Just Tell Jesus!” Rosalind Goforth
The most precious recollections of early childhood are associated with stories told us by my mother, many of which illustrated the power of prayer.
One that made a specially deep impression upon me was about our grandfather, who as a little boy went to visit cousins in the south of England, their home being situated close to a dense forest. One day the children, lured by the beautiful wild flowers, became hopelessly lost in the woods. After trying in vain to find a way out, the eldest, a young girl, called the frightened, crying little ones around her and said: “When mother died, she told us to always tell Jesus if we were in any trouble. Let us kneel down, and ask him to take us home.”
They knelt, and as she prayed one of the little ones opened his eyes, to find a bird so close to his hand that he reached out for it. The bird hopped away, but kept so close to the child as to lead him on. Soon all were joining in the chase after the bird, which flew or hopped in front or just above, and sometimes on the ground almost within reach. Then suddenly it flew into the air and away. The children looked up to find themselves on the edge of the woods and in sight of home.
With such influences bearing upon one at an impressionable age, it is not surprising that I came even as a very little child to just “tell Jesus” when in trouble.
Through the mists of my memory, an incident comes out clearly, which occurred when I was six or seven years of age. While playing one day in the garden, I was seized with what we then called “jumping” toothache. I ran to my mother for comfort, but nothing she could do seemed to ease the pain.
The nerve must have become exposed, for the pain was acute. Suddenly I thought, “Jesus can help me,” and just as I was, with my face pressed against my mother’s breast, I said in my heart:
“Lord Jesus, if you will take away this toothache right now, now, I will be your little girl for three years.”
Before the prayer was well uttered the pain was entirely gone. I believed that Jesus had taken it away; and the result was that for years, when tempted to be naughty, I was afraid to do what I knew was wrong lest, if I broke my side of what I felt to be a compact, the toothache would return. This little incident had a real influence over my early life, gave me a constant sense of the reality of a divine presence, and so helped to prepare me for the public confession of Christ as my Saviour a few years later, at the age of eleven.
From “How I Know God Answers Prayer” by Rosalind Goforth