How He Learned To Pray

     One evening not long ago two gentlemen walking down the street came to a small group of gospel workers praying. As they paused for a moment on the edge of the crowd, one of them removed his hat, and bowed his head. Later in the evening, when asked why he had done so, he told the following story:— 

    “Late one fall about fifteen years ago, I was with a hunting and fishing party up in northern California. The hunting was good; and so one afternoon when all the rest were off fishing, I took my rifle, and went out in search of game. I had gone several miles over a rough country, when a light snow began to fall. ‘About time I was making for camp,’ I said to myself, and started to retrace my steps. But as it grew darker, the snow thickened, and I lost my way.

      “It was growing bitterly cold; and though I looked everywhere for shelter, I could find none. The night was intensely dark, and the snow was blinding. I knew that if I stayed where I was, I should certainly freeze to death. There wasn’t a living soul within five miles, and the trees on the mountain afforded no shelter.  

     “Well, my mother had taught me to pray; and I got down there in the snow, and, for the first time in years, told God all about it, and  solemnly promised that if He would lead me to safety, I would be a better man.  

     “When I got up, I felt impelled to go ahead. I didn’t know which way I as going, but I just went on, perhaps a hundred yards, when splash! Down went my foot in a pool of water. ‘Worse luck yet,’ I thought; ‘that may mean a frozen foot.’ But as the water soaked through my shoe I found it was warm. I knew then that I had chanced across a hot spring. Losing little time, for I was becoming chilled, I found a place where the water was deep enough to cover me, and sat down in it. All that night I sat there, thanking God for the way he had saved my life. In the morning the rest of the party found me, and brought me dry clothes.  

     “Ever since then I have been a firm believer in the power of prayer; and whenever I come where people are praying, I am impelled to bow my head in reverence to the power there represented.”  

Edison J. Driver

  The Youth’s Instructor, June 28, 1900.