Let’s look down along the line now, with a—with a mental vision. I see standing along the line, rich women with babies with little lace handwork garments, holding a lamb, a rich baby’s offering. Way down along the line, I see a little girl about eighteen years old with a veil over her face, poorly dressed, holding something in her hand, not in fine needle work, but in swaddling’s cloth. Swaddling’s cloth is what they take off the back of the yoke of an ox. When it’s plowing, it’d rub its shoulders, they put cloth on there. And when He was born, the King of heaven, the richest of all the world, He was born in a manger. I wonder why? He was a Lamb. Lambs are not born in houses; they’re born in barns. He was the Lamb of God. He was borned on a straw pile. He came in by the way of a stable door and went out through capital punishment. The world knew Him not, and the world knows Him not yet tonight.

Expectancy, 1953-11-08, Owensboro, KY, §17