always think of father and his godly influence upon my life. As I look
across the years, I see myself an ignorant awkward country boy; but
there is one thing for which I shall always thank my God, and that is
that I was blessed with a Christian father. Throughout the years his
saintly life has been a benediction to me. The most sacred picture that
hangs on the wall of my memory is that of my father with the big family
Bible on his lap and all the children gathered around him and Mother for
the worship of his God. Well do I remember when he used to pray for us,
naming us out one by one and asking God to make us useful men and women.
And oh, how he used to be persecuted by the Mount Olivet people. Well do
I remember how one morning when Father was on his way to milk your
father's cows he was met by Deacon Gramps, who beat him so shamefully.
That night in family worship Father prayed so fervently and asked God to
forgive Gramps and save him from his wicked ways. The impressions I