William Branham's full stories about the woman who was alleged to have been raised from the dead in his “Life Story” book:

 

Notice, wife was there that night when we looked and seen all that mass of people standing there, Jonesboro. She said, "Honey, did all those come to hear you preach?"
I said, "No. They've come from the east and west. They come from the north and south, and the lands of far to feast with the King, to dine as His guests." I said, "They're children of the King." I said, "They're not here to see me, honey. They're here to see Jesus."
She said, "Well, how will you ever get to the auditorium?"
I said, "There'll be men to meet me at the bottom of the hill here."
I looked at that crowd; I said, raised up my hands. I said, "Dear dying Lamb, Thy precious Blood shall never lose its power till all the ransomed church of God be saved to sin no more."
The Gospel is the greatest drawing card the world's ever had. That's right. Though preached in its simplicity... "If I be lifted up, I'll draw all men unto Me." That's true.

. . .

There'd been a blind man from up in Kennett, was healed that night before that. And he was going on his road home, been drawing a blind pension for twelve years. And he was healed. I asked God to bless him. I said, “Do you believe?”

He said, “With all my heart.”

I said, “Go on rejoicing, testifying of your healing.”

They led him out to an old Ford. He started up the road, about a hundred and something miles up to Kennett, Missouri. And he was going up the road, praising God for his sight, just as blind as he could be. All at once, he screamed. He said, “Stop the car. I see the lights.” He jumped out of the car, up-and-down the road he went, jumping and screaming.

He went into Kennett, just... Or at the Catholic church was having mass, put his cane up in the air and his hat on there. He walked down through the Catholic church, screaming, “I'm healed. I'm healed by the glory of God.” Out into the Methodist church he went. Up-and-down the streets he...?... the country there. They were testifying everywhere of his healing.

Looking out to one side, I seen a man motioning his hand, like this. And I thought it looked like a ambulance driver. He had on a blue looking uniform. And I said, “Are you motioning for me, sir?”

He said, “Yes, sir.” Said, “Brother Branham,” said, “I've brought my patient down from Kennett, where the blind man was healed this morning.” He said, “And I've got to make another trip tonight from the hospital.” And said, “I think my patient's dead.” (We had to have a house doctor there. There's so many sick and things; you have to have a house doctor. We couldn't find him anywhere.) Said, “I think my patient's dead. Won't you come to her?”

And I said, “Brother, I'd like to go. But how could I get through that crowd? There's probably two or three thousand people between here and there.”

They had a row reserved for ambulances out there. Many of them, eighteen or twenty of them setting in that row. And I said, “Well, I—I couldn't get out there.”

Four men stepped down out of the balcony, said, “We'll take you, Brother Branham, if you wish to go.”

I said, “Well, if you'll sing a hymn while I'm gone, or something.”

One of the ministers stepped up to the microphone. And they started me through the crowd. Oh, my. I was pushing, and people crying and begging. Oh, you know. We got out to the ambulance; they opened the door. And he stepped to the door. And one sight that I shall never forget...

Sometime when I can get alone up in the mountains, I set down and think these things over. Now, I don't have time, hardly. And there was a dear old Arkansas brother, very typical, an old faded out blue shirt on, been washed many times, his hat, sewed, the top of it with twine, wrapping cord, his shoes, the soles of them about off. And he was kneeling down on the floor, gripping this hat, and needed a shave real bad, and the tears rolling down his face, saying, “God, give me mother back.”

And I looked, laying there, there laid a woman with her mouth open, her eyes open, also set back.

And the intern said, “Here's Brother Branham.”

He turned around, said, “Oh, Brother Branham,” said, “how I want—wanted... She wanted to see you.” Said, “She's a good woman, Brother Branham.” Said, “She's helped... She's raised five children.” Said, “They're all grown and married.” Said, “Now we...” Said, “We've got her a little place.” And said, “She... We picked blackberries last summer,” and said, “together.” And said, “She made some quilts.” And said, “She's been so bad with cancer,” said, “they've give her up. And we sold the blackberries yesterday, and some of her quilts so we could have the money to pay the ambulance to bring us down here.” Said, “She wanted to see you so bad. And she's gone, Brother Branham. It was her last request. I've done all I could do, sir.”

And I said, “God bless you, dad.” I put my hand... I said, “You'll see her in a better land then.”

He said, “Yes, she was a Christian, Brother Branham. But oh, she wanted to see you so bad.”

I said, “All right.” I said... Took a hold of her hand. Now, I do not know whether the woman was gone or not. God is my... I think she was in a coma. I'm not sure. Although I couldn't feel her heart, nor nothing.

