<TITLE>21. Par 71-72</TITLE>L-71 And she run out the house, got her little shawl and put around her. She run out, and she met Mary and threw her arms around her and begin to hug her.
You know, I wish people loved one another again like that, don't you? Oh, my, they're cold, aren't they? Just as cold as a the wart on a pickle... I never seen anything in my life like it. Oh, it's terrible. Nobody has any more friendship.
Brother Arganbright, you remember long years ago, when we used to have the farm, and something went wrong with the neighbor over there? He got sick; and we'd go over and cut his wood, and get the corn in, and plow the corn, or whatever it was. We helped take care of one another. Now, you don't know your neighbor's dead till you read it in the paper or somewhere. That's right. We don't have no more love one for another.

L-72 And we come out, right here not long ago. People don't even act right to one another. I was going downtown... (She'll get me for this, my wife.) So I was going downtown; this lady said, "Hello, Sister Branham."
I looked over to her, and I said, "Meda." I said, "That lady spoke to you."
She said, "I spoke."
I said, "How did she hear it when I couldn't hear it setting near you? And I know my ears is good; my hearing's all right." I said, "How--how'd she hear you?"
She said, "I--I--I smiled."
I said, "Oh, my..." A little, old silly greeting...
Now, that ain't speaking. No, sir, I like a good, old fashioned, pump handled handshake like that. I--I like to feeled it.


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