Hamilton was settled by the 4th Waikato Regiment Militia in 1864. Captain William Steele led them. They arrived on the Rangiriri, a small steamboat, on 24 August. As the boat came up the river, the local people stood on the banks, watching quietly. Among the passengers was Teresa Vowless. She held her baby in her arms but passed the child to another woman as they neared the shore. Without a word, she leapt into the river. Teresa wanted to be the first settler to set foot on this new land. Some said it was her faith in God that drove her. She believed she had been led there for a reason.
The land, however, was far from what the settlers expected. Much of it was swamp. They had been promised fertile ground, but many struggled to farm. By 1868, most of the settlers had given up and left. Hamilton’s population dropped from 1,000 to 300. Those who stayed had to rely on faith that somehow, their future would improve. In 1875, hope came in the form of a brickworks that opened in town, offering jobs and a sense that Hamilton could grow. But for many, faith was the only thing keeping them going.
In 1882, Eliza Beckett came to Hamilton. She was a widow with three children, and her life had been hard. After her husband died in an accident, she had little to her name. A distant cousin had told her about Hamilton. “Go there,” they said. “They need workers, and you’ll find a fresh start.” Eliza believed it was God who had guided her path. She had been praying for a way forward.
At first, she found work at the new brickworks, hauling clay. It was back-breaking labor, but she was thankful for the work. “God provides,” she often said, though the men around her didn’t understand why a woman would speak of faith while working in such rough conditions. Eliza saved her wages, trusting that one day, she would leave Hamilton for a better life.
One day, while working, Eliza overheard a conversation between two men. One was Thomas White, a local landowner, and the other was a man she didn’t recognize. He was quiet and spoke with conviction. They were standing by the kiln, talking in low voices. “The land’s no good,” Thomas muttered. “I don’t care what the others say—it’s cursed.”
Eliza listened, intrigued. The quiet man responded calmly. “It’s not the land, Thomas. It’s what lies beneath it. There’s something here—something God has hidden for a reason.”
Eliza pondered his words. That evening, as she prayed with her children before bed, she thought about what she had overheard. She believed that if God had hidden something, it would only be revealed when the time was right.
Days passed, and soon there was talk of a strange discovery. A local worker had uncovered something unusual while digging near the swamp. Eliza couldn’t get the details, but people whispered about it in town. Some said it was an ancient relic. Others spoke of bones. No one seemed to know for sure.
Eliza’s curiosity grew. She believed this might be connected to the conversation she had overheard. One afternoon, as she left the brickworks, she saw Thomas White again. He was standing with a group of men outside the general store. “We should’ve left it alone,” he was saying. “We’ve disturbed something that was meant to stay buried.”
Eliza approached. “What did you find, Mr. White?”
He looked at her, hesitant. “Best not ask, Mrs. Beckett. It’s not for us to know.”
Eliza didn’t push, but later that night, she prayed. She asked for guidance, for God to show her what this discovery meant. The next day, she walked out to the edge of town, to the place where the land was boggy and still. She found the spot where the men had been digging. The ground was freshly disturbed, and Eliza, believing this was God’s way of answering her prayers, began to search.
She found something half-buried in the mud. It was small, heavy, and wrapped in cloth. As she unwrapped it, a strange feeling came over her. She wasn’t sure what it was, but it felt important—holy, even. She believed it was a sign.
A week later, two men came to her door. One was Thomas White. The other was the quiet man from before, his eyes filled with a certain intensity.
“Mrs. Beckett,” Thomas said, “we need to talk.”
Eliza stepped outside, her Bible clutched in one hand. “What about?”
Thomas sighed. “You took something from the ground. We need it back.”
Eliza’s heart raced. “I don’t know what you mean.”
The quiet man stepped forward. “There are two ways to look at this,” he said calmly. “Some believe it’s a blessing, something sacred. Others say it’s dangerous, meant to stay hidden. Which do you believe?”
Eliza stood firm. “I believe God has a plan. If He wanted it hidden, He wouldn’t have let me find it.”
The man nodded. “Perhaps. But not all things revealed are meant for us.”
Eliza prayed that night, holding the strange object close. She asked for wisdom, for a sign that she was doing the right thing. The next day, she returned to the place where she had found the object. There, she felt a stirring in her spirit, something telling her to let go. She knew it was time to return what she had taken.
She found Thomas White in town the following morning. “You were right,” she told him. “It wasn’t meant for me.”
In the end, Eliza understood that what she had found wasn’t a treasure or a curse. It was a test of faith. She had believed God had given it to her, but in truth, He was asking her to trust Him enough to let it go. She had always been faithful, but now, she saw that true faith wasn’t about holding on—it was about surrender.
Hamilton went on, with its struggles and its growth. And Eliza Beckett remained a woman of faith, known for her quiet strength and wisdom. In the end, the object was never spoken of again, but those who knew the story understood its lesson. It was not what was found in the ground that mattered, but what was found in the heart.
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