But now listen. Then I put my hand on her; she felt cold. I put my hand on her hand; it felt cold. And it looked like muddy looking stuff, had run from her eyes. And her—had her false teeth taken out, and her lips was drawed in and her mouth setting back like that, her face real thin. And she was... had her eyes set right back like that, and she was laying that way. And I took a hold of her. I shook her.

Seemingly she was dead, whether she was I do not know. God is my judge, I couldn't say. But when I took ahold of her right hand, there went that cancer. Well I knew then, I think now if the woman had been dead the cancer would have left too. Now, I—I believe it would. Now, that's the reason I think she was in—in a coma. So I was holding her hand, and it was hitting, I could hear, feel it hitting like that; turning, hitting. So then I said, “Dad, let's pray.”

And he said, “All right, Brother Branham.” And he got down on his knees, and began to calling, saying, “God, why did you let her go like that? Why couldn't she just have lived a little while longer?”

Now, after hearing him praying, I started crying myself. I couldn't help it. Poor old fellow, I looked at him, his old hands was raising up to God, and he's feeble and trembling.

And I said, “Heavenly Father, You Who brought again Jesus from the dead,” I said, “be merciful. Comfort the brother's heart.” I kept on. I kept on praying. He was just screaming at the top of his voice. And I said, “Father, be merciful and heal her.” And the vibration of the cancer stopped.

Well, Satan said to me then, “She died then.”

Well, I just kept holding on. I said, “Lord, I believe that You brought up Lazarus from the grave. I believe You give the woman, the widow, her son again. I believe You laid Your hands upon Jairus' daughter and she came to life. Now, You're here. You can spare her life. And I'm just looking to You, Father. I pray that You'd hear me,” like that.

And I felt her grip my hand. I knowed she was alive then. I didn't say it. I just quit praying and watching him crying so much, he didn't hear me cease praying. And I looked, and I seen this skin on her forehead begin to wrinkling. I knowed life was in the woman. I just stood there a little bit on the side of the bed.

In a few moments, she was beginning to look around. Said, “Howdy do.”

He done got down on the floor with his head on the floor, just a crying in the ambulance.

And I said, “Howdy do?”

She said, “Who are you?”

I said, “I'm Brother Branham.”

She said, “Oh, you are?”

I said, “Set up.”

And she set up, like that. He raised up, looked at her. He said, “Mother! Mother!” And he threw his arms around her and begin to hug her, like that. And they were just screaming both of them together, sitting in the ambulance. And I started to go out the door.

And the driver set there, the intern, the driver. He said, “Brother Branham, you couldn't get out that door.” Said, “They're just packed against there.” Said, “I'll tell you what I'll do.” Said, “I sent those men all around...”

Way back in the parking lot, standing full of people. And some of them hadn't left there for eight days. It was drizzling rain. And so they had this...

Set right in the seat. Anyone on the inside, stayed there. They let somebody go out and get them a hamburger or something, come in. They'd eat right there. They wouldn't move. They stayed right there, slept right in their seats.

And he—he just started to unbutton his coat, like this, and hold it back at the door, like he was taking his coat off. Said, “Now when I do that you go out the other side. And they're going to meet you down there at the end.”

I said, “All right.” That looked like a hypocritical deed, but I just couldn't... I had to do it. I couldn't get back to the auditorium.

“Believe Ye That I Am Able To Do This?” (50-0820E).

 

And just as I come to the platform, I looked. A place had been roped off like that with nothing but just ambulance stretchers. Two nurses was standing here and a little girl dying with TB, about fifteen years old. She kept looking up at me. I knew that she was going get healed. I could tell the way, just the same as I knew that lady was going to be healed just then. Now, I knew she was going to be healed. And I kept watching her. Just a few moments, I kept seeing somebody motioning like that, with a blue suit on, standing back that way. And it looked like a cab driver. I said, “Are you calling me, sir?” He said, “Yes, sir.” He said, “Brother Branham…” They had about fifteen ambulances backed up out there, the ambulance row. He said, “I have come down…”

There’d been a man healed that day from Kennett—Clement, Missouri, I believe it was—up that boot-heel part of Missouri. The man had been totally blind for ten years, drawing a blind pension. And that night he was healed there at the—the meeting, and went back. Why, the next morning he got in home about daylight. He had his blind cane, his hat on the cane like that. He comes walking down through Methodist church a screaming and praising God (They throwed him out.), carrying on. He went over, run up into the Catholic church and turned him out. Why, he was about, set the city wild, everything. And they took him out there and had him on the radio. He come through that little station down there, over from Jonesboro, I think, and… Oh, Bly—Blytheville, Blytheville station. You, I guess you, back there from Arkansas, know where that’s at, the Blytheville station. That’s where they were—his—his broadcasting, had him on the radio that morning. He was a shoe cobbler there, years and years before that. And there he was, perfectly normal and well. And he could see. He stood right there in church and read the Bible and everything: had been totally blind; drawing a blind pension for ten years. And so they was just having an awful time.

