d sugar
in the cupboard. At Thanksgiving time, many a good basket-full of
pies and chickens found their way to her humble door; and when she had
received them, she would raise her hands and eyes to heaven, and thank
the Lord for his goodness, and ask for a blessing upon the kind hearts
that sent the gifts. She did not always know who they were, but she was
sure she should see them and love them in heaven.

The only thing that seemed to trouble old Dinah was that she couldn't
help others; that she couldn't do any thing for her Lord and Saviour.
"I am so black and ugly," she would say, "and so old and lame and poor,
that I a'n't fit to speak to any body; but I'll pray, I'll pray."
She managed to hobble to church; and there, from her high seat in the
gallery,--poor colored people must always have the highest seats in
the house of God,--she could look all around the congregation. She took
especial notice of the young men and women that came into church; and
what do you think she did? Why, she would select this one and that one
to pray for, that they might be converted. She would find out their
names, and something about them; and then she would ask God, a great
many times every day, that he would send his Holy Spirit to them, and
give them new hearts. They didn't know any thing about her, of course,
nor what she was doing. By and by, she would hear the glad news that
they had come to Christ. Then she would choose others. These were
converted, too; and by and by there was a great revival in the church,
and many sinners were saved. After a time, there came a large crowd to
join the church, and number themselves among the Lord's people; and poor
old Dinah saw twelve young men, and several young women stand up in the
aisle that day, and give themselves publicly to God, whom she had picked
out and prayed for in this way. Oh, she was so happy, then! Her old
eyes overflowed with tears of joy, and she couldn't stop thanking and
praising God.

Now this was the good old creature that Henry Wallace thought might have
to go to another heaven, because her skin was black. Do YOU think God
would need to make another heaven for her? No, indeed. But I'll tell
you, dear children, what I think. If there is a place in heaven higher
and nearer God than another, that's the place where poor old Dinah will
be found at last. I think that those who love God most, whether they are
black or white, rich or poor, learned or ignorant, refined or rude, w