<TITLE>20. Par 70-73</TITLE>L-70 She stepped out there again. He looked at me again like that. I nodded my head like that. He... I reached down. I heard that shell go up in that .30-06, big hundred and eighty grain mushroom bullet, level down at that telescope. I knew in a few moments when he touched that trigger (He was a dead shot.), I knowed he'd blow her loyal heart plumb through her.
And, "How could he do that?" I thought. "A cruel-hearted a man as that would take that mother there, trying to find her baby, out there looking for her baby; and would blow her loyal heart right out of her." I thought, "What a cruel fellow that must be. Surely he won't do it."
And when the--the bolt went down on the model 70, went down like that, the deer heard it, and she turned. And she saw the hunter. But did she move? No, sir. Why? She was a mother. Death or no death, her baby was in trouble. She was trying to find that baby. She was looking everywhere. The baby was calling. She couldn't help that. She was a mother.

L-71 I--I was almost crying. I just turned my head. I thought, "God, I can't see that. How can he do that, blow the heart of that poor old mother out there, and her standing looking for her baby? A genuine display of loyalty, and how can he do it?" He leveled down like that, that steady nerve. I turned my back. And I said, "Heavenly Father," down in my heart, "don't let him do it. Don't let him do it. How can he do it? How can he shoot the heart of that mother out like that, and her trying to find her baby like that?"
And I waited, and the gun never fired. I waited a little longer; the gun never fired. And I turned around to look. And here's the way the gun barrel was going, just shaking. And he looked up, and the tears running down his cheeks, his lips a quivering. He took the gun and throwed it down on the snow bank, and grabbed me around the trouser leg, and said, "Billy, I've had enough. Lead me to that Jesus you're talking about."
He's a deacon in a Baptist church now. Right there on that snowdrift, I led him to Christ. Why?
He saw something real. He saw something that wasn't put on. He saw there was something genuine. He knowed there was something behind it. She was a mother. She was a born mother.

L-72 God, make me a Christian like that. Make me to be a Christian, so that I can be so real that people who are looking for something real can see something real, and know that Christ is real. Let us bow our heads.
How many in here... Be honest. Just a minute, will you? Be honest. How many of you would like to be the kind of--as much a Christian, as that deer was a mother? Raise up your hand, say, "It's me, Brother Branham. I--I want to be that kind of Christian." God bless you.

L-73 Heavenly Father, how little did I know, standing there in that snow that day, my feet wet, that man holding me around the legs a snubbing and crying... Well, I guess the deer's still there with her baby. I hope so. Little did she know what she was doing.
But God is able of these stones to speak out. That cruel-hearted man saw something real. He'd seen so much make-belief and put on. To being a hunter hisself, God had to deal with him in that way, to see that there was something that was real. And if he's living yet today, he's a lovely Christian, borned again. How we thank you for that, Father.
I seen some three or four or five hundred hands, maybe close to maybe more than that, go up a few moments ago, that they--they wanted to be a real Christian, Lord. I've had to scold this week, God; cry over it, wondering just what my brethren are thinking, wondering what You're thinking. I've tried to be honest, Lord. The people set and wondered. May it all be over now, Lord. May it just all be broke up and settled. May we come to the God that we know that's real. We each one can have that experience of being a real born Christian, just as much as that deer was a mother. Grant it, Lord. Hear us, I pray.


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