It was a lively night in the revival tent, and Reverend Johnson was gripped with the power of the Spirit.
"I tell you all, the Lord is with us tonight! I can feel His power running through me! There's gonna be a healing tonight! Who needs healing?! Stand up, and tell the audience your name!"
A stooped old woman slowly struggled to her feet with the assistance of her crutches. "Reverend, my name is Mrs. Smith, and I have always had to use these crutches to walk."
"Well, sister, come on up here, and feel the healing power of the Lord!"
As she slowly made her way to the stage, a young man stood up. "Reverend, my name ith Mithter Joneth, and I have alwaith thpoken with a lithp."
"Well, Mr. Jones, come up to the stage and stand next to Mrs. Smith!"
"Now, Mrs. Smith," said the preacher, putting his hands on her head, "feel the *power* of the Lord!" The preacher quivered for a moment, then said, "Now, Mrs. Smith, go behind that screen and pray to the Lord, and you shall be healed!" Mrs. Smith painfully walked behind the screen with on her crutches.
"Mr. Jones, feel the power of the Lord," said the preacher, again placing his hands on the head of the subject. After quivering even more than the first time, he said, "Mister Jones, go behind that screen and pray with Mrs. Smith!"
There was a soft murmur from the crowd as the minutes slowly ticked by, the preacher alternately gazing up to the sky, wringing his hands, and pacing back and forth in a near frenzy. Finally, he spoke.
"Mrs. Smith! I want you to throw your left crutch over the screen!" The audience gasped as the left crutch sailed over the screen and clattered on the stage.
"Now, Mrs. Smith, I want you to throw your right crutch over the screen!" The audience cheered loudly as the right crutch came flying over the screen.
"Now, Mr. Jones, say something in a loud, clear voice so everyone can hear you!"
"MITTITH SMITH JUTH FELL ON HER ATH!"