<TITLE>14. Par 50-53</TITLE>L-50 I raised up the rake; on went the opossum rolling; and it went right up to my door; and there she fell, and exhausted. I said, "She's dead." And I went up there, and I punched her with the rake. But I seen she wasn't dead. She could still--little grins on the side. And I looked at that leg, laying all spraddled out, and those little babies nursing on that poor dying mother.
And then Mr. and Mrs. Wood come up. And Mrs. Wood, which is a dear, sweet, Christian woman, but in her terms of knowing, being kind of a veterinarian; she said, "Brother Branham, kill the opossum and get it out of its misery." And said, "The little ones has a round mouth. They cannot take a bottle, and they're too young anyhow. They're just a few hours old. So you'll have to take the little ones and kill them."
Oh, I thought, "I can't do that." I said, "I just can't."
Oh, she said, "Brother Branham, you're not going to let that poor thing lay there like that, and them little opossums nurse that milk from that dead mother. They'll die a horrible death."

L-51 Now, the woman was right. But something in me wouldn't let it happen. She said, "Why, you're a hunter. Go get your gun and shoot her."
I said, "I'm a hunter, but I'm not a killer." I said, "But I can't do it."
She said, "Let Banks..." That's her beloved husband, my buddy. Said, "Let him kill her."
I said, "I can't."
Said, "Do you mean you're going to let that poor animal lay in that hot sun, and those little ones scorch with their little naked bodies that gets the direct rays of this sun today, and her laying there groaning, sniffing, dying?"

L-52 It looked like the humane thing to do, but I just couldn't do it. I talked to Leo and Gene. Later on they left. All through the day she laid there. I went... The little opossums still trying to nurse...
That night Mr. Wood come up and he said, "Now, Brother Branham, you've been busy all day. You've just got to leave everything alone. Come, I'm going to take you a little ride." We got the wife and we went out riding. And I found a little old dog laying on the side of the road, manged, eaten, flea-bitten. And I picked him up till the fleas was running over my hands. And my wife said, "Billy, you're not going to take that."
I said, "But honey, he's just a little fellow. Somebody's dropped him off, because he's mangy." I said, "He has a right to live." And I took him home, washed him up, and dosed him up, prayed for him. He's a fine big collie dog.

L-53 When I went back in about eleven o'clock, there laid the old opossum, sprawled out. Brother Wood said, "Well, now she's gone." And the little ones still nursing... I said, "Well, maybe she is."
Said, "Why don't you kill her, Billy?"
I said, "I just can't."
So my boy come in around midnight from the river, fishing, and there laid the old opossum, still laying there. All night I thought of that opossum. I just couldn't get it off my mind. And the next morning early, I got up, went outside. And when I went outside, there laid the old opossum. Mr. Wood said to me that night, "You know, Brother Branham, if that opossum ever was going to move, it would move when the sun went down." Said, "You've trapped and hunted enough to know it."
I said, "That's right."


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