Country Bumpkin in the City
Dwight L. Moody
Dwight was a rough and tumble boy who left his farm home at seventeen to work in his uncle's shoe store in Boston. One of his uncle Samuel's requirements was "Sunday school and church every Sunday."
His Sunday school class was well sprinkled with Harvard boys. Dwight, who could neither spell nor read well, called the other members of the class, "those rich and pious parishioners."
Reluctantly, the young shoe salesman enrolled. Then one day his teacher, Edward Kimball, brought a lesson on Moses. The country bumpkin listened entranced. When Mr. Kimball finished, Dwight spoke up in his customary brusque manner, "That Moses was what you'd call a pretty smart man."
The Harvard boys covered their faces but could not choke back their snickers.
A few Sundays later, Mr. Kimball handed Dwight a Bible as he announced the lesson from John. Dwight took the book in his big, thick hands and began fumbling in Genesis. The teacher saw out of the corner of his eyes that the others were smirking and punching one another. Quickly he frowned at them and passed Dwight his Bible opened at the proper place.
Dwight did not forget the embarrassment. He vowed,
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"If I ever get out of this scrape, I'll never be caught there again."
The next Sunday he was absent. The teacher went after him and begged him to return. Dwight was persuaded and promised to begin reading two chapters a day to avoid future embarrassment.
During the worship service, he usually sat in the gallery. One morning when he dropped off to sleep, a young Harvard man gave him a solid jab with his elbow. Dwight awoke, rubbed his eyes, and looked down at the minister. Perspiration beaded out all over him and he said later, "I never felt so cheap in my life."
After a year of bumbling and embarrassment, Dwight was getting better in his reading. On April 21, 1855, Edward Kimball felt the time had arrived to talk to his country pupil about Christ.
The teacher, quite timid himself, arrived at the shoe store, hesitated at the door, then walked away with a second thought that it might be better to wait.
He was half a block down the street when he overcame his reluctance. He dashed back up the street and burst into the store. Dwight was in the rear, wrapping up shoes.
Edward Kimball leaned over and put his foot on a shoe box. With his hand on Dwight's shoulder he began as best he could. "I want to tell you how much Christ loves you."
A few moments later, the boy, who was the best salesman in the store, had melted. The time was ripe. Unknown to his teacher, he had been trying to become a better person. He had even gone so far as to sign his resolution in his own blood.
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When Kimball asked if he would surrender to Christ, Dwight mumbled a tearful but happy yes.
Later Dwight told about how he felt. "I was in a new world. The birds sang sweeter. The sun shone brighter. I'd never known such peace."
As soon as possible he made a visit to his Northfield, Massachusetts, farm home. There he eagerly gave his Christian testimony, feeling sure that his six brothers and two sisters would immediately want what he had. But they did not respond, and he returned to Boston discouraged.
More discouragement came when he applied to join the Mount Vernon Church. The membership committee decided he should wait. They were not sure he had really been converted.
But even this did not quench young Dwight's zeal. When he spoke up eagerly at the midweek prayer meeting, a deacon took him aside to advise, "You can serve the Lord better by keeping still." He was finally admitted to church membership about a year later.
Dwight Moody moved west to Chicago and made a small fortune selling shoes on Lake Street. He spent his weekends ferreting out slum district youths for a Sunday school he had started on Chicago's north side. He became such a success in his missionary endeavors that he left the business world to serve the Lord vocationally as a Christian worker.
Over fifty years after his death, the Chicago Tribune honored the former country boy from Massachusetts with the editorial comment: "Dwight L. Moody deserves to be remembered as the greatest evangelist of the nineteenth century."
