<TITLE>21. Par 73-75</TITLE>L-73 That--seen that girl shun her mother, and walked away like that with this little prissy thing. And the first thing you know, when a conductor, there, happened to know the reason, he jumped up on a little old box there, and said, "Looky here, people, you see how you're watching that poor woman there, weeping her eyes out," when he seen her own daughter turn away from her. Said, "Looky here, young woman," said, "That's your mother. I don't care what she looks like; that's your mother."
Said, "I happened to be living, door neighbors when this happened. Said, "Many years ago, people, this little girl that's standing here, turning her back on her poor old scarred up looking mammy there." Said, "I lived door neighbors to her, when her mammy was down at the spring, getting some water, doing her washing in the back of the house, when a spark caught into the house, and the house caught afire.

L-74 When the mother come back with the two buckets of water... Said, "She was a beautiful woman, pretty as she could be." And said, "She looked in there, and the house was on fire. The neighbors was running. And it done broke through." And said, "Her baby was upstairs. That was that child, laying up there in her cradle." Said, "The mother grabbed up blanket up the line, like that, and wrapped herself up in it, her face, to run through the fire to find her child."
And said, "The fireman, and everybody, screaming, 'Come back, come back,' but nothing would stop her. She was going on. She had to catch her child. It would die if not. And when she got into where the baby was screaming, she took the blanket from off of her own beautiful face and wrapped the baby in it." Said, "Her face...?... and is braised through them blazes, till it scorched and burned her hair off. It burned her face to a crisp." And said, "Young woman, because that you're pretty today, and your mother's ugly," said, "is because that she was made ugly so you could be pretty. And now you're ashamed of her."

L-75 That's the same thing I think tonight. You can preach all your creeds and dogmas that you want to, but my Lord Jesus came down from heaven in the form of sinful flesh, and humiliated Himself, and come to the world with skin on, and made fun of, and mistreated, and wounded, and bruised, and hung yonder on Calvary, as a malefactor. Robbing Himself, and coming down to become my Saviour, because He died, I live.
I'm don't never want to place myself out there, too much of a weakling to tell the truth about it and to preach the Gospel, regardless, if I lose every friend I got on earth. I want friendship with Him in glory. At that day, He will look down and say, "It's been well done my good and faithful servant." Amen. I love Him with my heart. And I know I... You can go along with shaking hands and joining and a saying creeds, and repeating of all these different prayers and so forth. But here's my theme,
 Ever since by faith I saw the stream
 Thy flowing wounds supplied,
 Redeeming love has been my theme,
 And shall be till I die.
 A dying thief rejoiced to see
 That fountain in his day,
 There my I, though vile as he
 Wash all my sins away.
 Then in a nobler, sweeter song
 I'll sing thy power to save,
 When this poor lisping, stammering tongue
 Lies silent in the grave.


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