Used to the glitz and glamour of the social scene in late 19th century New York City, Emma Whittemore had it all. With her husband Sidney, she enjoyed all that wealth had to offer.
One day, a friend persuaded her to attend a meeting to hear an evangelist at the local YMCA. Unbeknownst to her, a separate friend had persuaded her husband to attend the same meeting. Both were deeply convicted by the message, and both went forward to, in her words, make “firm resolutions to live a different life.” They then returned home to pray and determine what that commitment meant.
Emma’s friend called on her again to see if she would be willing to accompany her to hear a man named Jerry McAuley. Jerry, an ex-con and reformed alcoholic, had opened the nation’s first mission to the homeless, Water Street Mission. They first resisted, but then agreed to go, “just this once.” Emma spoke often of that first evening at the mission. They heard cursing, saw fighting in the open, and saw clawing women dragged away to the police station. The sights, sounds, and smells were something her refined self had never experienced.
Walking into the meeting, Emma and Sidney whispered condescending words to each other about the people they were gathered with. Their haughty attitude changed, however, when Jerry finished preaching and opened the floor for testimonies. One after another, slum tenants stood up and praised God for deliverance from addiction, strength amidst temptation, and daily deliverance from sin.
Astonished, both Emma and Sidney’s hearts sank in shame at the thought of their own pride. They noticed a genuineness among the people – truly transformed lives – and not the veneer they knew they possessed. Emma later wrote of her life prior to this meeting as a “useless life.” Sidney stood weeping, covering his face with his hands in shame, and asked for prayer. Jerry called him up to the front, and Emma followed. Spontaneously, a group surrounded them, as Emma later wrote, “a drunkard, a thief, and a tramp on my husband’s side, and on my side one or two poor women…” and the drunkard led them in prayer for the couple.
Emma wrote of that night, “From that night I date the giving up of a worldly life.” Their “just this once” trip to the mission turned into the first of many visits. Jerry’s wife Maria mentored Emma, showing her how to minister to poor women and how to give her testimony. Emma’s heart broke for the horrors she saw among the street women but she continually prayed, asking God for strength to continue. He provided it.
Emma opened her first home for fallen girls on October 25th, 1890. She gave it the name “Door of Hope.” Emma felt God was leading her to trust in Him alone for provision, so she never held a fund-raiser and never voiced a need. Day by day, sometimes hour by hour, God provided. Funds came in, just in time, time after time to meet the needs of Door of Hope.
Within four years, Door of Hope had helped 325 girls. Emma’s primary concern was always that they would know the power of Christ in their lives. As she put it, she could take them out of the dens of vice, “but only Jesus can get the vice out of the girls.” Her second goal was to turn these women into evangelists, active in their efforts to share with others.
Door of Hope went international. When Emma died in 1931, there were at least 97 homes around the world, in the US, Canada, Great Britain, Germany, Africa, Japan, and China. The great evangelist Wilbur Chapman said of her, “She has probably been instrumental in saving more fallen women than any other one person.”
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