He… This man said, “I have brought patients down here. And I got a woman out here that’s dying out here now, if she isn’t already dead.” And said, “I can’t get the doctor nowhere,” and says, “I—I don’t know what to do.” Said, “Can’t you come to her?” I said, “Brother, looky, there’s probably a thousand people walled to that wall there? How could I get in there?” And some men stepped out, said, “We’ll take you if you want to go.” Brother Reed stepped up to the platform, said, “Go ahead.” And out through there—and the pitiful part, them dear people… I ain’t saying this because there’s some Arkansas people setting here. See? But I tell you, they may not have too much of this world’s goods, but they sure got faith that can make some of these big cities—cities feeled ashamed of themselves. That’s right. They come down there. I seen young girls pack their shoes and stockings in their—in their hands, and be coming. They wouldn’t know I was in woods there praying. And see them walk along the side of the road, barefooted, and—and then put their—dust off their feet and put their shoes and socks: young ladies, sixteen, seventeen years old, and go right on to the church like that. Come in old cotton wagons and things like that, trying to get…

And here, some time ago somebody wanted to give me a Cadillac car. And I said, “Do you mean to tell me that I have…” I said, “Brother, I’m glad you got one.” One said, “We just gave Avak one; why not give you one?” I said, “Look, brother, you mean to tell me that I’d go down through Arkansas, and some of them poor little women out there pulling that cotton sack, and their back broke, and eating fat bacon, perhaps, and—and corn meal for breakfast, and say, ‘There goes Brother Branham,’ going down the street out there in a Cadillac car?” I said, “Not me, brother. That don’t run in my blood to do that.” No, sir. If I got what I deserved, I’d ride a bicycle or be walking if it was going through there. No, that’s right, brother. But it’s all right now, any of you’s got a Cadillac, I ain’t saying nothing against a Cadillac, but that’s just… That’s for you. See? All right.

Anyhow, in there, these poor people, laying out there… And I’d got to the ambulance, and he got me up there: and friends, one of the most pathetic sights I ever seen. There in that ambulance was an old dad down, the souls of his shoes out, patched… Oh, when he put me in mind of my own dad, his old blue shirt, faded and patched all over. An old hat in his hand was sewed with twine-cord, around like that, him saying, “O God, give her back to me. God, give her back to me,” wringing his hands like that. And the driver said, “Here’s Brother Branham,” called him by name. And I—and I… “Oh,” and he said, “Oh, Brother Branham, she’s dead; she’s dead.” And he said, “Oh, mama’s gone,” started crying. I said, “What is it, dad?” And I looked. He said, “Look at her.” Well now, truly, I don’t think the woman was dead. See? But her mouth was open to… Her teeth would been taken out, and she had… Her eyes were set way back, and like muddy water, like, run down the side. Her forehead was stiffened. Now, I’ve seen people that was dead, and I seen the Lord bring them to life. If I had time I’d testify and tell you about it; but you’ve read it in the magazines and papers, and seen the notary seals and so forth that testify the same thing. I’ve seen three dead people that was pronounced dead, and laid out and gone, that’s come back to life, because Jesus Christ did it. That’s right. And…

But anyhow, in this case here, I think the woman was in a coma. I’m not sure. But I—I went up there and I took a hold of her. She was… I shook her, and she was laying…

And I said, “Can you—can you—can you hear me?” And her mouth was just open. She was laying stiff.

I said, “Dad…” I had a hold of her hand.

And I said, “Dad, let us—let’s pray.”

And he said… I said, “God, please console the life of this poor man here, that his wife…”

He said, “Oh, Brother Branham, she was so sweet.”

Said, “She—she… We’ve raised our children.”

Said, “We done it. We harrowed over them old clods together, all through her life.”

Said, “We’ve worked so hard.” And said, “And…?… she took cancer.”

And he said, “When she got sick,” said, “I—I sold my farm. I done everything to try to save her life.”

And said, “And I sold my mules.” And said, “And I—I spent everything.”

And said, “The doctor’s done the very best he could, but they couldn’t stop it.”

