The Fifty-Seven Cents Story

AT every point in Conwell’s life one sees that he wins through his wonderful personal influence on old and young. Every step forward, every triumph achieved, comes not alone from his own enthusiasm, but because of his putting that enthusiasm into others. And when I learned how it came about that the present church buildings were begun, it was another of those marvelous tales of fact that are stranger than any imagination could make them. And yet the tale was so simple and sweet and sad and unpretending.

At every point in Conwell’s life, we see him succeed through his remarkable personal influence on young and old alike. Every step forward and every triumph comes not just from his own enthusiasm, but from his ability to inspire it in others. When I learned how the present church buildings came to be started, I heard another remarkable true story. It was stranger than anything the imagination could invent. Yet the story was so simple, sweet, sad, and unpretentious.

When Dr. Conwell first assumed charge of the little congregation that led him to Philadelphia it was really a little church both in its numbers and in the size of the building that it occupied, but it quickly became so popular under his leadership that the church services and Sunday-school services were alike so crowded that there was no room for all who came, and always there were people turned from the doors.

When Dr. Conwell first took charge of the congregation that brought him to Philadelphia, it was a small church. It had few members and occupied a small building. But under his leadership, it quickly became very popular. Both church services and Sunday school became so crowded that there was not enough room for everyone who came. People were always being turned away at the doors.

One afternoon a little girl, who had eagerly wished to go, turned back from the Sunday-school door, crying bitterly because they had told her that there was no more room. But a tall, black-haired man met her and noticed her tears and, stopping, asked why it was that she was crying, and she sobbingly replied that it was because they could not let her into the Sunday-school.

One afternoon, a little girl turned back from the Sunday school door, crying bitterly. She had eagerly wanted to go, but they had told her there was no more room. A tall, black-haired man met her and noticed her tears. He stopped and asked why she was crying. Sobbing, she said it was because they could not let her into Sunday school.

“I lifted her to my shoulder,” says Dr. Conwell, in telling of this; for after hearing the story elsewhere I asked him to tell it to me himself, for it seemed almost too strange to be true. “I lifted her to my shoulder”—and one realizes the pretty scene it must have made for the little girl to go through the crowd of people, drying her tears and riding proudly on the shoulders of the kindly, tall, dark man! “I said to her that I would take her in, and I did so, and I said to her that we should some day have a room big enough for all who should come. And when she went home she told her parents—I only learned this afterward—that she was going to save money to help build the larger church and Sunday-school that Dr. Conwell wanted! Her parents pleasantly humored her in the idea and let her run errands and do little tasks to earn pennies, and she began dropping the pennies into her bank.”

“I lifted her onto my shoulder,” Dr. Conwell says, telling the story. I had heard it elsewhere and asked him to tell me himself, because it seemed almost too strange to be true. “I lifted her onto my shoulder.” What a lovely scene it must have been! The little girl went through the crowd, drying her tears and riding proudly on the shoulders of the kind, tall, dark man. “I told her I would take her inside, and I did. I told her that someday we would have a room big enough for everyone who came. When she went home, she told her parents that she was going to save money. She wanted to help build the larger church and Sunday school that Dr. Conwell wanted! I only learned this afterward. Her parents good-naturedly went along with the idea. They let her run errands and do small tasks to earn pennies, and she began putting the pennies in her bank.”

“She was a lovable little thing—but in only a few weeks after that she was taken suddenly ill and died; and at the funeral her father told me, quietly, of how his little girl had been saving money for a building-fund. And there, at the funeral, he handed me what she had saved—just fifty-seven cents in pennies.”

“She was a lovable little girl. But only a few weeks later, she suddenly fell ill and died. At the funeral, her father quietly told me how she had been saving money for a building fund. There, at the funeral, he handed me what she had saved: just fifty-seven cents in pennies.”

Dr. Conwell does not say how deeply he was moved; he is, after all, a man of very few words as to his own emotions. But a deep tenderness had crept into his voice.

Dr. Conwell does not say how deeply he was moved. After all, he rarely speaks about his own emotions. But a deep tenderness had entered his voice.

