On one of my trips I had to change trains at Grand Forks, and having a little time to spare I walked down a certain street of the city and met Brother John Sonden who was standing outside of a doctor's office. He was surprised to see me, but I explained that I was just passing through in making my train connections. He said he was waiting for his son, Brent, who was up in the office consulting the doctor about his health. He wished so much that I could talk to the boy. At his request I went and met him as he was coming out of the consulting room.

He informed me that the doctor had told him he had heart trouble, but as he did not know what kind, he wanted him to go to the hospital for a week when he thought he would be able to locate the ailment. After hearing what he had to say, I said to him, "I'll tell you what your trouble is and how you feel when you are sitting on the gang plow, plowing: You feel you are going to fall off in front of the plow and get killed and that makes you nervous and sick." He said, "Yes sir, that is exactly how I feel." I then said to him, "I can tell you the cure for it: Go home, and falling on your knees, confess your sins to God and call on Him. for salvation. I will be agreed in prayer and I guarantee you will be well—and now, goodbye, Brent, I must run to catch my train."

A year later when driving past his farm with Brother Holman, I saw a man out in the field and asked Brother Holman whether that was Brent Sonden. He said it was, and out of the car I got and ran over to him in the field saying, "Praise the Lord, Brent—did you follow the advice I gave you a year ago?" He answered, "Yes, and I have never had that feeling again since the Lord saved me."

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At one time I went to Hereford, Minnesota to preach for Brother George Green while he went on a trip to Iowa. At the Sunday morning service I learned that Elder Larson had met with an automobile accident the night before, breaking his left arm in two places and had been taken to the hospital at Barrett. His father phoned me that he would call for me and take me with him to the hospital.

On our arrival there, we found three doctors on the spot ready to amputate the arm—they were to take it off between the shoulder and the elbow. But I protested, saying, "That arm is not going to be amputated; those bones have to be set; for if you take the arm off you can never put it back again." But the doctors objected, "That is all we can do." I replied, "If Doctor Phelon of Paynesville had been at home I would have called for him to come and he would have fixed those bones in a jiffy." They replied, "We know him and he is no better than we are."

They turned to the father and said, "Are you going to listen to us or to this old foggy preacher?" "Well," he answered, "The old minister knows something too." At this, two of the doctors picked up their instruments and left. The one remaining said to me, "What are you going to do?" I said, "I am going to Hereford to preach tonight, after which I'll come back and take the young man with me on the train to Minneapolis." "But," he said, "gangrene may set in." I told him that I would pray God Almighty to keep that away. Then he asked me whether I was going alone with the boy, and I told him I was. He said that I was a brave man, but I answered, "No, it is not that I am brave, but that young man would give anything to have his two arms." Then the doctor said, "How would it be if I were to go with you?" I told him that it would be fine. When we were on the train he asked me where I was going to take the young man when we got to Minneapolis. I told him I hadn't thought of that, but in a city of 500,000 people there must be a doctor capable of setting bones. If not, I said, "I'll do it myself." "All right," replied the doctor, "We'll take him to the Fairview Hospital; I know a doctor there who is good at setting bones. His name is Seversen." And this we decided to do.

It was early when we arrived in the city, so we first had breakfast, after which I was introduced to Dr. Seversen. I said to him, "So you are the doctor who is going to set the bones in that arm?" But he said, "It can't be done; the arm will have to be amputated." I said, "That suggestion has been made to me before, and that arm is not going to come off." While we were talking several other doctors had come in—some thirteen or fourteen in all. They said. "We will show you the Xray pictures"—hoping to convince me that I was wrong. But I answered, "Xray pictures or no Xray pictures, that arm is not going to be amputated." However, they protested and argued that gangrene would set in—if it had not already done so. I said, "I will ask God Almighty to not let that happen." Then turning to the doctors, I said, "Shame on you doctors; if you cannot do it, I can, only I have no license…." And to Dr. Seversen I said, "Will you do it? Tell me quick, for if you will not, I will take him away from here." The doctor replied, "I will."

I said to Dr. Seversen, "I would like to go along with you to see whether you know how to do it." Eight doctors were also present. While the doctor was drilling a hole in the protruding bone, red blood spurted out of it, and I said, "Praise the Lord!" One of the doctors standing by said, "How do you know fhat that looks good?" I made no reply, but looked at him with a grin.

During his stay in the hospital I visited the young man from time to time. One day I asked the doctor how he was getting along with Elder, and he answered, "Getting along good only the sore doesn't quit running as rapidly as I would like to have it." Then I ventured, "Have you looked at his back?" He asked, "Tuberculosis of the spine?" I replied, "You had better look."