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knew was that I was in His hands and obeying all He told me to do, step by step, moment by
moment.
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16
THREATENED WITH A BUTCHER'S CLEAVER
One morning as I was meditating, I felt led to go to South St. Louis and visit among the
Jewish people door to door, store to store, just however the Holy Spirit might lead me. I went into
a butcher shop that I had entered several times before and where I had often talked to Rachel, the
daughter of the owner. This time when I entered I could see that Rachel had been doing some
thinking.
She asked me, "How can I know I am born again?"
I did not know there was anybody else in the store, but about that time I heard a little noise
behind the butcher's counter and saw the top of a man's head. The next thing I knew, the man came
out from behind the counter, very angry and with a cleaver in his hand.
He approached me and ordered, "You get out of here! You're in here to proselyte. You're
trying to convert my Rachel. Get out!" He was shaking with rage. He advanced still closer, raised
the cleaver, and yelled, "If you don't get out, I'm going to kill you!"
I was simply rooted to the spot. I do not want any credit for not running. I could not have
run. I was frozen with fear, for the cleaver he was holding over my head looked as though it were
about ten feet long. Of course, it was really just an ordinary sized butcher's cleaver.
Then he realized he had made a threat against my life, which he should not have done. He
laid down his cleaver. "Now look," he threatened, "if you don't get out of here, I'm going to call
that policeman on the corner and have you arrested. This is a private place. This is my own
butcher shop, and you're not coming in here to try to convert my daughter. Get out!"
It was summertime. The door was open to the streets, and he had raised his voice to such a
high pitch that people had gathered on the sidewalks. My back was to the crowd. I could hear some
of them say, "Tell it to her, Sam. Give it to her, Sam. Put her out of there, Sam."
But among them I heard one voice say, "Praise the Lord, Sister! Preach it, Sister, preach it!
Praise the Lord!" and I knew that voice came from a Negro man. I thanked God I had company.
God said, "One shall put a thousand to flight, and two shall put ten thousand to flight."
The Jewish butcher, feeling rather ashamed of himself by this time, lowered his voice and
said, "Now if you don't get out of here, I'm going to throw you out with my two hands."
I still stood there. I could not turn and run. I am glad God did not let me.