“At a meeting of the church trustees I told of this gift of fifty-seven cents—the first gift toward the proposed building-fund of the new church that was some time to exist. For until then the matter had barely been spoken of, as a new church building had been simply a possibility for the future.

“At a meeting of the church trustees, I told them about the gift of fifty-seven cents. It was the first gift toward a building fund for a new church that would someday exist. Until then, we had barely spoken about it, since a new church building was only a possibility for the future.

“The trustees seemed much impressed, and it turned out that they were far more impressed than I could possibly have hoped, for in a few days one of them came to me and said that he thought it would be an excellent idea to buy a lot on Broad Street—the very lot on which the building now stands.” It was characteristic of Dr. Conwell that he did not point out, what every one who knows him would understand, that it was his own inspiration put into the trustees which resulted in this quick and definite move on the part of one of them. “I talked the matter over with the owner of the property, and told him of the beginning of the fund, the story of the little girl. The man was not one of our church, nor in fact, was he a church-goer at all, but he listened attentively to the tale of the fifty-seven cents and simply said he was quite ready to go ahead and sell us that piece of land for ten thousand dollars, taking—and the unexpectedness of this deeply touched me taking a first payment of just fifty-seven cents and letting the entire balance stand on a five-per-cent. mortgage!

“The trustees seemed impressed, and it turned out they were far more impressed than I could have hoped. A few days later, one of them came to me with an idea. He thought it would be excellent to buy a lot on Broad Street, the very lot where the building now stands.” Characteristically, Dr. Conwell did not point out something everyone who knows him would understand. His own inspiration had moved the trustees, leading one of them to take this quick and definite step. “I talked with the property owner and told him how the fund began, with the little girl’s story. The man did not belong to our church. In fact, he did not attend church at all. But he listened carefully to the story of the fifty-seven cents. He simply said he was ready to sell us the land for ten thousand dollars. He would accept a first payment of just fifty-seven cents and let the entire balance stand on a mortgage at five percent. I was deeply touched by this unexpected offer!”

“And it seemed to me that it would be the right thing to accept this unexpectedly liberal proposition, and I went over the entire matter on that basis with the trustees and some of the other members, and all the people were soon talking of having a new church. But it was not done in that way, after all, for, fine though that way would have been, there was to be one still finer.

“It seemed to me that accepting this unexpectedly generous offer was the right thing to do. So I discussed the whole matter with the trustees and some of the other members, assuming we would accept it. Soon everyone was talking about having a new church. But in the end, it did not happen that way. Fine as that way would have been, there was to be an even finer one.

“Not long after my talk with the man who owned the land, and his surprisingly good-hearted proposition, an exchange was arranged for me one evening with a Mount Holly church, and my wife went with me. We came back late, and it was cold and wet and miserable, but as we approached our home we saw that it was all lighted from top to bottom, and it was clear that it was full of people. I said to my wife that they seemed to be having a better time than we had had, and we went in, curious to know what it was all about. And it turned out that our absence had been intentionally arranged, and that the church people had gathered at our home to meet us on our return. And I was utterly amazed, for the spokesman told me that the entire ten thousand dollars had been raised and that the land for the church that I wanted was free of debt. And all had come so quickly and directly from that dear little girl’s fifty-seven cents.”

“Not long after I spoke with the landowner and heard his surprisingly generous offer, I was scheduled to preach one evening at a Mount Holly church. My wife went with me. We came home late, and it was cold, wet, and miserable. But as we approached our home, we saw lights on from top to bottom. It was clearly full of people. I told my wife that they seemed to be having a better time than we had. We went in, curious to find out what was happening. It turned out that our absence had been planned, and the church members had gathered at our home to greet us on our return. I was utterly amazed when their spokesman told me that the entire ten thousand dollars had been raised. The land I wanted for the church was free of debt. And all of it had come so quickly and directly from that dear little girl’s fifty-seven cents.”

Doesn’t it seem like a fairy tale! But then this man has all his life been making fairy tales into realities. He inspired the child. He inspired the trustees. He inspired the owner of the land. He inspired the people.