And he said, “Brother Branham, how we come down here,” said, “we sold her quilts that she’s been quilting and making.”

Said, “And—and some of those blackberries that she canned last year,” said, “we sold them to pay for the ambulance, bring them a hundred and fifty miles down.”

Said, “She’s gone now, Brother Branham.”

I said, “Well, dad, she was a Christian.” “Oh, yes, Brother Branham, she was a Christian.” I said, “Well, you’ll meet her again.”

I said, “Let’s pray.” And we got to praying. And as I was praying, like that, I said, “Lord God, You made heavens and earth. You know all things. I pray that You’ll console. Thou art God. I know not what to say.” And about that time I felt something moving down. I thought, “Why, that’s just psychology. I’m just thinking that.” And I just kept on. I said, “Lord God, You know all things; all thing’s committed to You.” And about that time, I feeled her hand twitch on mine. Now. Well, Satan said, You know what that was?” Said, “That’s… She’s dying; that’s her nerves jumping like that.” But all the time I could feel the vibration of that cancer. And now, the reason I thought—know she—didn’t think she was dead, because that cancer would’ve went with it; but the germ of cancer was still there. I knew it. In a few moments, the cancer ceased. It didn’t move no more. And I kept holding her hand and praying. After while I looked down; she squeezed my hand. I knowed that wasn’t nerves twitching. So he was still crying and praying. I looked over at him. And when I looked over at—at him, he was just crying and praying. I looked down to her, and this skin on her forehead was wrinkling back, and she was moving her eyes like that. I just held real still. He just kept praying just as loud as he could, just screaming and crying and crying, “God, give her back.” And she looked over; she said, “Who are you?” I said, “I’m Brother Branham.” About that time he looked up, and he heard that, and he looked; he hollered, “Mother, Mother, Mother,” and he grabbed her in his arms like that and begin to screaming. About a—about a year after that, she was testifying on the radio about it in one of my programs down in Texas somewhere there where she come down, given a testimony.

Well, I—I said, “Well, I’m going to get back now to the—to the car.”
“Expectancy” (52-0817A).
 

Hattie was raised up from the dead, living today, worked on the Pennsylvania Railroad. And the next was this baby over here. This lady out here from Kennett, Missouri. I know a lot of them thought she was dead; she might’ve been. The night the little blind colored girl was healed back there behind the place. You remember the…?… when I was here the last time. Now, she might’ve been dead; I don’t know. I think she was in a coma. She come on down testified, plumb to California about her healing: cancer. Maybe setting here tonight, for all I know. And so, but I don’t know whether she was dead or not; I couldn’t say.

But anyhow, I know those three doctors statements that they were dead. Then this little boy, he, ’course, he wasn’t dead yet. But he was unconscious, hadn’t gained conscious, this was the third day. So then they said, “Come down to the hospital.”
“Testimony” (53-0510).
 

There laid the patient. Now, they claimed she was dead. I couldn't say. I don't know. But I got in and the driver said, “Here's Brother Branham.”

Thousand or two people was pressed from between the auditorium and where the stretchers was ... or, where the ambulance was. And when I got in there, I looked at him, I said, “What's the matter, dad?”

He said, “Are you Brother Branham?”

I said, “Yes.” There'd been a man from Kennett, Missouri, had been healed that night ... the night before that, rather; was blind, had been blind for ... had been drawing a blind pension for ten, twelve years.

And the next day, he went up through the city. He run into the Methodist church with his hat on a cane, his blind cane, praising God; screaming till they had to put him out. He run down at the Catholic church and they put him out. And he was hanging over the back of a man's shoulders with a cane on his ... rolling around like that, just a praising God, as they throwed him out of the church.

Well, he about tore the town up up there, the way he was going on. Been blind for ten years and received his sight. Well, sure. I would be too, wouldn't you? Certainly.

And then the... this lady... somebody... He said, “Brother Branham,” said, “I've done all that a man can do.” Said, “She's harrowed over them old clods out there. She's made me what I am. We've raised our children.” And said, “She's got cancer; it's on the liver.” And said, “She was dying.” And said, “The blackberries that we picked last summer, we sold them, and a couple of her quilts that she'd quilted,” and said, “to get the money to pay the ambulance to come down here and bring her down here.” Said, “She's dead.” And he was just a screaming and crying.

I said, “Well, dad!” I looked down. Now, the woman, all indications looked like she was dead. But I don't know whether she was or not. I can't say. They had taken her false teeth out and her lips was drawed in. Her eyes were watery, you know, and set back in the back of her head. She was laying perfectly still with sticky perspiration over her. Cold.

