In those days my parents were very poor.  Dad had gone  into 
        the business of testing cream for farmers, and was also running a 
        school  hack.   I  think perhaps their income for  the  week  ran 
        somewhere  between eight and twelve dollars.  But my father  came 
        home one day with the announcement:  "Mary, I just heard a sermon 
        on tithing." 
        
             She said, "What?"
        
             "I  just  heard a minister preach that we  are  supposed  to 
        tithe,"  Dad answered.
        
             She  asked, "What do you mean?", for her ministers  had  not 
        preached the giving of the tithe.  My parents had never heard  it 
        mentioned before.  Up until that time, Dad and Mother were giving 
        two  dollars  a year to the church and thought  they  were  doing 
        fairly well.
        
             "Why,"  Dad said, "they tell me that the Word of God teaches 
        to  give one-tenth of what you have to Jesus, to bring 
        your tithe into God's storehouse."
        
             "Why--Eldon!"
        
             "Yes,"  he  said,  "You know, I believe Jesus  wants  us  to 
        start tithing."
        
             "Eldon,"  Mother said, "you know it's been taking every cent 
        we  have to live; every penny to pay our rent and buy  groceries.  
        We  can barely manage to get the boys shoes when they need  them.  
        But,  if  God has revealed that we are to tithe, I  am  ready  to 
        begin."
        
             The first week they took their one dollar or so out and gave 
        it to the Lord, because it was already His.  The next week
                       
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        they  did the same thing.  It would vary each week  according  to 
        their  income.  And they began to marvel.  "We  can't  understand 
        how  nine-tenths  can go as far, or a little farther,  than  ten-
        tenths.   We  don't understand!"  They exclaimed about  the  fact 
        that  God  could  extend less money (and it was  truly  a  little 
        amount)  and  make it go so far.  Of course, they  were  trusting 
        with  the One who never loses a battle.  They were  trusting  the 
        One who could not fail.  We fail, but Jesus never does.
        
             They would kneel by their bed at night and pray, "Jesus, you 
        know we have very little business.  Lord, we are simply  trusting 
        you.   We just want to do your will."  They submitted  everything 
        into  the  hands of the Lord, and God began to  bless  them.   He 
        would  send a little money in here, and then a little  in  there.  
        My  parents  never ceased to be amazed how God honored  them  for 
        faithful tithing according to His Word.
        
             All was not obvious blessing, however.  Mother's  rheumatism 
        began  to return soon after I was born.  They tell me that  while 
        she would be holding me on her lap, she would appear so ill  that 
        they thought surely she had suffered a heart attack.  They didn't 
        know whether she was going to live or not.  But God was  merciful 
        and gracious to her.  In a little over two years, in spite of her 
        weak physical condition, she bore my brother, Richard.  I was  so 
        proud of him.  I can remember getting my Uncle Billy by the  hand 
        and taking him to the side of the bed where Richard lay beside my 
        mother.   I asked everyone to step aside, because I had  to  show 
        Uncle Billy my new baby brother.
        
             The  doctor said that it would be impossible for  Mother  to 
        ever  be able to have another child; but two years later,  Warren 
        was  born, weighing eleven pounds, three ounces:  the largest  of 
        all  her children at birth.  Twenty months later, then, my  third 
        brother, Terrance, came into the family.
        
             During  one of my mother's very severe attacks, when  I  was 
        yet a tiny fellow, my father earnestly promised the Lord, "If you 
        spare the life of my companion, I will go back to preach-
        
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        ing."  Of course, my folks had attended church regularly, and Dad 
        had filled in for several ministers from time to time.  But, soon 
        after  his conversion, when God was using him so  wonderfully  in 
        various  revivals,  certain religious people began to  oppose  my 
        father's religious views.  They said awful things to him, and  it 
        discouraged  him so badly it appeared as if he weren't  going  to 
        make  it through.  It was by the strength and assistance  of  the 
        Holy Spirit that he was able to continue his ministry after  such 
        severe opposition.  For nearly fourteen years my father had  been 
        striving to obey God and not become discouraged.
        
             It  was  before my third brother, Terrance,  was  born  that 
        three men from the small congregation of Carlos City came to  ask 
        Dad  to be their minister.  "Well,"  he said, "I just go out  and 
        preach.  I don't feel like I am capable of being a minister in  a 
        church."
        
             But  this  committee requested him to pray  about  it.   "We 
        will come back to see you again,"  they said.  Some time went by, 
        and they came again to see how Dad felt about their request,  but 
        he still was undecided.  He would go preach for one service,  but 
        he  couldn't feel certain about assuming the responsibilities  of 
        their pastorate.
        
             Mother was still bedfast following Terrance's birth when Dad 
        came in by her side.  He said, "Mary, these men have come back to 
        see  if  I will come to Carlos City to preach, and I  don't  know 
        what to tell them."
        
             Mother answered, "Well, this makes three times they've come.  
        I would think that if you want to preach, now is the time to go."
        
             Dad was reluctant, however, and insisted that he didn't have 
        clothes proper to go among strangers and preach.  He had a fairly 
        new  suit, but it had been torn in the back of the coat.   So  my 
        mother said to him, "Why Eldon, I know that I can fix that  coat, 
        and when it is pressed, no one will ever know it's been mended."
        
             Dad's mother was there also, and he said to her, "How
                            
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        will  I  get to church?  I don't have a machine.  All I  have  is 
        this truck."
        
             My  grandmother  replied,  "Eldon, I  believe  if  you  just 
        promise  God  you will go, when the time comes, you will  have  a 
        way.  I believe that."
        
             After  some conversation my father said, "Well, if  that  is 
        the way you feel, I will tell them I will come to preach."
        
             It  was not long after my parents had begun to  consistently 
        tithe,  and  only  a short while after my  parents  consented  to 
        assume preaching responsibilities at Carlos City, that a stranger 
        walked  in one day and said to my dad, "I want to sell  you  some 
        motor oil."  He, no doubt, mentioned a rather sizable quantity of 
        oil.   And, of course, my father didn't have enough money in  his 
        pocket  to buy one gallon of oil, let alone twenty-five  gallons, 
        or fifty gallons, or a quarter of a drum.  In all probability  he 
        just  laughed  and  laughed, because he was  quite  a  fellow  to 
        express himself in laughter, and he had a beautiful way of  doing 
        it.
        
             After they had talked quite a while the man said, "Mr. Helm, 
        I  didn't really come here to sell you some oil.  I came to  hire 
        you as my agent for the Standard Oil Refining Company at  $180.00 
        a month plus commission."
        
             My  father  replied, "You have just hired me,  Sir."   In  a 
        matter  of moments my parents' income jumped  from  approximately 
        fifty  dollars  a  month to $180.00 plus!  But,  you  see,  their 
        tithing made the way.  Their obedience opened the door--giving to 
        God, when they thought they didn't have enough to live on.   They 
        gave  their  tenth  back to God, and, in return,  God  gave  them 
        dividends in abundance.
        
             This  new  opportunity moved us to Parker City,  Indiana  in 
        September,  1922.   It brought us to the village where I  was  to 
        find  Christ Jesus as my Saviour, and where I was to discover  my 
        wife.   It  blesses  me as I think that  the  willingness  of  my 
        parents  to  give to God that which was His, started  us  on  the 
        upward path of victory.  Praise God.
        
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