Faith is to Believe

The tent went up over night on the empty lot across from the old hotel. Flyers were all over town announcing a meeting at seven p.m. for all who cared about the salvation of mankind.

I heard that the girl who played the piano for the preacher was more beautiful than any moving picture star. Promptly at seven, a young woman came out and sat at the piano. The stories were true, she was beautiful. The most beautiful woman I ever saw. I sat there falling in love. Yup, she was that beautiful.

Then he came out and put up his hands up for quiet.

“Let us all bow our heads and ask for God's forgiveness. Thank you, lord, thank you for sending your Son for our salvation and thank you for this most beautiful night that we all get to spend together.”

“Amen.”

I lost track of what ever he said after that. Staring at that piano player I missed ole Mr. Jenkins speaking in some foreign language, tongues the preacher called it. Some women fainted when the preacher came down in to the crowd. He pulled me up on the stage, dragging me and my crutches up there. Then the big man held up his hands again and everything went quiet. The music stopped, the prayers stopped, Mr. Jenkins stopped speaking in tongues, and the whole tent was as quiet as a church.

He placed his huge hands on the side of my head, whispered a prayer and then announced to the crowd, then to me, “Follow me. I know the way”. With that he turned and walked in simple steps across the stage beckoning me to follow. I threw down my crutches, standing free for a minute, I took a step and entered heaven.