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WINNIPEG in those days was the Mecca of the fortune
seeking and the land hungry from the older portions of the Empire and from
other countries as well. For all Scotch folk, and for all folk of
Presbyterian extraction, connection or leaning, the Presbyterian minister
was the natural resort for all in need of advice, of guidance, of cheer,
of aid financial and other, and the minister’s home became a kind of
Immigration Office, a General Information Bureau, an Employment Agency, an
Institution for Universal Aid. This meant to the minister that his time
and strength, and often his money, were at the command of all who came to
his door. To his wife it meant a good deal more. For not only did they
keep open house, but an open table as well. This necessitated a
larder continually stocked, a kitchen
never anything but busy. This was hard enough upon the mistress of the
house, with her young family about her, and her congregational duties
demanding her time, strength and thought; but for all ordinary exigencies
Mrs. Robertson was always ready. But when at the dinner hour her husband
calmly ushered in some half dozen or dozen hungry folk, if her nerve
failed her for the moment, what wonder? There was, however, no breakdown
of the spirit of hospitality, and no failure upon the part of either
minister or minister’s wife to show kindness to the stranger. By the
minister this was accepted as a part of his regular duty, and as affording
a valuable opportunity of service. By the minister’s wife, as part of the
burden, not to say cross, laid on her as her husband’s wife.
But through all the years of the
Knox Church pastorate no immigrant called on Mr. Robertson in vain for
aid, and none was turned away from that hospitable door. Many years
afterwards one of these immigrants, remembering gratefully his kindness to
the stranger, thus writes:
"On my arrival in Winnipeg
twenty-four years ago, at that time a town of five thousand people, I
called on Mr. Robertson who was then pastor of Knox Church. He came with
me at once and guided me to a desirable hotel where our family of seven
persons could be accommodated. Besides, he spent a forenoon in aiding me
to get my effects through the Customs, a thing that a stranger could not
do.
"Nearly every day he was called on
by some strangers from the Old Land and from our Eastern Provinces with
many questions to ask, and he patiently heard them and intelligently
answered them. He knew more of the Prairie province than
most
men, and newcomers were always befriended by him. Knox Church was then a
large congregation, and rapidly becoming larger, and demanded much of his
time. But with all the pressure upon his time, he never complained of
being overburdened in seeing to the wants of newcomers from other lands.
"I know of some instances of men
who, when they came to our
Province, were short of funds. Though Mr. Robertson had no money to spare,
they came to him in their distress and he handed them what money they
wanted. And I have the best of reasons to
believe that these borrowings were never repaid."
Patience of spirit was by no means a
striking characteristic of Mr. Robertson in those eager, busy years. But
for the stranger, lonely, poor, heart-sick, his patience never failed.
Often imposed upon, he never sent men away without an attempt, at least,
to meet their wants. They came to him for meals and lodgings, and he took
them in. They came seeking work and he tramped the street with them. They
came selling extraordinarily unuseful articles and he purchased of them
all. His wife remembers one unhappy agent selling coat hangers from whom
the minister bought half a dozen, though at the time he had only a single
coat needing a hanger. Another day a gentleman too proud to beg and too
honest to borrow, offers for sale a pair of high riding boots. The
minister buys them for $6.00, though he knows they are sizes too small. He
is gaining experience and other things besides, for which he is paying
dear, but ever without a grudge. The time will come when in settlements
far away he will meet those who will think it joy to serve him and for his
sake the cause he loves.
After many years had passed, a
friend of his came upon one of those who counted it honour to do him
service. This friend writes:
"I drove up to a comfortable looking
homestead. The house was built of logs, not grand, but comfortable. The
barn, however, was truly magnificent and thoroughly equipped with the most
up-to-date appliances for scientific stock-raising. I had never seen
anything like it even among the wealthy farmers in Ontario. The stables
were full of horses and in the fields far away a large herd of cattle
could be seen. It was evidently a farm of great prosperity, and indicated
growing wealth.
"In the house I found an old Scotch
lady and her two sons, fine young fellows. I mentioned the name of Dr.
Robertson and at once the shrewd old face took on a different look. It
seemed to fill up with kindness, and she began to talk. She had a
remarkable story to tell.
Twenty-one years before, she, with
her husband and two baby boys, had come to Winnipeg. They had not much
money, and all they had they invested in an ox-team, waggon and general
outfit. They spent a Sunday at the immigration sheds in Winnipeg. The
Presbyterian minister came down to preach to the immigrants in the
afternoon. The place was uncomfortable and crowded. Her baby was fretful,
and so the mother sat outside the door; it was a warm spring day, and
there she listened to the sermon. She could not see the preacher’s face,
but she gave me a good bit of that sermon. The theme was Abraham and his
northwest adventure, and the parallel was drawn between him and these
people who were about to seek their fortune in the West. The two main
thoughts that the old lady carried with her for these twenty years were
these: ‘God is going with you. Do not be discouraged. Never give up hope,’
and ‘You are going to make a new country, build your foundations for God.’
She remembered the grip of the minister’s hand as next day he went with
them far out on to the prairie to set them on their westward journey, and
how standing there he bade them a cheery farewell and watched them almost
out of sight. His words of cheer stood them in good stead on that journey.
As they neared the Portage plains they found the prairie one great wide
expanse of black mud and water through which laden teams were frantically
struggling, trying to get through. Again and again the husband was forced
to unload his stuff, the mother holding her two babies in the waggon, till
at last in despair he was for turning back. But the wife would not hear of
it. The words of the preacher rang in her heart, ‘Never fear. God is with
you. Don’t turn back.’ And they did not.
"They reached their location and
began to farm. Within two years her husband died and the mother with her
two little boys were left alone. But the neighbours were kind. She could
get plenty of work to do. She did the washing for the bachelors round
about, and baked bread for the villagers. She had no one with whom she
could leave the children, but back and forward she went with her washing
and her bread, leading one child by the hand and carrying the other upon
her back, going barefoot through the water of the slough to save her
boots.
"Her people in Scotland were anxious
to have her return home, but she would not. She believed that God was with
her and that she should not turn back. To-day, with a section and a half
of the best land that the sun shines on, with barn and stables, cattle and
horses, she has proved again that God keeps His promises. And often
through these years by her devotion to the cause he represented, has she
shown her gratitude to the minister who preached to her in Winnipeg that
day and whose words upheld her for many a day afterwards."
But many are the stories that could
be told of the wider ministry of the pastor of Knox Church of that day in
behalf of those needy immigrants, and many of these same immigrants, now
prosperous merchants or wealthy farmers, remember with grateful hearts and
hearty greeting, the sympathetic hearing, that firm, strong, downward grip
of the hand of the Presbyterian minister of Winnipeg to whom they appealed
for help when help was needed, and never vainly. |
