COMPLAINTS
Louisa Pratt struggled to shelter and feed her four daughters while her husband was away on his mission in the South Pacific. Before leaving, Addison had purchased some lumber, but not enough for Louisa to build a house on their city lot. Since she owned some land in a neighboring state, she went to a nearby lumber mill and asked to purchase lumber on credit, with her land as collateral.
“You need not doubt a woman,” she told the miller, worried he would deny her credit because of her gender. “As a general thing, they are more punctual than men.”
The miller had no qualms about selling to her on credit, and Louisa soon had the wood she needed to build a small frame house. Unfortunately, the men she hired to do the work were a continual disappointment, forcing her to hire others until she found reliable workers.
While the house was under construction, Louisa worked as a seamstress. When her daughters came down with measles, she watched over them night and day, praying for their recovery until they got well. From all appearances, she seemed to be managing well under the circumstances. But she often felt lonely, inadequate, and helpless to bear the burden on her shoulders.
Once the house was finished, Louisa moved her family in. She installed a rug she had made herself and furnished the home with items she purchased from her earnings.
As the months passed, Louisa and the girls survived on her small income, bartering and purchasing on credit while she paid off her debt to the miller. When their food ran out and Louisa had new debts to pay, the children asked, “What shall we do, Mother?”
“Complain to the Lord,” Louisa said dryly. She wondered what her prayer would sound like. Would she complain about the people who owed her money? Would she rail against those who had not paid her for the work they hired her to do?
Just then a man arrived with a heavy load of wood for her, which she could sell. Then another man arrived with a hundred pounds of flour and twenty-five pounds of pork.
“Why, Mother,” her daughter Frances said, “what a lucky woman you are!”
Overwhelmed with gratitude, Louisa decided to withhold her complaint.
Excerpt from Saints, Volume 1, Ch 43