In early childhood I was taught to pray and to reverence God's Word.
I was deeply impressed with the truths that I learned at Sunday-school.
Even as a child I loved the preaching-service, and the Word of God made
a strong and lasting impression upon my mind.
When I was about ten years old, a revival was held in my home community.
At an afternoon service, held especially for the children, I responded
to the altar-call, and there I was completely broken up, the tears
running in profusion down my face. My dear mother knelt by my side:
"My boy," she said, "if you should desire anything good that I could
bestow upon you, would you ask me for it?" I promptly replied in the
affirmative. "Then," she continued, "would you believe that your request
would be granted?" Again I answered in the affirmative. "That is the way
to receive God's blessings," she said. "Now, when you ask the Lord to
forgive your sins, believe that he hears and answers your prayer."
In simple, child-like faith I believed the promise, and the peace of
God gently flooded my soul. One of the most prominent features of my
childhood experience was the peculiar love I felt for every one.
I longed to see my companions saved.