The room was filled with people and a meeting was in progress, during
which two men, old neighbors, whose lives I knew well, told the story of
their recent conversion. One was Skipper Andrew Woodbury, a man of
blameless life, but who had lived sixty-five years without religion. The
other was my uncle by marriage, twenty years my senior, a close personal
friend and familiarly called "Dave." I had been in the habit of spending
many of my Sundays with him, as he was a non-church goer, companionable,
genuine and open-hearted as the day. It was evident that he had found
something that he wanted to share with his friends, and while I made
light of it at the time, his testimony made a profound impression on me.
Toward the close of the meeting the leader gave the invitation to those
"who want to become Christians" to rise. No one stood up. Then he came
within closer range and invited those "who would like to become
Christians," but still no one responded. I was becoming interested and
was almost disappointed when no one answered to this second invitation.
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