As a young girl, I went to Sunday School and learned about Jesus. Although I knew about my Savior and what He had done to save me, yet I never accepted Him as my own Redeemer and Friend.
As years went by, I went into sin and shared in the common sins of worldly people. I knew better than to do the things I did, but sin is a miry clay pulling its victims down deeper and deeper. For ten years I never entered a church house except to attend my father's funeral. I saw him go into eternity without being able to point him to the "Lamb of God which taketh away the sin of the world."
During these years I had married and God had given us a dear little boy. Donald began to attend Sunday School early in years. Often on Sunday mornings he would get ready for Sunday School after a sleepless night. Wild parties were a part of the ungodly life we lived in our home. Sometimes I took him to the church house door and there he would beg me to come in and meet the Christian people who, he said, would be so glad to see me.
Donald learned much of the Scriptures. He would pray and ask God's blessings at the table. In Aug.1932 we were living in Minneapolis. One evening in particular I shall not forget. I was in an apartment below the one in which we lived, partaking in a drunken party. Donald was then 12 years old. He suffered over my sins and came to the door to call me. I promised him to come up soon, but I continued on for some hours with the drunken crowd. When I did come up to our apartment I found Donald on his knees by his bed with his Testament and an old hymn book of my mother-in-law's. The books were open on the bed. He looked up through his tears and said, "Mother, I am praying for you." I looked at the Testament and hymnal which were wet with tears that he had shed for his ungodly mother. On September 15th, following this experience I went to a mission. That night a group of Christians united in asking God for my soul. When the song, "Lord, I'm coming home," was sung after the service I made my way to the altar. While kneeling there I felt someone very close to my side. It was Donald who was praying for his mother. God heard my prayer to be saved. He was merciful and washed away my sins. Psalm 51 has become precious to me.
God saved me for service. I marvel at his grace and mercy toward me. I cannot cease to thank Him for picking me up out of the miry clay. I am thankful also for my little boy who never ceased to pray for his mother. Now, my life is in God's hands. I want to help others find the Savior. I am especially burdened for others in the bondage of sin as I was. But even more than that, I am burdened for children who have no opportunity of knowing Jesus as their personal Savior.