So, he said, “And she's gone, Brother Branham.” Said, “She wanted to see you so bad. And we couldn't even get her through this crowd.” Said, “She was so sick. And she's gone.” And she was ... or, he was crying.

I said, “Well, let's just kneel down and have prayer, dad,” for consolation. So, I took her by the hand. And I said, “Heavenly Father, I pray that You will help this poor old man, and bless her, Lord. And I pray that You will make it peaceful for her in a better land.”

And while I was praying, I felt her hand grip mine. The devil said, “That's her muscles, after they're dead, twitching.” So, I just kept on praying, and she gripped again. He said, “That's just the muscles a twitching.” So, I kept on praying but I looked at her. And the skin on her forehead, well, it begin to wrinkle. That wasn't muscles twitching. I looked down at her and she was looking at me.

She said, “Who are you?”

I said, “I'm Brother Branham.”

She said, “Are you Brother Branham?”

I said, “Yes.” And she raised up and her husband was crying, praying.

He said, “Mother, mother, mother.” And he grabbed her around the waist like that. And they begin screaming and shouting. What a time!

About two years later, I met her over in California. She was following the meetings testifying, everywhere she could. The ambulance driver said, “Preacher? My, they're packed against the side of that of ambulance.” Said, “You couldn't get out there.” Said, “I sent them men on back in the back of the parking lot, back there.” Said, “It's standing full of people, been standing back there for days.” Pouring down rain. Didn't matter to them.

So, he said, “I'm going to act like I'm taking off my coat now, like this, so they can't see. And you go out this side of the ambulance, and go around, and go in the back part, and come in through the back yard.” Said, “Them preachers will be around there to pick you up.” Them ushers, rather.

And I said, “All right.”

So, looked like a hypocritical trick but that was all I could do. I couldn't get through that press. So, I went out and went along these ambulances and come back.

(The other day I stood back there and just raised up my hands and screamed out to God.) I went around through the back, was coming, pushing through the crowd, you know. Just hard as I could.

And I'd push; somebody would say, “Quit pushing.” I just kept pushing on, you know. Somebody said, “Stop! Sit down.” I just kept pushing on, you know, trying to get up there where them men was [unclear words]. Directly, I pushed up against a great big guy. He laid his hand on my shoulder, said, “I said, quit pushing.” I did, for I was afraid he was going to push. So, I said, “Yes, sir. Excuse me.”

“I Perceive That Thou Art A Prophet” (53-0614E).

 

And they got me into the building. And just as I got in there, I happened to look down. Oh, the ambulance stretchers and everything laying. There's two nurses by a little girl here. She had TB.
And I--I could just feel that something was going to take place right there. And while I was watching it, there was a man standing over on this side with a blue uniform, kept waving his hat.
I said, "Are you trying to talk to me, sir?"
He said, "Yes, sir."
Said, "I've--I've got a case out here that's and--and she's dying. And I think she's already dead." Said, "I can't find a doctor anywhere." And said, "We had a doctor there, just a house doctor." And said, "I think she's already dead." And said, "Would you come to her?"
I said, "Brother, there's probably two thousand people backed in there." I said, "I don't believe I could do it."
And--and four or five ushers stepped down and said, "Well, we'll help you get up there."
We started out, and got out to the ambulance where... Oh there was about eight or ten ambulances setting in the row. And this is a big ambulance.

The--the man told me said, "There's been a man had been healed that morning, blind, been blind for ten years. And he was prayed for, told him he was going to receive his sight. And on the road home that morning, his eyes come open." And his... He was riding an old Model T Ford up them rough roads in Arkansas. And he begin to scream. They stopped the car and out and around and around the car he went screaming. He run into the city, Kennett, or some little place down in Missouri, that little boot hill type of Missouri there.
And he run went into the church, the Catholic church, and begin to testify, and they throwed him out. And--and he had his hat hanging on his black cane like or his white cane, rather, his black hat, going down the street screaming to the top of his voice, used to be a shoe cobbler there.
And he was going down the street, screaming and praising God. He went into a Methodist church. Ha-ha. They throwed him out of there. They didn't know... He was taking the city. Now, I tell you, he was... And they had a everybody in the hospital wanted to come down and be prayed for.
So, the ambulance said, "I've got to go back." And said, "I've--I've got to..." So we got in there and when he...
I said, "Well, now you just open the door." We went in and a very typical old dad there, his old hat sewed with twin, wrapping string, you know, around...

