These two incidents remind me, by way of contrast, of the story of another banker and of the way he dealt with a poor man who was in debt to him. When not prepared to meet the payments on his note the poor man would ask for an extension of time. Finally the banker became impatient and refused to grant any further time extension. The poor man begged for mercy--that he would allow him more time. "All right," said the banker, "I have a glass eye; it is such a good one that people cannot tell which one it is; if you can tell which one, I will extend the loan." Looking carefully at the eyes the man said, "It is the left one." "Yes," said the other, "how could you tell?" The man said, "I could tell that eye was more sympathetic than the good one." It is said of Jesus that he "learned obedience through the things that he suffered"--and so with us, we learn how to have sympathy according to how we suffer. * * * * * My first experience of being healed of cancer of the stomach was while I was in Grand Forks in 1922 after that Doctor Weatherstein had examined me and said there was nothing that could be done for me. I was taken to the Werstlein's home where I was staying, and Brother Shave, Sister Gaulke and Sister Johnstone were sent for. They came, and when they saw me as I lay on the lounge, they fell on their knees weeping and calling on God. All at once they arose, and with Sister Werstlein, laid their hands on me and rebuked the devil and the cancer, and I was instantly healed! In the fall of 1936 I had a number of calls to go to the West Coast, but I did not feel that I could leave unless wife had someone to stay with her. However, she insisted that I should go, saying she was able to take care of herself, but I hesitated about going so far away and applied for a job as an automobile adjuster paying $50 a week and commission. I had everything signed up on Friday, and I was to go to work the following Tuesday. On Sunday the cancer returned again for the third time--the blood running from me and I was very sick. Wife said--not in an unkind way--"Good enough for you." I said, "I know what you are going to say." "Yes," she went on, "but I will check up on you. Do you remember what Brother Dorrity said to you when you were ordained? 'This is not for a day, nor for a week, nor for a month or a year, but for your lifetime,' and you are not dead yet!" To which I replied, suffering and weeping, "All right, you come and pray for me." She came and prayed and I was instantly healed. Needless to say, I did not take the job. This took place the Sunday before Thanksgiving. On Thanksgiving day we were to go by invitation to Willmar to dinner and in the evening we were to attend service and I was to preach. That was the last automobile trip my wife ever took with me.