<TITLE>11. Par 34-36</TITLE>L-34 So after Mary hearing the good news about Elisabeth, oh, she wanted to share the news. You know there's something about this, that when you really take God at His promise and see Him fulfill it, you want to tell somebody else about it. You just can't set still; you got to do something about it.
So she took off, that little woman, by herself, up along the river and over up the hills into Judaea, into the mountain country.
Now, Elisabeth, as soon as she found out that she was going to be a mother, she'd hid herself, went back into the room. And I'd imagine. Let's just think she's setting back there making little booties and getting all of her little work ready for this little fellow was to come. And she's making the little blanket that she's going to have him dedicated in, and all these things, getting things ready, because she was going to be mother.

L-35 But the thing was worrying her; it was six months with her as a mother and the baby had not yet moved. Now, anyone knows that that's subnormal. Way out a way, about two or three months or more, maybe four at the most, there's life, but there's no life yet. But she was setting back in a little room. And let's just look now, and get us a little seat along the side of the road and watch.
Here comes the little virgin up the road, her little eyes a sparkling, her cheeks just as rosy as they could be; not with Max Factors, no, no; but lit up with the power of God and the joy of God. Just as hard as she could run, her little eyes a glistening, you know. And she... I see Elisabeth raise back the curtain and look out, and she sees a young lady coming up the Judaean hills. And as it got closer, she recognized it to be her cousin Mary.
So she wraps a little shawl around her, and out she goes to meet her. Oh, she must've throwed her arms around her, and hugged her, and kissed her. You know, people used to be, they cared for one another, you know. But now days they don't. They don't care for each other, people's so cold, so far away from one another. It used to be when one of the neighbors would get sick, we'd all go in, set down, help them, and cut their wood, cut their corn, or help them plow, or whatever was going on, and help them. But today, you don't even know your neighbor's dead, 'less you read it in the paper. It's so cold, so indifferent.

L-36 Honey, I don't mean this to be bad, to my wife setting there, but the other day, some time ago it's been, we were downtown together. And it just seems to be a trend. And there was a--a lady on the street, and she said, "How do you do, Sister Branham?"
And I never heard her say a word. And I said, "Honey, that lady spoke to you."
She said, "I spoke to her."
And I said, "I didn't hear you."
She said, "I smiled."
"Oh," I said, "Honey, a little old silly grin don't take the place of a good 'How do you do.'" I--I--I like that to be friendly, but a little old silly grin... I like for somebody to speak, not to give a little grin like a opossum. I--I like for it to be a real "How do you do." I like a good old pump handle handshake.


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