There was a certain rich man in London whose business flourished. He used to get hold of his bank book and checks, then scratched his head -- he didn't know what to do. Walking about his great building he came to a boy keeping the door. He found the boy whistling. . . Back to business he went but he could get no peace. His bank could not help him; his checks, his success could not help him. He had an aching void. He was helpless within. . .
When he could get no rest he exclaimed, "I will go and see what the boy is doing." Again he went and found him, whistling. "I want you to come into my office," he said. On entering the office he said, "Tell me, what makes you so happy and cheerful?" "Oh," replied the boy, "I used to be so miserable until I went to a little Mission and heard about Jesus. Then I was saved and filled with the Holy Ghost. It is always whistling inside: if it is not whistling, it sings. I am just full!" -- Smith Wigglesworth
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