Those Arkansas people are poor as they can be. But brother, under them old blue shirts beats some real good true Holy Ghost filled hearts. Yes, sir. I'd rather have one of them with me any time, than maybe a slicker with his collar turned around in the back, and I couldn't trust him out of my sight. Yes, indeedy, yes, indeed.
Just... I tell this old time religion, brother, it straightens you up. That's right. It'll make a--a--a silk dress and a calico put their arms around one another and call "sister." Is that right? It'll make a tuxedo suit and a pair of overalls call each other "brother." That's what it'll do, brother.
It'll clean you up. It'll make no difference in you. It tears down that self, and starch, and pride, that we've got.

And so, then I--I remember getting in there, and he had the soles of his shoes was out. He was kneeling down hollering, "O God, give her back to me, God." Poor old fellow. I happened to think of my own old dad when I see him gripping that hat like that.
I said, "What's the matter, dad?"
He said, "Who are you?"
And I said, "I'm Brother Branham."
He said, "Oh, Brother Branham," said, "mother's such a sweet woman." And said, "I've lost her, I'm sure."

And I said, "Well, what's the matter?" So I took a hold of her hand. And her eyes were set now, but I do not think she was dead. See? And her false teeth had been taken out, and laying down. And like muddy looking water would come down from her eyes. And her eyes were set right back. Real old woman, not real old, but passed the middle age, I'd say sixty-eight seventy, somewhere along there.
So she was laying and--like that. And I said... And I felt of her. Her forehead was sticky with perspiration. And he said, "She's just quit breathing awhile ago, Brother Branham." Said, "Oh, she's a good woman." Said, "She's harrowed over them old clods and helped to make me a living." Said, "We raised a bunch of children." And said, "She took this cancer." And said, "The doctor has worked faithfully. He's done all he could do." It was in the female glands. And said, "There's nothing more he could do." And said, "We sold her quilts to get the ambulance to bring us down here," the quilts that she had made.

I thought, "O God." I said, "Well, let's pray, brother." And I took a hold of her hand. And I said, "Heavenly Father..." I was going to pray for consolation. I'll confess it. I thought the woman was gone.
And so... I... And it was while I was praying I felt something grip my hand. The devil said to me, said, "That's just the flesh you know. Just she's dead and that's just the nerves twitching." And I went ahead praying a little bit longer, and I felt it twitch again. I looked. I kept praying. But I was looking over at her.
And the old man was down on the floor crying, "God, give me back mother." And I was holding her hands like that. And then I happened to look again. And I seen the--the skin on her forehead wrinkling.
And she looked up at me. She said, "What's your name?"
And I said, "I'm Brother Branham."
She said, "Well, we come down for you to pray for me."
And I said, "Yes, ma'am."
She said, "I feel so good."
I said, "Would you set up?"
And about that time he looked, and the old man looked at me hollered, "Mother, mother, mother!" the tears running down his poor old whiskered cheeks. And he--and he grabbed like her and they begin to hug and kissing one another.
And oh, three or four months later, she was in the meeting down there testifying, just shelling the woods with that testimony.

“Testimony” (53-0902).

 

I happened to look down here and the ambulance, stretchers was laying everywhere. And there was a little girl laying there and there's a vision coming over her. And I noticed over this way, somebody kept motioning like this. He had on a dark suit and a blue cap in his hand. I thought he looked like an ambulance driver.

The night before there had been a man up at Kennett, Missouri, been twenty years was blind—a shoe cobbler, and he received his sight that morning. He went home, he run all over the city. He run into a Methodist church with his hat on His cane, blind. There was a white thing running through the church, and they throwed him out of there. He went out to the Catholic Church, and they throwed him out of there. He was taking the town.

So, everybody was coming from everywhere. And so, I looked there, and this man kept motioning like this to me with his cap. I said, “Are you calling to me, sir?”

He said, “Yes, sir.” Said, “I'm from up in Missouri.” And said, “I got another trip to make tonight.” Said, “I got a patient out there.” And said, “The patient's already dead. And had a house doctor.” And said, “I can't find him anywhere. I don't know what to do. Could you come to her?”

And I said, “Well, sir, they wouldn't take my word pronounce her dead.” I said, “It'd take the undertaker.”

He said, “I wish you would come out. Her husband's just frantic out there, maybe you could quieten him.”

I said, “Well, sir, there's two thousand people through here.” And that row ... there's a big row just reserved there for ambulances along on the other side of the auditorium.

And so, he said, “I'll help get you out.” There's a big group of men, I passed through the audience ... as we pressed through and Mr. Reed begin to lead the songs again. And I went out there. And there was a big black ambulance setting there. And they opened up the door. And I got in it.

