Elizabeth Fry: Laborer for the needy

Because of Christ and what he did for her, Elizabeth Fry reached out to others in need.
As we have opportunity, let us do good to all people, especially to those who belong to the family of believers” (Galatians 6:10).

Paul’s appeal found a deeply sympathetic response in the life of the Englishwoman, Elizabeth Fry. She let no obstacle hinder her charitable endeavors. She reigned as queen in the halls of mercy.

Born in 1780, Elizabeth enjoyed a carefree youth. All of this changed on her hearing the sermon of a visiting Quaker evangelist. She renounced personal pleasures, adopted the simple garb of Quakers, ministered to the poor and sick, and maintained a friendly and loving disposition despite the ridicule heaped on her for her change of behavior.

Serving others

Displeased by his daughter’s turnaround, Elizabeth’s father sent her to London to become involved in the city’s social activities. Nevertheless, now 19 years old, she adopted Quaker mannerisms in earnest; dressed in drab clothing; and addressed all people, whether rulers or beggars, with the formal “thou” that Quakers regarded as a sign of servile deference instead of the polite “you.”

A year later Elizabeth was married to a London merchant, Joseph Fry, with whom she enjoyed a happy marriage blessed by 11 children.

In her new role of homemaker, Elizabeth established a family altar and supplemented her works of love among the local poor and sick with Christian instruction to their children. Her acts of mercy still radiated in all directions. She furnished lonesome shepherds in the Scottish highlands and lonely lighthouse keepers along the British coasts with reading materials and agitated for the emancipation of slaves. She battled in behalf of the persecuted everywhere, labored at rehabilitating drunkards and prostitutes, and was instrumental in freeing servants from forced work on Sunday.

Helping prisoners

When Elizabeth was 35 years old, she became involved with the Newgate Prison for women in London. It was located in a windowless cellar. Here both young and old, both sick and healthy were crowded together without reference to the nature of their offenses or their punishment. They were given no work, no books, and no blankets. They slept on the bare ground where they did their cooking, washing, and sleeping. The days were idled away at playing cards and drinking brandy. Crowds of unruly children ran wild in the open spaces, because mothers were granted permission to bring their children with them into prison.