My Earliest Recollection

My earliest recollection is of living in a little cul-de-sac under Park Street in the center of the city. In England in the winter time, it gets dark about 3:00 in the afternoon and sometimes on stormy days it is dark all day long. One afternoon about five o'clock, I was playing  in the street and a drizzly rain was falling. I happened to look toward the underpass and in the semidarkness I saw a dark, hooded figure coming toward me. I thought of the terrifying stories of bogey men I had heard and I fled toward the house in a panic. Mother was slow to open the door upon which I was frantically beating with my fists. When at last she opened it, I fell in almost faint with fear. This neighborhood was very rough. People used to get drunk and fight in the streets.

There was an old cathedral close by (Bristol Cathedral), built about the ninth century. The bells were tolled every night. I used to lie in bed and listen to their mournful sound and I felt so sad and afraid. I was afraid of the dark, of people, of thunder and lightning. In fact, I was afraid of everything.

One evening Mother and Dad were going out so they had my sister, Annie, take me with her to a Christian Endeavor class. This was an auxiliary of the Church of England. Annie used to attend this class once a week. I remember sitting in a room with quite a number of older children. The teacher was a sweet, gentle lady with a soft voice. She took me upon her lap while she told the story of the Good Shepherd, who left the ninety and nine to search for the sheep that was lost. She said that the Good Shepherd was Jesus Christ and that he really cared for us and if we ever felt lost or lonely we could pray to Him and He would hear us. She spoke with such a quiet conviction that I believed her and the seed of faith was planted in my childish heart that night that has continued to grow through the years.