My father died when I was fifteen years old

My father died when I was fifteen years old. A long illness had swallowed up most of our savings, and at that time there was no social security to cushion such an emergency. Since a family quarrel had alienated our relatives, there seemed nowhere to turn. The outlook was bleak.

My mother, to whom I was devoted, was unable to cope, so I left school and assumed responsibility for us both. I did love God, but in my ignorance I felt that only a strong will and dogged persistence would enable us to survive. The minor job I was equipped to fill brought in little money. To acquire training, in the evening after work I cycled a round trip of ten miles to a municipal college. There was little opportunity for social contacts; indeed, life hardly seemed worth living.

Testimony of Healing
As a child, I lived in a very small community
September 10, 1979

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