He looked at me in a queer way, as much as to say, “I do not think you know that I have given up the truth, that I have allowed my girls to go to dances, and to the Sunday school, that we do not keep the Sabbath.” But I did know it. However, I talked to him just as though he were with us. “Now,” I said, “we are going to help you to begin to work for your neighbors. I want to make you a present of some books.” He said, “We have a library, from which we draw books.” I said, “I do not see any books here. Perhaps you feel delicate about drawing from the library. I have come to give you these books, so that your children can read them, and this will be a strength to you.” I knelt down and prayed with him, and when we rose, the tears were rolling down his face, as he said, “I am glad that you came to see me. I thank you for the books.” {Ev 451.2}

Han så på mig på en underlig måde, som han ville sige: ”Jeg tror ikke at du ved at jeg har givet afkald på sandheden, da jeg har lavet mine piger gå til dans, og til søndagsskole, da vi ikke holder sabbat.” Men jeg vidste det. Jeg talte blot til ham som om han var med os. ”Nuvel” sagde jeg, ”vi skal hjælpe dig med at begynde at arbejde for dine naboer. Jeg ønsker at du skal give dem nogle bøger.” Han sagde: ”Vi har et bibliotek hvorfra vi (452) får bøger.” Jeg sagde: ”Jeg ser ikke nogen bøger her. Måske er du for kræsen til at få bøger fra biblioteket. Jeg er kommet for at give dig disse bøger, så at dine børn kan læse dem, og dette vil være en styrke for dig.” Jeg knælede ned og bad med ham, og da vi rejste os op, rullede tårerne ned fra hans ansigt, idet han sagde: ”Jeg er så glad for at du kom til mig. Jeg takker dig for bøgerne.”