<TITLE>09. Par 19-21</TITLE>L-19 And I remember the night, my wife came down. We was two city blocks away. The police was out there, just the streets was standing full. Not the--not the auditorium, and the yards, and the fields, and the streets--everywhere, just standing, blocked with people, see if they could hear something going on. And when I got down there, four ushers was standing to get me down through the crowd. I never did know what become of my wife from there, how she got through there, how she got back. And we got to the place. And just as I got up to the--to the place where the auditorium was, well, I come in on the platform.
And just as I come to the platform, I looked. A place had been roped off like that with nothing but just ambulance stretchers. Two nurses was standing here and a little girl dying with TB, about fifteen years old. She kept looking up at me. I knew that she was going get healed. I could tell the way, just the same as I knew that lady was going to be healed just then. Now, I knew she was going to be healed. And I kept watching her.
Just a few moments, I kept seeing somebody motioning like that, with a blue suit on, standing back that way. And it looked like a cab driver. I said, "Are you calling me, sir?"
He said, "Yes, sir." He said, "Brother Branham..." They had about fifteen ambulances backed up out there, the ambulance row. He said, "I have come down..."

L-20 There'd been a man healed that day from Kennett--Clement, Missouri, I believe it was--up that boot-heel part of Missouri. The man had been totally blind for ten years, drawing a blind pension. And that night he was healed there at the--the meeting, and went back. Why, the next morning he got in home about daylight. He had his blind cane, his hat on the cane like that. He comes walking down through Methodist church a screaming and praising God (They throwed him out.), carrying on. He went over, run up into the Catholic church and turned him out. Why, he was about, set the city wild, everything.
And they took him out there and had him on the radio. He come through that little station down there, over from Jonesboro, I think, and... Oh, Bly--Blytheville, Blytheville station. You, I guess you, back there from Arkansas, know where that's at, the Blytheville station. That's where they were--his--his broadcasting, had him on the radio that morning. He was a shoe cobbler there, years and years before that. And there he was, perfectly normal and well. And he could see. He stood right there in church and read the Bible and everything: had been totally blind; drawing a blind pension for ten years. And so they was just having an awful time.

L-21 He... This man said, "I have brought patients down here. And I got a woman out here that's dying out here now, if she isn't already dead." And said, "I can't get the doctor no where," and says, "I--I don't know what to do." Said, "Can't you come to her?"
I said, "Brother, looky, there's probably a thousand people walled to that wall there? How could I get in there?"
And some men stepped out, said, "We'll take you if you want to go."
Brother Reed stepped up to the platform, said, "Go ahead." And out through there--and the pitiful part, them dear people... I ain't saying this because there's some Arkansas people setting here. See? But I tell you, they may not have too much of this world's goods, but they sure got faith that can make some of these big cities--cities feeled ashamed of themselves. That's right.
They come down there. I seen young girls pack their shoes and stockings in their--in their hands, and be coming. They wouldn't know I was in woods there praying. And see them walk along the side of the road, barefooted, and--and then put their--dust off their feet and put their shoes and socks: young ladies, sixteen, seventeen years old, and go right on to the church like that. Come in old cotton wagons and things like that, trying to get...


<A HREF="P10">Next Page</A>