Over in the land of Scotland, a mother of an afflicted little child felt a longing in her heart to come to America, and especially to Portland, Oregon. The little child had tuberculosis of the glands of her neck and lay in a dying condition. Nine physicians had failed to bring about a cure.

The father, the late Rev. John B. Clasper, was a deacon in a Presbyterian church, though he knew nothing of the born-again experience. The mother, when a young girl, worked in a dynamite factory where she witnessed many tragedies; and realizing her need of God, was saved at an early age. When she spoke of her desire to come to America, her husband was much displeased; and her family told her that she would bury her little girl at sea if she came. But she said to her husband: “I will die a disappointed woman unless you take me to America.” God brought them safely over the waters, and to the city of Portland, a distance of over 7000 miles, the husband coming first, and the wife and children six months later.

After their arrival, they tried the best specialist in the city, but he, too, failed to bring healing to the little girl. Two years later God led her to the door of a little woman who said, “If you had only known to come to The Apostolic Faith on Front and Burnside Streets, God would have healed your child.” Mrs. Clasper made her way to the meetings; and at the very first service she heard the truth on divine healing. She promised God that she would never give her little daughter another drop of medicine but would put her case in His hands. From that day on, the child began to improve and was perfectly healed. Today she has a happy home of her own, is a grandmother and has enjoyed a healthy Christian life.

Mr. Clasper first heard testimonies given by The Apostolic Faith people at an outdoor street-meeting. He thought the old-time religion was all right for the drunkard, the down-and-outer, who needed deliverance; but he justified himself, even though he knew he was a sinner, saying, “I am a deacon and I don’t need it.”

To please his wife, he attended the services, wearing his Christian Endeavor badge and other badges. When the minister arose he preached about hypocrites and about people wearing tags to indicate their Christianity. It seemed to him that the preacher pointed his finger right at him when he said, “You hypocrite.” He nudged his wife, saying, “You have told these people something about me.” She had not. It was God dealing with him. He vowed he would never go there again. But everywhere he went, he could hear those words: “You hypocrite.” One day, he dropped on his knees before his fellow workmen at the workbench, and mightily called on God. The Lord saved his soul and changed his life. The first place he wanted to go was to Front and Burnside, where a meeting was being held. There he met his wife and told her of his conversion. She told him that he would have to prove himself; and he did.

This converted deacon became one of the assisting ministers at the Portland headquarters and enthusiastically preached the old-time religion for over forty years. Both he and his wife helped in the office and printing work, visited and prayed for the sick, and in their later years were called Home to a glorious reward.