The crowds had been packing the traveling tent revival every night that week, grateful offerings filling the pockets of the evangelist. Cure after cure was enacted in the sweltering heat of those July evenings. Emotions were at an all time high on the last night as the last two afflicted souls reached the evangelist at the front of the tent.
Struggling up the steps on her crutches poor Mrs. Smith hobbled up to the evangelist. “Heal me! I haven’t been able to walk without crutches in twenty years.”
“Yes, Sister! You will be healed! Go behind that curtain and wait with the others waiting for healing.” Mrs. Smith slowly and painfully made her way behind the curtain.
Johnny Jones was the last in line. “I have a lifth. It hath made my life awful. Pleath heal me of my lifth!”
“Yes, Brother! You will be healed! Go behind the curtain with all the others and you will all be healed at once.”
The evangelist offered up a long, heartfelt prayer for healing. Weeping could be heard all over the tent. Finally, he concluded, calling out dramatically. “Mrs. Smith, you haven’t been able to walk without crutches for twenty years, have you?”
“No, Lord!” she replied from behind the curtain.
“You are healed! Throw your right crutch over the curtain.” Her right crutch flew over the curtain and clattered on the floor. “Now throw your left crutch over the curtain.” The left crutch followed.
Thunderous “Amens!” echoed all over the tent.
“Johnny Jones, you are healed of your lisp. Call out to us in a loud, clear voice so all can hear!” demanded the evangelist!
“Mithuth Thmith just fell on her ath!”