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Around the World in 88 Years -E Book - Arthur Burt

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I sat down, and with Fa<strong>the</strong>r dictat<strong>in</strong>g, wrote a letter: “Dear Sir,Will you please tell me <strong>the</strong> times that <strong>the</strong> Roman Catholic priestJeffries visits his patients?”We soon got an answer: “Dear Sir, There is no Roman Catholicpriest visit<strong>in</strong>g patients <strong>in</strong> this town. Pastor Stephen Jeffries is God’shumble servant who God is us<strong>in</strong>g to preach <strong>the</strong> Gospel and toheal <strong>the</strong> sick. Come. Believe and be blessed.”So we journeyed on <strong>the</strong> electric tra<strong>in</strong> up to Newcastle and took abus out to Bishop Auckland. My fa<strong>the</strong>r’s whole aim was to gethis sight back. He wasn’t <strong>in</strong>terested <strong>in</strong> God or salvation or anyth<strong>in</strong>gelse.To our amazement, when we arrived, <strong>the</strong>re were hundreds andhundreds of people wait<strong>in</strong>g outside <strong>the</strong> town hall. Ambulancesdrove up, transport<strong>in</strong>g people who were carried <strong>in</strong> on stretchers.We jo<strong>in</strong>ed <strong>the</strong> crowd, and we stood for hours.I stared <strong>in</strong> wonder at <strong>the</strong> radiance on <strong>the</strong> faces of <strong>the</strong> people as<strong>the</strong>y sang choruses, such as “Everybody ought to love Jesus.” Itwas all foreign to me. Never <strong>in</strong> my life had I seen such ecstasy aswas on <strong>the</strong> faces of <strong>the</strong>se people. There were hundreds wait<strong>in</strong>goutside, for <strong>the</strong> hundreds <strong>in</strong>side to come out, so <strong>the</strong>y might get<strong>in</strong>. It was revival!F<strong>in</strong>ally, at 3:00 PM, <strong>the</strong> doors opened and <strong>the</strong> people came out.Immediately, <strong>the</strong> crowd for <strong>the</strong> next meet<strong>in</strong>g moved forward.We shuffled up, and shuffled up, and shuffled up. Just before wegot to <strong>the</strong> steps of <strong>the</strong> entrance, an usher put up his hand andannounced, “I am sorry. There is no more room. The town hall isfull.” We returned home with Fa<strong>the</strong>r miserably disgruntled.A few weeks later we heard that <strong>the</strong> same m<strong>in</strong>ister was at VictoriaHall <strong>in</strong> Sunderland and Fa<strong>the</strong>r was determ<strong>in</strong>ed to go. He was nomore <strong>in</strong>terested <strong>in</strong> gett<strong>in</strong>g saved than somebody’s cat out <strong>in</strong> <strong>the</strong>road — not at all. All he wanted was to rega<strong>in</strong> his sight. So off wewent to Sunderland.Aga<strong>in</strong>, we stood for hours, and aga<strong>in</strong>, ushers were announc<strong>in</strong>g,“Sorry, no more room.” Ambulances maneuvered back and forth,crowds sat on <strong>the</strong> sidewalk. It was tremendous, but we couldn’tget <strong>in</strong>.8

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