Branham Stories
A Mother's Love
Reminds me of a story of something happened in a city near by. Some years ago a mother had sent her girl away to college. Her name was Mary. Andother had washed over a washboard, and so forth, to--to pay her way through college. And one day she went to visit home. And she'd got mixed-up out there with a mixed class of people. And she got in fellowship with an unbelieving girl that was very worldly and ungodly. And it's bad when you go to s--segregating with such as that. Separate yourselves from the things of the world. Come out. Don't be better, try to act like you're better; but don't mar your garments with the sin, "Don't be partakers of other man's sins." If you want to speak a word of encouragement to people, all right, but don't have to wallow with the pig. You stay away from it. That's right.
And she'd got down into the gutter with this girl. And then when she come home, the train stopped in front. And the girl, setting at the window, looked out. And there was an old woman out there, that was all scarred all over her face, and her neck drawed way in, her little hands bony like that, looking with all that was in her heart, watching for someone to get off the train.
And this girl was with Mary; she said, "Mary, look at that old haggy-looking woman." Said, "Isn't she awful looking?" And that was Mary's mother. And Mary, because of the feeling of her friend, she said, "Yes, she is, very." And when they got off of the train, Mary caught in that stage, her mother run up and said, "Oh, darling, I'm so glad to see you."
And Mary turned her back to her mother. And she said, "I don't know you," and started to walk away.
And there happened to be a conductor standing there, and he jumped on this box, and he said, "Wait a minute." And he attracted the attention of all around. He said, "You child of misery, how could you turn your back on your own mother because of that little flip that's with you? Aren't you ashamed of yourself, Mary?"
Said, "I happen to know the case. Listen here, young woman," to the other girl that had made the remark about it. Said, "That's her mother. And Mary will never see the day that she was half as pretty as her mother. I knew her when she was young." And said, "She was happily married. And she had this little baby, Mary. And she was upstairs, and she had the windows open so that the--the breeze would...And the little cradle up there."
And said, "She went downstairs and was doing her washing, hanging them up in the backyard. And fire caught in the house. And before she knew it, the house was all aflame, the neighbors running. And when Mary's mother come around, said, she said, 'My baby! My baby, it's upstairs!' And the firemen said, 'The house is out of control. There's no way to get to it now.' But what did she do? She grabbed her little apron off of her, that was wet with wash water, and wrapped it around her face, and run through those blazes. And the policemen trying to stop her. She run up the stairs real quick. Why? Her loving baby was laying there. And she grabbed the baby, and she thought, "The wet garment protected me. But now if I take the baby back through, it'll cut it to pieces, those flames.' So she wrapped the baby in her own wet garment, held it in her bosom, and run through the blazes. And they tore the meat from her face."
Said, "That's the reason she's ugly. She's ugly, that you might be pretty. And you mean you'd turn your back on your mother that made such a sacrifice?" In shame she bowed her head.
I think that's the way we ought to be. This Gospel, this Comforter that we have, this Holy Spirit that the world calls fanaticism, that the people want to say they're holy-rollers, are you ashamed? Are you ashamed of the sacrifice that Jesus made yonder on the cross, that we might have this comfort? Would you swap It for the comfort of the world, a popularity of some neighbor? God forbid. May we cast our cares on Him, for He cares for us. May we love Him and cherish Him with all that's in us."
