My Life as a Child, PART TWO: Sampling from my Autobiography

My Life as a Child: PART TWO

My first testimony was given at the age of four in the Thursday evening Prayer Meeting in Graterford on August 10, 1939. My mother reported that I said, “Jesus loves me.” Prayer Meetings in Graterford and Harleysville left an indelible impression on me. A Class Leader led the service which consisted of singing, a devotional, testimonies, prayer requests and prayer. Testimonies were a vital part in which people shared answers to prayer, struggles in life and how God helped, or opportunities of witness with prayer request of salvation for the lost.

The time of prayer was quite different from what we are accustomed to today. We all got down on our knees in our pews and all began to pray out loud. For a stranger this might seem like confusion but it was simply the opportunity for everyone to vocalize their prayers. I conjecture that this practice developed from Great Awakening in the nineteenth century when a great outpouring of the Holy Spirit came upon the Church. On various occasions, both here in the States and in Africa, reports have been given of spontaneous eruption of audible prayers by everyone joined together in church. I well remember kneeling and praying audibly, loud enough so I could hear myself think surrounded by the din of the noise from everyone praying, yet soft enough so that no one else could hear my prayer.

In 1941 my mother during our Bible reading and prayer asked me whether I wanted to be saved from my sins and ask Jesus to come into my heart. Earlier on she must have broached the same question and had prayed with me. Probably I did not understand. So when I responded positively my father suggested that I do this in church Sunday evening. This could not have meant that he believed salvation could only be received in a church building because he himself was led to the Lord at his sister’s bedside in Lancaster County as a young man. More likely he wanted me to know what I was doing and have a memorable experience of this decision.

So on Sunday night in the Graterford Mennonite Brethren in Christ Church, February 2, 1941, I came forward to the altar along with another little girl at the end of the service to be saved . We knelt on the floor at a small wooden altar. My father first began to speak with the girl and pray with her. When he came to me he inquired whether I had prayed to receive Christ. I responded by saying I did not know what to do. So he explained the gospel to me once again and then invited me to pray in my own words, repenting of my sins and asking Jesus to save me. I can still remember that I prayed sincerely from my heart and believed that Jesus had truly saved me. From that time I have never had doubts about my salvation. During my teenage years in Mt. Carmel my mother inquired whether I had assurance of salvation or suffered from doubts. I had no doubts about my salvation and never did after that event at the age of five.

Like every little child I emulated my father. To me he was always “daddy,” even when I was in college. In fact, when I was in my twenties my mother suggested that I need not continue to call him “daddy,” but he always remained “daddy,” until later on I began to call him “dad.” As a small child I said, “Daddy is almost as strong as strong as Samson.” Naturally, I began to think of emulating him in what he did. At home I began to “preach” on the stairway landing in our house. As a small child I said, “Richard want to learn to play and sing for sick people when he get big like daddy.”

At the age of five I said, “If Jesus does not want me to be a missionary, I want to be a worker in a barn to make pretty things.” (My dad would do some carpentry for his hobby.) Throughout our years my parents always hosted the missionaries who came to visit our church. These included Mary and Bertha Miller, C.L. Miller, Harry and Thelma Stam, Lucile Rhinhardt – all serving in Africa – and many others. These missionaries at my tender age made an impression on me. Was there an alternative to being a missionary? My dad used to work in our barn behind our house to make various things out of wood, a trade that he had learned from his father. So I wanted to follow in my dad’s footsteps.

As I grew a bit older my dad would take me around on his visits to the various church members. I would help prepare for the summer Vacation Bible School which lasted two weeks. In 1930s and early 1940s flannelgraph lessons were the state of the art in communicating with children. My mind is not as retentive as many others so I do not remember any details of those Bible Schools. So it is especially significant that I remember one song we learned about missions. The first stanza began, “Pray, pray, pray. The Bible says to pray…” The remainder of that verse I do not remember. The second stanza began, “Give, give, give. The Bible says to give…” Once again, I do not remember the rest. But I do remember the full third stanza. “Go, go, go. The Bible says to “go” to every land that every man and boy and girl should know; that Jesus died on Calvary’s tree to bring to all salvation free. Oh who will go? Oh will you go?”

During my formative years in Graterford I remember nothing else concerning a missionary call. But without doubt the seeds of missions were planted in my heart as evidenced above.

Though I prayed to receive Christ in February 1941, I was not baptized until July 8, 1945, more than four years later. I believe my dad wanted me to understand what I was doing as a believer in Christ. If in fact that was his desire, his prayers were answered. I was baptized in the Perkiomen River by the Loux Bridge near Graterford where many of our church baptisms took place. But on this occasion I was the only one baptized. In just over three months we moved from Graterford to Newark, New Jersey.