..... and here she come with both legs just as normal as she could be, her hands up in the air, glorifying God

10 Never forget that night, a little Finnish girl…I… They took me into the dormitory, and such as it was. And I didn't know the little thing. And her picture's in the book back there. So she'd had one leg about four or five inches shorter than the other one. She had a big shoe built up beneath it. She had a brace around her here, and a strap in the end of her bad foot went across her shoulder, and she had two crutches. And she'd just come out of the ladies' rest room when I was going through, and these little Finnish soldiers coming in. I was remarking, trying to talk to them, pointing my finger to them Russians there, how they were respecting Deity. And so when we got inside, this little woman, little girl, come out of the ladies' rest room. They'd been saying, "Don't nobody touch." I like kids, and I'd get all of them of an afternoon when the brethren was holding the meetings, and they'd all get in. I'd get some of that Finnish money and get out there. I had a drove of kids all the way up and down the street, buying them candy. I—I like kids.

11 And so this little girl had stepped out… She thought she'd done wrong, she stepped out to where I was, and she stopped. And she held her head down, a little ragged looking hair, and her little skirts ragged. I learned later that she was a little Finnish orphan. She had no father or mother, and so… They'd been killed in the war. And when she seen me, I was going in this way, and she was standing on that side, and she ducked her little head down. And I stopped. The two soldiers behind me motioned on, and they was already singing, "Only Believe." But I just waited. I knowed that kid wanted something. And she looked over to me again, raised up her little face and looked. I couldn't speak her language, so I motioned my finger to her. She come over there where I was at. When she started… The way she'd have to walk, she'd set these two crutches out, take her little shoulder and raise up that foot and set it out like that, then walk; then raise her little shoulder up and set that crippled foot out. I thought I'd just watch that child. It's amazing to watch children. And I watched her, and she kept getting closer, closer, closer.

12 I just stood still, and them soldiers just turned around to watch. And when she got real close to me, she stopped. She looked at me, and she took her little hand and reached down, picked up my coat, kissed the pocket of my coat, let it down. I just watched her. She looked up, and the tears standing in her little eyes. And she took her little crutches, and held herself, and pulled her little skirt out (which is very Finnish), said, "Kiitos." That means, "Thank you." I looked at her, and I thought, "If I'd be the biggest hypocrite in the world, God would answer that child's faith." I started to turn. I seen her going then in a vision walking away from me, normal. I turned around. I said, "Sweetheart," and she kept saying, "Kiitos." She couldn't hear a word I was saying. I said, "Honey, Jesus Christ makes you well." She said, "Kiitos, kiitos," and they kept pushing me. I said, "Well, someday she'll find it out."

13 After I'd had a great big, long prayer line, crutches and things piled everywhere, the Lord revealing to the people and calling them out through the audience, my brother said, "You've had enough now. We've got to preach again tomorrow." So he come to get me, and I said, "Just call just a few more cards." And when he did, the next one on the platform was that little girl. She had—she had her crutches. I said to Mrs. Isaacson (and she may be setting here today), I said, "Mrs. Isaacson, just say what I say." I said, "Honey, out there in the hall Jesus made you well. Have some of the ministers take that brace off of you. Watch what happens." And when they went over there to take it off, I prayed for about another person, and here she come with both legs just as normal as she could be, her hands up in the air, glorifying God. Far as I know, the little thing lives in Finland today, because…

 62-0722 - "Show Us The Father And It Will Suffice Us" Rev. William Marrion Branham