I am an Indian. I lived beyond Turtle Mountain. I knew that I and my people were perishing. We had no hope. I never looked into the face of my child without my heart being sick with fear for him. My father and the old chiefs told me there was a Great Spirit. Believing them, I have often gone to the deep woods and cried to him for help. For answer, I only got the sound of my own voice.
Do you know what I mean? Have you ever stood in the dark and reached out your hand and took hold of nothing?
One day an Indian came to my house. He told me he had heard a great revelation at Red Lake. He had heard that the Great Spirit had a Son, a beloved only Son, and that He had come to earth to help and to save those who needed Him.
Then I said, “I must see the man who told this.”
I came 350 miles and I heard the sweet story of Jesus. I have the story in my heart. Now, wherever I am, I can reach out my hand. Jesus is there. My heart is no longer dark and sad. It laughs all the time!