<TITLE>02. Par 7-10</TITLE>L-7 I remember the last meeting I had at the Apache Reservation. What a marvelous time we had. My heart bleeds for the people. I say this with all love and respect. I don't think there's but one or two Indians sitting in here, as I see. Perhaps they don't understand one word of English. But I believe, if there ever was one time that we--or one thing that's done, that put the disgrace on our flag, would be the treatment the Indian gets. That's right. After all, this is his land. God gave him this. We're the ones that's aliens, not them. Come in by force and took it away from them. The only reason we done it was because they was unorganized.
That's what the devil's doing to the Church, because they're not unity and one together. That's the reason he breaks us apart the way he does.

L-8 My heart goes out to the Indian. I remember, very well, the nights at the Apache Reservation, some six, seven years ago when the Almighty God moved in. And the Indians was wet, plumb around their waists, packing their loved ones across the river, coming daylight in the morning. Being healed... They didn't ask to be prayed for; they just wanted to cross the platform.

L-9 I remember an Indian woman, old, coming to the platform. A little Indian boy tried to get around her. We couldn't make him understand he had to keep his place. And Brother Moore just picked him up and set him back in his place. The old Indian woman when she come, with two broom sticks for crutches, pads under the arms. She moved up to me and looked up, deep wrinkles in her face, tears streaking from her eyes, making it way down through the crevices of her face, leaned over--bent over with arthritis on her crutches. Thought, "Poor old thing, that's somebody's mother." I just looked at her as she come up, slowly trying to get to me. And when she got right up close to me, she looked up at me and her lips quivered. She just took those crutches and handed it to me, straightened up and went walking on off the platform, never ask...?...

L-10 I remember real early in the morning, almost daylight. I was still standing, praying. I seen a big fellow standing there, fine, big, warrior type Indian. He was shivering. His lips was blue, wet plumb to his waist. I said, "Can you speak English?"
He said, "A leetle."
I said, "Aren't you afraid you'll take pneumonia?"
"No." Said, "Jesus Christ is take care of me. I brought my dad." He had a board and an old man laying on it, shaking with palsy.
I said, "Do you believe if I'll ask God, that God will heal your dad?"
"Yep."
I said, "Pass him by." Just laid hands on him, went on, called for the next one. In a few moments, happened to look, going out through the crowd, the old Indian brother had the board laying on his own shoulder, waving at everybody, going on, like that. He was healed.


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