<TITLE>16. Par 68-71</TITLE>L-68 I looked all over her--her left shoulder here, and it was all either chewed by dogs, or had been run over by a car. And excuse this flat words, but fly-blows was all over it and maggots working underneath here, you know, where the fly blows had come to it, and green flies all over it. It was a horrible looking sight. And it was pulling that leg.
And I said, "Oh, she's hurt. She's probably taken rabies after this, and that's what's done it." And so she was biting at the--the rake. And just as soon as I let her up, she started again. And I threw the rake over her again. And I happened to notice. And her...

L-69 A opossum and a kangaroo is the two only animals in the world that's got a pocket that they carry young ones in. And so, her pocket had let down, and she had nine little, bitty slick babies just about like that, little bitty fellows.
And I said, "Oh, that's why she's fighting. Look at her." And I said, "Now, Gene, Leo, and you standing around," I said, "this mother opossum has really more lady about her than that colored girl that tried to drown her baby or did drowned it." And I said, "You see, that colored woman with a fine, healthy baby smothered it in a blanket and dropped it in the river because she didn't want it. She wanted to run around and carry on. And this old mother opossum's probably got around twenty minutes to a half hour more to live, and she'll spend that fighting for her babies. She's a real mother."

L-70 And all of them begin to say, "Yes, that's right." And I let her up. And when I let her up, she... Them little opossum's was gathered, and away she went as hard as she could dragging that leg, and went right up to my steps, and fell down and exhausted there, passed out. I went up. We pushed her. That right? We pushed her and tried to get her to move, and she just wouldn't. She just laid there.
Well, Mrs. Wood come up. She said, "Brother Branham..." And her pocket... 'Course when she lay down, let out; the little babies was there a nursing. And said, "Brother Branham," Mrs. Wood said, being a veterinary, she said, "now look, go kill that opossum. See? Them little opossums, just pick them up and throw them against the ground and kill them," said, "'cause the poor little things," said, "that old curdled milk and stuff, her dead," said, "they'll--they'll--it'll... She'll die, or the little fellows will die, and die an awful death." Said, "They're too little to put on a bottle. They got a round mouth anyhow. Said, "You can't do it." Said, "You just might as well kill them."
I said, "I--I just can't do it, Sister Wood."
She said, "You're a hunter, aren't you?"
I said, "Yeah, but I'm not a killer."

L-71 And--and she said--she said, "Well--well, look, Brother Branham, why don't you go in and get one of your guns and shoot them?"
I said, "I just can't do it."
She said, "Well, let Banks." That's her husband. "Let--let him kill them."
And I said, "No, I don't want him to."
Said, "You mean you're going to let that poor thing lay there in that sun, them poor little things nurse on that dead mother?"
I said, "She's not all the way dead." I'd kick her, and every once in a while you'd see a little, kind of a little move in her jaw there.
Why, said, "Look at the poor thing. She's dying. She's passed out. She'll never come to."
Well, I said, "I just can't help it. I just can't kill her."


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