The New York Times/The House of a Hundred Sorrows
In room 24 is Rose, a house-mother of 10. Father is in the hospital. Mother is crippled with rheumatism. Rose does all the work. You would love Rose if she came out of Dickens. Well, there she is, mothering her mother in room 24. In room 20 age has been toiling for youth. Grandmother has been taking care of three granddaughters who lost their mother. A brave old woman; but what with rheumatism and heart weakness, three score and ten can't go out to work any more. What's going to happen to her and her charges? Thinking of that, she is ill on top of her physical illness. A very interesting house, isn't it, Sir? Decidedly "a rum sort of place," Madam? Come into room 23. Simon, the dollmaker—but handmade dolls are "out"—lives, if you call it living, here. Eighty years old, his wife of about the same age. Their eyesight is mostly gone. Otherwise they would still be sewing at buttons and earning a scanty livelihood for themselves and two little girls, their grandchildren. The girls object going to an orphan's home. Some children are like that.
You must see those twin sisters of 65 in room 47. True, they are doing better than usual on account of the coming holidays; making as much as $10 a month, whereas their average is but $6. Still rents are a bit high; and the twins have been so long together that they would like to stay so. In room—but you need no guide. Once in the House of a Hundred Sorrows you will visit every sad chamber of it. If your heart be made of penetrable stuff you will do the most you can to bring hope and comfort to its inmates, to bring them Christmas and the Christ.
For I was an hungered and ye gave me meat; I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink; I was a stranger, and ye took me in.
Naked, and ye clothed me; I was sick, and ye visited me; I was in prison, and ye came unto me.