She possessed a nature almost Puritanic in its abhorrence of sin, and in
the strength of its moral convictions. She feared to do wrong more than
she feared any man. With this supremacy of the moral sense there went
along singular firmness of purpose and independence of character. When a
mere slip of a girl she was called upon to choose between regard for her
religious convictions and regard for her family. It happened in this
wise. Fanny Lloyd's parents were Episcopalians, who were inclined to
view with contempt fellow-Christians of the Baptist persuasion. To have
a child of theirs identify herself with this despised sect was one of
those crosses which they could not and would not bear. But Fanny had in
a fit of girlish frolic entered one of the meetings of these low-caste
Christians. What she heard changed the current of her life. She knew
thenceforth that God was no respecter of persons, and that the crucified
Nazarene looked not upon the splendor of ceremonies but upon the
thoughts of the heart of His disciples. Here in a barn, amid vulgar
folk, and uncouth, dim surroundings, He had appeared, He, her Lord and
Master. He had touched her with that white unspeakable appeal. The
laughter died upon the fair girlish face and prayer issued from the
beautiful lips. If vulgar folk, the despised Baptists, were good enough
for the Christ, were they not good enough for her? Among them she had
felt His consecrating touch and among them she determined to devote
herself to Him.
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