A typical old Arkansas brother. Now, if there's somebody here from Arkansas, don't mean to hurt your feelings. They're poor. Poor, but they sure got something under that old blue shirt, brother, that beats true to God. That's right.

I'd rather have.... I tell you what this old time salvation does: It'll make a tuxedo suit and a pair of overalls put their arms around one another and call each other “brother” too. And, sure, it'll make calico and silk sit together and call each other “sister.” Certainly will. It'll take all the starch out of you. You realize that you're all one person in Christ Jesus, brothers and sisters.

And there I looked in there. And a poor old fellow back there. And his shoes ... soles was off of his shoes, and old faded out overalls. Reminded me of my poor old daddy. And his shirt was patched all over it. And he had an old hat in his hand. And it was sewed up around the side with twine cord. And the whiskers was kind of long on his face. He hadn't shaved maybe for a week or ten days. And weary look on his face. And he was saying, “Oh, mother, why did leave me? Why did you leave me?”

Poor old fellow, I looked at him. I thought, Oh, my! Now what can I tell him? And I sat back through the ambulance to the front where they opened it up—the door. And so, he looked at me and he said.... I said, “How do you do?”

He said, “How do you do?” He said, “Are you the doctor?”

And I said, “No.” I said, “I'm Brother Branham.”

He said, “Oh, Brother Branham.” Said, “Poor mother.” Said, “She wanted to see you so bad before she died.” Said, “She's such a good woman, Brother Branham.” Said, “She plowed over those old clods up there and made me what I am.” And said, “She took cancer two years ago.” And said, “We took her to St. Louis. The doctors operated. They done everything.” Said, “I've even sold my mules and everything,” he said, “to try to get her healed.”

And said, “The doctors has give her up. And we heard that this man come up this morning testifying.” And said, “We went and sold some quilts that she made, and some blackberries that she canned last year, to get the ambulance to bring her down.” And said, “Now she's dead, Brother Branham.” And said, “Oh, I don't what I'm going to do without her. To go back home, it's so lonesome.”

And I said, “Well, Dad, the only thing I know to do is let's you and I just offer a prayer.” And I felt her head. Now, I don't hardly think the woman was dead, because.... Now, she might have been. I couldn't say. But they'd taken her false teeth out, and her lips was sunk way back. And it was like muddy water out of her eyes—and they just set. And her perspiration was real sticky. No pulse at all. No pulse at all. I felt her arm.

And I just knelt down, holding her hand. And we started praying. And he was just crying and praying. “O God, if I can only see her, talk to her once more.” Like that.

And I was praying. I said, “Father, I pray Thee to be merciful to this dear brother, and to help him and to bless him. And to this dear woman that come all this way.” I felt her squeeze my hand.

The devil said to me, said, “You see that's muscles. She's dead. It's just her muscle twitching.” And I agreed with him. So, I went on praying just a few minutes. And it twitched again. I thought, Well, that's strange. I looked down, I seen the skin on her forehead wrinkling. The devil was wrong there. So she looked at me. And she raised up. I never said a word. Just quit praying. He was just a crying and wringing his hands, like that, looking up in the air. And she raised up.

She said, “What's your name?”

I said, “I'm Brother Branham.”

And he looked, he said, “Mother.” And the poor old fellow grabbed her in his arms like that and begin to screaming and crying. She followed our meetings for months and months; I heard from her. That's been about eight, nine years ago. And I heard from her here about two, three months ago, just before I went overseas. She's just fine and dandy; nothing wrong with her at all. She's just perfect normal and well as she could be.

“At Thy Word, Lord, I'll Let Down The Net” (54-1207).

 

Just the night before there had been a man that was a shoe cobbler, up in another city in Arkansas, that had been blind for some twenty years. And when he passed through the line, the Holy Spirit had told him about his conditions and pronounced him healed. Well, when he left the building, he could not see any more than he did when he come in the building, but he knew that I did not know him and there had to be some sort of a supernatural Being to speak it; because he knew I knowed nothing of him. And he accepted that Person, not me, the One that was speaking.
And the story was, as they threw it on the radio the next morning and across the country, that on his road home that night, about two o'clock in the morning, he began to see the lights of the car flickering in front of him. And the next morning he rushed into his own church, the Methodist church and there they were... He caused so much disturbment till he was thrown out. And then down the street he went into one church and then the other to testify. And it caused a commotion.

