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I did not tell her about the gas tank being almost empty. I did not tell her that we had not
had lunch. I did not tell her how flat my pocketbook was. We could not refuse this kind invitation,
so we sat down to eat.
While we were eating the telephone rang. She answered it and I heard her say, "Well, that's
too bad. I think I can help you out though. I have someone right here at my table." She turned to me
and said, "Irene, the W.C.I.U. is meeting down at the Goodwill Center tonight and their speaker
can't come. Would you speak for them? Then you can go home after that."
"Yes," I assented, "I'll speak to them." I did not dare turn down anything. "I'll tell my
husband we'll be late getting back."
That night, then, I spoke to the W.C.I.U. never had before; I never have since. All I could
talk about to this W.C.I.U. gathering was the Jews and their need of Christ. They took up a little
offering. It amounted to about three dollars. Praise the Lord! We bought enough gas to get home
that night and we did not have to go home hungry. This is how wonderfully God does undertake.
He protects us and takes care of us when we obey Him.
I had the privilege of going back to West Frankfort some time later. When I had finished
speaking at an afternoon women's meeting, several Jewish women were waiting for me outside.
They asked if I would come and speak at their synagogue in a nearby city. I was surprised. Speak
in their synagogue? I knew a few of their members scattered throughout southern Illinois who at
various times had asked me to come, but the rabbi had said that only over his dead body would I
ever come. So I wondered. Speak in their synagogue?
One of the women said, "Come to our store. I want you to speak to my husband. He's
president of the synagogue."
We went to their store. Sure enough, they wanted me to come and speak at their Friday
night service -- their regular Sabbath evening service.
"But," I said hesitantly, "where's your rabbi?"
"O," they said, "He's gone to Florida for a few weeks." Evidently, while the cat was away
the mice were going to play.
I had prayed and fasted much for the services of the evening. I was scheduled to speak at
another place before going to the synagogue and I announced there that I would be speaking at the
synagogue later. Several carloads went along with me. In the group was a lady who could sing
quite well. I asked the president of the synagogue if she could sing before I spoke.
"Sure," he said, "that will be fine, but please try to be through in an hour, because our
people have come after closing their businesses and have a long way to drive to get home."
I was introduced, and then I introduced my singer. She sang beautifully, "I've Been
Redeemed, But Not With Silver." It seemed as though her face was just radiating the glory of God.