Miriam Berry Whitcher Speaks Her Mind [ 41 ] In her letters, Miriam continually referred to her financial struggle. One of the more interesting ways in which clergymen were helped was a yearly "donation!' This was an annual party given at the minister's house sometime during the winter. The congregation brought food and gifts. Miriam went into great detail over their first donation party. Being new to the community and basically reserved, she anticipated the affair with trepidation. When it was safely concluded she was gratified by the generous support the parish showed in welcoming them. We were waited upon the other day to know if we were willing to have a donation party. Of course we could not decline. I believe it is proposed to give it on Thanksgiving day. They tell me that all I have to do is to sit still & grin & bear it. A committee of ladies is appointed to attend to everything. They go round & ascertain who will provide what, so that there is no confusion, & no overplus of one thing & lack of another. They come to the house, bring everything necessary—for the entertainment. One lady is appointed to receive the donations. I expect we shall have rich times. How I wish you could be here. I expect it will be a trying time to me. I do not feel like seeing so much company. But the congregation would be offended if we should decline. They calculate on a donation party every year.37 There was some question in Miriam's mind whether the donation party helped or hindered the clergyman and his family. In The Widow Bedott Papers, Aunt Maguire described the negative aspects of such gatherings. Why, if I was a starvin to death, I shouldent be willin' to act as some o' them folks did. They pushed, and elbowed, and pulled, and hauled, and grabbed like crazy critters. 'T was amusin to see 'em put down the vittals—I'd a gin a sixpence, Nancy, to had you there; 't would a ben fun for you to look on and see the dewins. You'd a thought the biggest part o' the. company hadent had nothin' to eat since the last donation party, and dident expect to have nothin' more till the next one And I wish you'd a seen the Widder Grimes. Gram- many! how the critter did stuff! I took partickler notice of her, and I see she had an awful great workbag on her arm, and every little while she'd contrive to tuck a piece into 't when she thought nobody wa'n't a lookin! . . . When supper was about finished, Jane Elizy Fustick (she's always a tryin to dew something cunnin'), she went into the store-room and got a chain o' sassages, that old Miss Crocker brought, and come along slily and throw'd it round Liph Peabody's shoulders. Liph, he was a standin' by the tea-board a drink- in' a cup of coffee. When he felt the sassages come floppin'round his neck, he 37 M. Whitcher to sister, November 8,1847.