Many of the peoples had come from the hospitals and were wanting to be prayed for. As we went out across, some men helping me to the ambulance, there was a--a typical Arkansas mother, laying there, dying with cancer. And her husband thought that she was dead, for she had just went into an--a coma, frankly. And she was--she was laying quietly and her husband knelt down in the back of the ambulance where the driver put me in. And he said, "Brother Branham, she longed so much for you to pray for her." Said, "She was a good woman." Said, "She helped hire... There was the harrow over these old clods here, and she made me what I am." And said, "She's a mother of five children." And he said, "I sold my farm and I put her in the hospital, and the last thing we sold was our--our team. The doctors has fought faithfully," he said, "to save her life, but she was given up and sent home. And to get the ambulance to bring us down, she sold her blackberries that we canned two years ago, to get the money to come. And now she lays quiet; she's dead."

And I took a hold of her hand, and he knelt down in his old patched shirt, faded out... And as I prayed just a little prayer, I thought I seen the wrinkles in her forehead kindly frown. Satan said to me, "Of course, you know that's just the reaction of the muscles. She's dead." But as I continued to pray, her hand gripped mine like that. And Satan said again, "It's just the muscles." But I just kept on praying.
In a few moments she raised up, and she said, "Who are you?" And her old husband, so overcome by the bringing of life again to his sweet wife, he threw his arms around her, begin to scream, "Mother."
I slipped out the door of the ambulance, and I said, "Can you get me back to the platform?"
And the man said, "There's two thousand people between here and the door." He said, "I'll take you around in the back of the parking lot and see if I can make the way in."

And just to show that God will respect those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, when we got to where the line of the chartered buses was, I heard a noise. And I looked, and it was a young colored girl, nicely dressed. In Arkansas, in those days had strict segregation. And she was blind, and she was trying to find her way around, calling for her papa. I noticed her because she was kindly tall, and she was saying, "Oh, papa, where are you?" and feeling with her hands, and saying, "Won't somebody help me to find my papa?"
Well, I stood still. No one knew me, 'cause I'd just been in the temple all the time, and they couldn't get near the place. So I just stood there just a moment, and I looked at her. And she said, "Somebody, please help me find my papa." Nobody seemed to pay any attention to her. And I was standing still, watching her. She come moving through the crowd.

“Testimony” (59-0411B).

 

And there'd been a shoe cobbler, blind, from up somewhere above... I forget the name of the city now, close to Jonesboro, about thirty, forty miles. And he'd been blind for years. And the Holy Spirit had pronounced him healed. And he went around, come back in line again.
Said, "You said, sir, I was healed. My eyes are not open."
said, "That has nothing to do with it. You told me you believed me."
He said, "I do."
I said, "Then why are you questioning me?"
And so, he said... he went on. I said just keep saying, "Praise the Lord for my sight."
And he was going home that morning, about five o'clock, being driven by, I believe it was his son, in an old Model A car, and going up the road. And he was setting in the back seat saying, "Praise the Lord for my sight," and his eyes come open. And he just about alarmed the whole country.
And so, he run into the Catholic church that morning with his hat on the end of his cane, twirling it around like this, praising God for having his sight. And then went over in the Methodist church, and they was going to have him arrested for disturbing the worship. Don't look like that would disturbed anything, but--but it would...

So that night, I'd just wound my way into the platform, and I seen some ushers motioning to me. And there was a driver there. He said, "I've got two more trips to make tonight, bringing people from the hospital."
I went outside, got through to pray for some--a woman that was out there that was--they thought was dying with cancer. And she'd sold the blackberries that she'd canned to get the ambulance to bring her down, her husband had. That's about all they had left. Made some quilts, and they'd--she'd sold that. The Lord healed her. She got up out of the ambulance went out the back, went on in, tried to get in the meeting.

And I couldn't get back to the door again. There was so many piled in there, about the distance of this, wall to wall, and I just couldn't squeeze through. And one of the ushers come, said, "We'll pick you up in the back of the building. Nobody knows you."
I'd been there about eight or ten days. No one yet had--had got... Many had got into the place. They'd stay there day and night, just waiting for their turn. So then I got around to the back. And I remember it starting--kinda started raining, and I couldn't push my way through in the crowd hardly, and trying to get to the back door where they'd pick me up to get to the platform again.

My colored brethren and sisters tonight, you excuse me for this remark, and the way I shall say it. But it was in them days they still had kind of a move of segregation in Arkansas. So I started going in, and I heard a--someone calling their father. And I looked. It was a nice looking colored girl. She was blind. She was pushing her way around through the crowd, crying for her father. And no now, one was paying any attention to the young lady, and no one knew me.

“The Meanest Man In Santa Maria” (62-0630E).

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