For more than a year a little old cleaning woman, who lived on the wrong side of the tracks, had been trying to join a fashionable downtown church. The pastor was not eager to have a seedy looking person in faded, out-of-style clothes sitting in a pew next to his rich members. When she called for the fifth time to discuss membership, he put her off for the fifth time.

“I tell you what,” said the pastor, “you just go home tonight and have a talk with God about it. Later you can tell me what He said.”

The poor woman went her way. Weeks moved into months, and the preacher saw no more of her and his conscience did hurt a little. Then one day he encountered her scrubbing floors in an office building, and felt impelled to inquire, “did you have your little talk with God, Mrs. Washington?” he asked.

“Oh, my yes,” she said, “I talked with God as you suggested.”

“Ah, and what answer did He give you?” asked the pastor.

“Well, Preacher,” she said as she pushed back a wisp of stringy hair with a sudsy hand, “God said for me not to get discouraged, but to keep trying. He said that He Himself had been trying to get into your church for 20 years, with no more success than I have had.”

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