I scarce dared lift my eyes to Mr. Winthrop lest he might be preparing to
leave; but to my relief he sat calmly down along with nearly the entire
congregation, and then the other meeting began first with a number of
prayers, afterward with speaking by men and women all over the house.
When Mr. Bowen prayed, there was a solemn hush as if the people were
almost holding their breath lest some word might be missed. I could not
wonder that men's hearts were melted by the power and tenderness of his
utterances. Strange that God should hide such gifts away for years when
the world was in such need of workers. Along through the meeting there
were occasional snatches of song, deep, resonant melody that uplifted
the heart as it welled up from glad, thankful souls. Men and women rose,
for the most part with modest calmness, and told what God had done for
them, and what they still expected from our Father as loving as He is
rich. I listened spellbound. Some of them had a story to tell so like
my own that my heart was thrilled at times. I wanted to tell what God had
done for me, but before that crowded house, and worse than all, in
presence of Mr. Winthrop, I found it impossible; but just at the close
the minister, with a kindly thoughtfulness for which I blessed him said:
"There may be some one here who loves Christ but has not courage to tell
us so. If they are willing to witness for Him we extend them the
privilege of doing this by merely rising to their feet."
My heart beat painfully and my head swam, but forgetful of my guardian's
displeasure, and the concentrated gaze of some hundreds of eyes, I stood
up.
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