Wanda was my only daughter. At 11, she had something happen to her body. She could not feed herself, nor direct her arms into the armholes of her dress, nor could she get her feet to go in the direction she wanted them to. A specialist in Shreveport diagnosed her with St. Vitus’ dance. The doctor had said that Wanda would have to stay in bed for a year; her feet were not to touch the floor. At this time, Bro Brannum was holding a revival in Shreveport. Ruth Cain Manning took Wanda to the revival for Bro. Brannum to pray for her. The healing line closed just before he got to Wanda, but Ruth managed to get him to pray for her anyway. He took them to a room and greatly encouraged their faith. He prayed for Wanda and told her that in three days she would be all right! The Lord kept his word and she never had to go back to bed to stay. Note: St. Vitus’ dance is described in Dorland’s Medical Dictionary as an acute, disorder of early life, usually between the ages of five and fifteen, and closely linked with rheumatic fever. It is characterized by involuntary movements that gradually become severe, affecting all motor activities including gait, arm movements and speech. By: Viola Mae Manning Williamson Note: We recently lost Sissy, and this article was obviously written prior to that loss. Her contributions to the newsletter were and are still being appreciated. We miss you Sissy. Those Feet This feature was presented at the memorial service for Lester “Dutch” Dupree, August 2001. We had mistakenly omitted it from the previous issue, but here it is: My dad was blessed to have the most loving and devoted wife possible. After he suffered a major stroke 22 years ago, she devoted her life to ministering to his personal and physical needs. During the years that my mother attended to my dad, much attention was given to his feet. She always wanted to make sure that they were warm. The term she used was “toasty”. If she found them cold, she went into action, gathering up warm blankets to put around them. You see those feet were important feet. Those feet carried my dad to the front lines of battle to defend the honor and freedom of his country. Those feet, under enemy gunpoint, walked down the hot dusty Philippine jungle road on the infamous Bataan Death March. As a child, I observed many times the abnormal appearance of those feet. They only had four complete toes. The others had been lost to frostbite as he languished in an enemy’s prison camp in a faraway land. In due time, those feet victoriously brought my dad back home to America. Perhaps the casual observer did not notice, but his balance was shaky because of all that those feet had suffered. On those feet my dad courted my mother and they took him to the altar of holy matrimony where they became husband and wife. Eventually those feet led him to an altar of prayer where he repented of his sins as he called upon the name of Jesus. Those feet took him to the baptismal waters where he was buried with Christ in water baptism in Jesus Name. Since that day, those feet have walked with his Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ. Those feet led me, as a young boy, to a prayer room where I became acquainted with his God. With the passage of time, those feet became slower and slower. In the past year, they lost all ability to walk. My sister Margaret, recently made the statement, “My dad will walk again. It may not be in this life, but he will walk again over there.” Amazingly the last thing that Mother checked before my dad passed from this world was his feet. About one in the morning she awoke, checked his feet and found them to be okay. Three hours later, the nurse awoke her to tell her he had slipped away. But because of the confidence that we have in the shed blood of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, we have faith that on the great getting-up morning, those feet will walk again. Those feet will take him this time to the throne of the King of Kings and Lord of Lords and will forever walk in His eternal presence. Those feet served his country. Those feet served his family. Those feet served his God. I cannot, I will not forget those feet. By: Nathan E. Dupree |