old woman. And Jacobs lowered his powerful voice so that hers might be heard by the audience. But as the chorus, and I shall see him, Face to face progressed. Her voice became higher and stronger until it filled the entire hall and held the audience spellbound with its beauty and pathos. There was much weeping when she and Jacobs finished their impromptu duet. Well, it was spontaneous acts like this one, as much as her prepared talks and sermons that tended to make hearts captive to the little old lady ancient garb, and to the gospel which she proclaimed. From Buffalo, stopping to lecture at various places on the way, Fanny, still in the company of her sister, made her way to Binghamton. People marveled at her almost miraculous vitality. It amazed even Carrie, who, although more than 20 years her sister's junior, nevertheless remarked, she can tire out everyone present and then go home fresh. Someone asked Fanny in Binghamton how long she was going to continue her vigorous activity. How long am I going to travel and lecture? Always. There's nothing that could induce me to abandon my work. It means nothing to be 84 years of age because I'm still young. What's the use of growing old? People grow old because they're not cheerful. Cheerfulness is one of the greatest accomplishments in the world. Fanny felt that as long as she kept busy, she'd always be young. She often reiterated that she doubted whether she would live a year if she were somehow forced to abandon her work. It was this that kept her going. Fanny always made an effort to be at home for two occasions, her mother's birthday and Christmas. She and Carrie and Jewel and Ida still celebrated Mercy's birthday as if she were alive. That's her mother. The sisters and Ida would put a fresh vase of flowers beneath Mercy's huge photograph and set a place, a table for the deceased matriarch. Fanny would recite a poem she would wrote each year in honor of mother dear, just as she had when her mother was alive. Christmas was a happy occasion. Fanny and her sisters usually celebrated the feast day at the home of niece Laura. There the whole Morris clan would reassemble. Henry and Florence Booth and their children, Florence and Ralph, and so on and so on. Albert Morris, Jr. later recalled that his grand-aunt, though slight and spent, displayed a ready wit. There was a family dinner in which Fanny would enliven the lulls in conversation with humorous poems composed on the spot. And then in the afternoon, while the children rested, Fanny made little gifts to be put into the grab bag, which provided the evening's entertainment. She made up humorous little poems, which were copied and distributed to every member of the family. She loved to play with the children. And on one occasion, her grandnephew, Ralph Booth, begged her to go for a ride on his sled. To the absolute horror of the parents, Aunt Fanny gladly consented and seated herself on the sled while he pulled her around the backyard. in the snow. Oh, my. In early March 1905, Fanny, in the company of Carrie, left for a lecture tour of more than two weeks. And on the 5th, she spoke at the YMCA at Fitchburg, Massachusetts, to 750 people, packed into a hall built for only 650. The audience sang several of her hymns before a clergyman from the area read a passage of scripture. And Fanny stepped forth holding a little book tight in her hands. She gave no sermon or lecture as such, but as she did so often, she told about her life, about how God had enabled her to overcome her handicap, and how he had inspired her hymns. She then discussed and interpreted nine of her most popular hymns. After the clergyman had delivered the benediction, Fanny proceeded to greet and shake hands with the audience, and it was estimated that she shook at least 350 hands that night. Well, on March 24, Aunt Fanny would be 85. To honor her, a group of New York clergymen, with the encouragement of Hugh Maine and Alan Sankey, decided to hold a Fanny Crosby Sunday in churches on March 26. Adelbert White served as a secretary of the Fanny Crosby Day Committee, and Mrs. Ann Cobham, whom Fanny frequently visited served as assistant. Together, they saw to it that the celebration was publicized nationwide. Now, Fanny Crosby Day, her hymns would be used exclusively. Ministers of all denominations would preach on her life as an example of Christian witness. Well, Fanny was nonplussed when she learned of the honor, but she made no attempt to stop the plans. Am I pleased, she asked rhetorically. In response to a question, certainly. Who would not be? Just so long as the celebration in honor of my work is by those who have loved my songs, both the celebration and the contemplated offering will be like the crowning blessing at the close of a long and busy life." She wanted to make certain it was God and not Fanny who received the glory. And so the celebration was held. Fanny Crosby Day was observed not only in America, but in England and such unlikely countries as India and Tasmania. She received many tributes, including letters of congratulation from common folk and places she had never visited. A lady from Mississippi sent some flowers she had gathered. A tribute came from Grover Cleveland in Princeton. Fannie had frequently visited him ever since he moved there after the end of his second term and had given him much comfort when he had recently lost his eldest daughter. He commended her for her continuous and disinterested labor in uplifting humanity pointing out the way to an appreciation of God's goodness and mercy. Fanny attended a reception given by Hugh Maine a few days early. On her birthday, she appeared at a reception at the First Methodist Church in Bridgeport. Looking like a fragile flower, the poet appeared with Reuben and Mary Currier and was led to a special pew that was draped with an American flag. Well, the crowd was so huge that it filled not only the large sanctuary, but also the Sunday school rooms. In her address, Fanny thanked God for all the kindness and affection shown her in the last few days and throughout her long life. She said, as I realized the source from which they have come. And we will just let it go right there. It's just about the end of that chapter. Can you believe only four chapters to go? I may not read every one of those. I'm looking through one of them that may not be necessary, but just about there. I gotta tell you, this is costing me 15 cents a day now. Don't you know this is a library book? I have renewed it three times so that I could read every word to you, and it's still going to be overdue. They won't let me renew it again. All I have to do is pay 15 cents a day, but it's so worth every penny. And I'm just playing, of course, about that. Although it is the truth. The scripture we started with today, and don't forget, tomorrow we go to Ecclesiastes again. No, yes, let's go to Ecclesi... No, let's go ahead with Fanny Crosby. What do you say? Let's do that. We'll continue on with Fanny until we are done, which would be, what? Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Monday. Unless I decide to shorten it. We're just about finished. Thank you for staying with me on this. Don't forget Psalm 92, 14, and it is Hopefully your verse too, they will still bear fruit in old age. Let Fanny encourage you not to give up, whether you're 35 and think you're dying and ancient, or you're 95. There's no end until God says it's over. Amen? God bless you today. so so