"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.
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