to hear, if it was His will He would heal her. This was the night
of June 16th, 1884.

In the morning Miss Jordan was so hopeful that she rose early, and
attentively listened to the movements in her mother's room. She called
the little family's attention to them, saying, "Just listen to her;" and
as, holding on by the banister, the aged mother came with her accustomed
slow movements down to the dining room, Miss Jordan said, to them, "Now,
watch her."

According to the long habit of eight years, she began to reach out for
her cane, unconscious that she had been walking around her room with new
freedom. Miss Jordan went toward her and said, "Mother, do you want your
cane?" and, wondering, the old lady walked freely into the dining room.
They gathered around her, and said, "Are you not healed, mother?" and
she began to think _she was_, and sat down in her chair by the table.
Could she move her hand? The doubled-up thumb, and straight, stiff
finger, were _perfectly free_ and as _limber as ever_, and the stiff
wrist joint _moved with perfect freedom!_ She _heard as well as
anybody!_ Could she see? She went up-stairs to her Bible, whose blurred,
dim pages she had thought closed to her forever, and _she could read as
well as ever_, and without glasses! She could thread the finest needle.
Could she kneel and thank the Lord? She had not knelt for eight years.
Yes, she could kneel as well as when she served the Lord in her youth!

Christian reader, stop here and think what a joyful family that was that
June morning. That aged saint, of a little more than 85 years, was in
good health again! And her two daughters had been snatched from the jaws
of death! What a triumph of blessed memories to leave in legacy to that
young, hopeful, Christian son, who, in childhood, had himself repeatedly
proved that the Lord hears and answers prayer!

Mrs. Jordan has never used cane or crutch since that morning. She has
frequently walked five blocks, to go to her church; and, a few weeks
after her healing, she one day walked the distance of about fifteen
blocks. She has walked for hours in Lincoln Park, among the plants and
flowers, and she goes up and down stairs, and wherever she likes, as
well as anyone.

She has the use of her faculties, and an altogether comfortable use of
her sight, though that is not so acute as at first. Her earliest joy was
that she was permitted to see that the Lord had some purpose in sparing
her so long.

Dear Ch