Chapter 2 – Peculiar Birth and Childhood

It was breaking dawn on a beautiful April morning in the year 1909 in the hill country of Kentucky not far from the place where Abraham Lincoln was born almost exactly one hundred years before. In a humble cabin the light began to creep through the window over a small crude bed, when a baby’s voice was heard. Two little hands of a five-pound infant were stroking the cheeks of its fifteen-year-old mother. Standing near the bed was the young father, Charles Branham, with his arms folded in the bib of his new overalls, dressed up a bit, for mountain folk for this special occasion. As the day dawned, the birds had already begun their singing, and it seemed to the father that the morning star shone a little brighter. The little one cried again as its tiny hand brushed against his mother’s face.

“We’ll call his name William,” said the father, as he gazed happily down on his newborn son. “That will be well,” said the mother, “for then he will go by the name of Billy.” Little did the mother know that the hands of this little child, that were touching her cheeks would be used of Almighty God for delivering His people from sickness and bondage. No one in that part of the country would ever have thought that this little humble-born mountain baby would carry the message of the Gospel over the world. Of all the mountain folk, the Branham family was the poorest of the poor. However, God’s ways are past finding out! How could these people have believed it, if someone had told them that God, through those hands someday would cause the demons to go out, the blind to see, the deaf to hear, cancers to vanish, and thousands upon thousands to fall prostrate at altars in tears of repentance? Nor could they have believed that airplanes crossing the continent at high speed would fly the sick to him. Or that trains and busses loaded with sick would be brought to him for deliverance. That they would come from the East and the West, the North and South, to hear him tell the story of Jesus Christ the Saviour in his simple, humble way.

As the neighbors gathered in to see the new born babe, there seemed to be, so it is told, a strange feeling of awe in the room. Who can say that it was not the presence of the angel who, under the direction of God, has guided William Branham in many of the events of his life, and who later was to speak to him in person?

It was just two weeks later that the father and mother carried their baby down the creek to the Lone Star meeting house–a little old-fashioned Missionary-Baptist Church made of logs and clapboard shingles, with a dirt floor and seats made of boards lying across blocks of wood. It was little William Branham’s first visit to a church!

Child And Mother Providentially Escape Death
Inasmuch as the father was a logger, it was necessary for him to be away from home much of the time, especially in the fall and winter months when the weather would be bad for travailing. During these times the mother and the babe would be left alone. It was at one of these times that circumstances conspired to almost take the life of both the mother and son.

So it happened that at this time when the child was about six months of age, and the father was away from home, a terrible storm came, and the whole country was snowbound for days. There was little to eat in the cabin and soon the mother ran out of both food and wood. She wrapped her feet in burlap sacks, went into the woods, and chopped small saplings, then dragged them to the cabin, trying to keep fire. Finally she grew weaker and weaker and had to give up. With no food or heat the mother took all the bed clothing, wrapped herself and the child in bed, and waited for the end. It was then that God sent His protecting angel and spared their lives.

A neighbor lived at some distance from them, though in sight of the Branham cabin. For some reason he had a strange foreboding concerning the circumstances in that little humble home. Time after time he would gaze away toward it, and each time he would become more disturbed, especially as he failed to see any smoke rising from the chimney. When several days had gone by, the conviction so deepened within him that something was wrong that he determined to make an investigation, though it meant wading through drifts for a considerable distance.

Arriving at the door, his fears were confirmed, for there was no response from those inside, although the tracks outside showed that no one had left the vicinity, and the door was barred from the inside. He decided to break into the cabin and when he did so, he was startled by the scene before him. Mother and child wrapped in their bed clothes were near death from starvation and cold. The kind-hearted neighbor quickly secured wood and started a blazing fire that soon warmed the cabin. Then he went back to his own house to secure food. His deed of mercy was accomplished just in time. The mother and child revived and soon were on their way to health again.

Not long after this the family moved from the state of Kentucky to Indiana, where the father went to work for a farmer near Utica, Indiana. Then a year later they moved again farther down in the valley near Jeffersonville, Indiana, a moderately sized city, which was to become William Branham’s home town.

First Message To The Boy
Several years passed and the boy was about seven years of age, having just entered school in a rural section a few miles north of Jeffersonville. It was at this time that God first spoke to the lad. We will let Brother Branham tell the story of this peculiar visitation in his own words:

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I was on my way one afternoon to carry water to the house from the barn, which was about a city block away. About halfway between the house and the barn stood an old poplar tree. I had just gotten home from school and the other boys were going out to a pond to fish. I was crying to go but dad said that I had to pack water. I stopped under the tree to rest when all of a sudden I heard a sound as of the wind blowing the leaves. I knew that it wasn’t blowing any other place. It seemed to be a very still afternoon. I stepped back from the tree and noticed that in a certain place about the size of a barrel, the wind seemed to be blowing through the tree leaves. Then there came a voice saying: “Never drink, smoke, or defile your body in any way, for I have a work for you to do when you get older.”

It frightened me so that I ran home, but at that time I never told anyone about it. Crying and running to the house, I fell into the arms of my mother, who thought I had been bitten by a snake. I told her that I was just scared, so she put me to bed, and was going to call a doctor, thinking I was suffering from nervous shock. I never did go by that tree any more. I would detour down the other side of the garden to avoid it. I believe that the angel of God was in that tree, and in later years I was to meet him face to face and talk with him.

Because of God’s strange dealing with me I could never drink or smoke. One day I was going to the river with my dad and another man. They offered me a drink of whiskey, and because I wanted to find favor with the man so that he would let me use his boat, I started to take the drink. But as positively as I am speaking today, I heard that sound like the blowing of the leaves. Looking around, and seeing no sign of the wind blowing, I put the bottle to my lips again, when I heard the same noise, only louder. Fear swept over me as before. I dropped the bottle and ran away, while my own dad called me a “sissy.” O how that hurt! Later on I was called a “sissy” by my youthful girl friend when I told her I didn’t smoke. Angered by her mockery, I took the cigarette and was going to smoke it anyway, when I was arrested by that familiar sound causing me to throw down the cigarette and leave the scene crying because I could not be like other people, while the jeers of the crowd rang in my ears.

There was always that peculiar feeling, like someone standing near me, trying to say something to me, and especially when I was alone. No one seemed to understand me at all. The boys that I associated with would have nothing to do with me, because I wouldn’t drink and smoke, and all the girls went to dances, of which I wouldn’t partake either, so it seemed that all through my life I was just a black sheep knowing no one who understood me, and not even understanding myself.