Born: Ja­nu­ary 8, 1861, St. Ma­ry­le­bone, Lon­don, Eng­land.

Died: Feb­ru­ary 1, 1918, St. Ma­ry­le­bone, Lon­don, Eng­land.

Buried: Hamp­stead Ce­me­te­ry, For­tune Green, Lon­don, En­gland.



Ada was the daugh­ter of Dr. Sa-mu-el Os­borne Hab­er­shon and Grace Hab­er­shon.

In 1901, she be­gan writ­ing po­et­ry while ill and wrote Apart with Him.

She met Dwight Moo­dy and Ira San­key when they vis­it­ed Lon­don in 1884, and vis­it­ed Am­er­ica at their in­vi­ta­tion to de­liv­er lec­tures on the Old Tes­ta­ment, which were lat­er pub­lished.

During the 1905 Tor­rey-Al­ex­an­der Mis­sion, Charles Al­ex­ander asked her to write some Gos­pel songs. With­in a year, she sup­plied him with 200.



As He Journeyed

It was the longest journey
That traveler ever went,
When earthward from the glory
The Savior’s steps were bent,
Before the world’s foundation
The highest place He took,
Because that world had fallen
The glory He forsook.

Midst all Heav’n’s radiant beings,
Not one had stood so high;
Not one on earth so lowly,
As when He stooped to die.
He left the golden summit,
To tread the steep descent,
He fathomed deepest darkness
When to the grave He went.

He passed the shining angels,
He passed earth’s princes by,
Was numbered with transgressors,
And chose with them to die.
The throne and all its glory,
He counted not the loss;
For joy that did await Him,
He thus endured the cross.

He left the heav’nly riches
Which all to Him belonged,
Was poorest mid the strangers,
Who to the city thronged.
He left the many mansions—
A king without a home,
He had not e’en a pillow,
Was laid in borrowed tomb.

The downward journey ended,
The grave is reached at last;
The road can lead no lower,
When once those gates are passed.
His mission is accomplished,
For which He came to die,
And from the depths of Hades,
He now returns on high.

Because He stooped so lowly,
And death obedient bore,
His God doth high exalt Him,
The first for evermore.
Alone He left the brightness,
The darkening path to tread,
But in His glad ascension,
The members join their Head.

From highest point of Hea­ven,
To lowest depth of earth,
That costly journey tells us,
What His redeemed were worth.
O wondrous, wondrous journey,
He took for you and me!
That where He is in glory,
There might His loved ones be.

Lord Jesus, mightiest Traveler,
We marvel at Thy grace,
That Thou didst leave Heav’n’s highest,
To take earth’s lowest place;
That Thou didst come where we were,
And bear our deepest need,
That we might sit where Thou art,
Yea, this was love indeed!

Ada Ruth Habershon
I Am a Prayer, 1918