Doesn’t it seem like a fairy tale! But this man has spent his whole life turning fairy tales into reality. He inspired the child. He inspired the trustees. He inspired the landowner. He inspired the people.

The building of the great church—the Temple Baptist Church, as it is termed—was a great undertaking for the congregation; even though it had been swiftly growing from the day of Dr. Conwell’s taking charge of it, it was something far ahead of what, except in the eyes of an enthusiast, they could possibly complete and pay for and support. Nor was it an easy task.

Building the great church, called the Temple Baptist Church, was a major undertaking for the congregation. The congregation had grown rapidly since Dr. Conwell took charge. Even so, only an enthusiast could have believed they could build the church, pay for it, and support it. Nor was the task easy.

Ground was broken for the building in 1889, in 1891 it was opened for worship, and then came years of raising money to clear it. But it was long ago placed completely out of debt, and with only a single large subscription—one of ten thousand dollars—for the church is not in a wealthy neighborhood, nor is the congregation made up of the great and rich.

Construction began in 1889, and the building opened for worship in 1891. Years of fundraising followed to pay off its debt. But the debt was paid off long ago, with only one large donation, of ten thousand dollars. The church is not in a wealthy neighborhood, and its congregation is not made up of prominent, rich people.

The church is built of stone, and its interior is a great amphitheater. Special attention has been given to fresh air and light; there is nothing of the dim, religious light that goes with medieval churchliness. Behind the pulpit are tiers of seats for the great chorus choir. There is a large organ. The building is peculiarly adapted for hearing and seeing, and if it is not, strictly speaking, beautiful in itself, it is beautiful when it is filled with encircling rows of men and women.

The church is built of stone, and its interior is a large amphitheater. Great care has been taken to provide fresh air and light. There is none of the dim religious lighting associated with medieval churches. Behind the pulpit are rows of seats for the large choir. There is also a large organ. The building is especially well suited for hearing and seeing. It may not be beautiful in itself, strictly speaking, but it is beautiful when filled with surrounding rows of men and women.

Man of feeling that he is, and one who appreciates the importance of symbols, Dr. Conwell had a heart of olive-wood built into the front of the pulpit, for the wood was from an olive-tree in the Garden of Gethsemane. And the amber-colored tiles in the inner walls of the church bear, under the glaze, the names of thousands of his people; for every one, young or old, who helped in the building, even to the giving of a single dollar, has his name inscribed there. For Dr. Conwell wished to show that it is not only the house of the Lord, but also, in a keenly personal sense, the house of those who built it.

Dr. Conwell was a man of deep feeling who understood the importance of symbols. He had an olive-wood heart built into the front of the pulpit. The wood came from an olive tree in the Garden of Gethsemane. The amber-colored tiles on the church’s inner walls bear the names of thousands of his people beneath the glaze. Everyone who helped build the church, young or old, has a name inscribed there, even those who gave only one dollar. Dr. Conwell wanted to show that the church was not only the house of the Lord. It was also, in a deeply personal sense, the house of those who built it.

The church has a possible seating capacity of 4,200, although only 3,135 chairs have been put in it, for it has been the desire not to crowd the space needlessly. There is also a great room for the Sunday-school, and extensive rooms for the young men’s association, the young women’s association, and for a kitchen, for executive offices, for meeting-places for church officers and boards and committees. It is a spacious and practical and complete church home, and the people feel at home there.

The church can seat 4,200 people, although only 3,135 chairs have been installed. The aim was to avoid crowding the space unnecessarily. There is also a large room for Sunday school and plenty of room for the young men’s and young women’s associations. There is a kitchen, executive offices, and meeting rooms for church officers, boards, and committees. It is a spacious, practical, and complete church home, and the people feel at home there.

“You see again,” said Dr. Conwell, musingly, “the advantage of aiming at big things. That building represents $109,000 above ground. It is free from debt. Had we built a small church, it would now be heavily mortgaged.”

“You can see again,” Dr. Conwell said thoughtfully, “the advantage of aiming high. That building represents $109,000 above ground. It is debt-free. If we had built a small church, it would now have a heavy mortgage.”