"The greater the faith, the greater the
result."
Fools
Crow Lakota
The
door opened and he stood there, fresh-skinned and glowing. There was something
about his eyes. He was inexplicably different. What had happened?
I
pushed a drink across the table. He refused it. Disappointed but curious, I
wondered what had got into the fellow? He wasn’t himself.
“Come,
what’s this all about?” I queried.
He
looked straight at me. Simply, but smilingly, He said, “I’ve got religion.” I
was aghast. So that was it--last summer an alcoholic crackpot; now, I
suspected, a little cracked about religion. He had that starry-eyed look. Yes,
the old boy was on fire all right. But bless his heart, let him rant! Besides, my
gin would last longer than his preaching.
But
he did no ranting. In a matter of fact way he told how two men had appeared in
court, persuading the judge to suspend his commitment. They told of a simple
religious idea and a practical program of action. That was two months ago and
the result was self-evident. It worked!
He
had come to pass his experience along to me--if I cared to have it. I was
shocked, but interested. Certainly I was interested. I had to be, for I was
hopeless.
He talked for hours. Childhood memories rose
before me. I could almost hear the sound of the preacher's voice as I sat, on
still Sundays, way over there on the hillside; there was the proffered
temperance pledge I never signed; my grandfather's good natured contempt of
some church folk and their doings; his insistence that the spheres really had
their music; but his denial of the preacher's right to tell him how he must
listen; his fearlessness as he spoke of these things just before he died; these
recollections welled up from the past. They made me swallow hard.
Big
Book pgs. 9 & 10
Creator
show us how to believe.