Addie Mae Hayes

My father was a sharecropper who had been a slave until slavery was abolished when he was about eleven years old. He always talked to us about the Lord, and would take me to Sunday school every Sunday. My heart hungered for Jesus, and as a young girl, I would often leave my playmates and go out in the woods to pray. I would walk through the meadows, and sit on a log by a lake and listen to the birds singing, the humming of the bees and other insects, and think about the God who had made it all possible.

I jumped up shouting, “I’ve got it! I’ve got it!”

We attended a little Baptist church while I was growing up. Sometimes special meetings were held that lasted for several weeks at a time. The year I was sixteen, I was under heavy conviction. At church, I went to the mourners’ bench again and again, but never felt that my prayers were answered. I had done all I knew to do. One day in a cotton field, I knelt once more and prayed, “Lord, have mercy! Have mercy!” All at once it was as though the Lord spoke to me, “You are saved!” I jumped up shouting, “I’ve got it! I’ve got it!” I ran home, and the first person I met was my father. How glad I was to tell him that I was now a child of God.

A few years later I married John Hayes, and we, along with several other families, moved to Arkansas. A year or two later, some people came to
our community and put up a big tent and we had revival meetings held by a circuit preacher. They preached the three experiences of justification, sanctification, and the baptism of the Holy Ghost. What a revival there was!

In one of the meetings, a woman shared some papers from the Apostolic Faith Church with my mother. It wasn’t long before we were on the mailing list too, and no matter where we moved, we always kept our name on that list. How I longed to go to Portland to be among the people who upheld the standard of the Bible! But we were very poor, and by this time we had five children.

After World War I, work became scarce in the South and people began moving North. We sold all of our possessions and moved also. The money only took us as far as Poplar Bluff, Missouri, where we had relatives. My husband couldn’t find work there and heard that factory work was available in Chicago, so he went to Chicago. When we arrived, though, he found that the quota had been filled. I was still receiving papers from the Apostolic Faith Church and I longed to go there. Reading the papers kept me going during these difficult times.

I thought that the Lord must have forsaken me.

An opening became available in an auto factory in Pontiac, Michigan, so my husband went and later sent for me and the five children. While there, we had three more children. I continued to draw strength from the church papers but I longed to go to Portland. My husband had steady work and our life improved, but then tragedy struck. Immunizations were not available and we could not afford good medical help. The children contracted a communicable disease and were put in a communal hospital. Then one by one the five older children died. At that time I was carrying twins. One of the twins died at birth and the other died soon after. I was devastated. I reached my lowest ebb and clung to the church papers.

We had three more children and then my greatest shock came in March of 1933, when my husband died suddenly of pneumonia. My youngest child was eleven months old. I thought that the Lord must have forsaken me. My heart was broken. There I was with six little children and no way to make a living. I had been suffering with asthma for about a year. What was I to do now?

There was a little insurance money, so I bought clothes for the children and some groceries, and then decided to use the rest of the money on a trip to Portland for a camp meeting that was in session at that time. I had never traveled alone, but my hunger for the Lord was so great that it gave me courage. I  told no one of my plans to go any farther than Chicago, where I expected to visit my relatives on my way back. My children stayed with my parents.

I heard Sister Crawford give the Word, and at the close of the service, I was sanctified.

What a trip that was! It took from Monday afternoon until midnight the following Sunday to reach Portland. Coming into the depot so late, I thought I would just sit there until morning, and then take a streetcar to the campground. But about one o’clock in the morning, the station agent said the last bus was in and he was closing up. So, I took a taxi to the campground and found everything locked up for the night. The taxi driver kept calling over the fence until someone heard him and let me in. I was given a bed for the night.

My dream had been realized! I was at the camp meeting in Portland! There were no services on Monday, but I met many friendly people who showed me around. On Tuesday, I just watched. Was this really what I had expected? It was! I felt I was home at last. I sent postcards to tell my family where I was.

Wednesday morning at the prayer meeting, I went right to the altar and renewed my covenant with God. At the afternoon Bible teaching, I heard Sister Crawford give the Word, and at the close of the service, I was sanctified. After the evangelistic service that night, I received the baptism of the Holy Ghost. My hunger was satisfied. I was baptized in water on Thursday along with many others. My preparation had been made and I could just enjoy Friday and Sunday, the last days of the camp meeting.

The Lord had answered my prayer! I never suffered spiritually or financially again.

I returned to Michigan with peace and joy in my heart. Life continued to be difficult though. I was in poor health, living on assistance, and doing some domestic work. Again tragedy struck. My nine-year old son, Bobby, contracted an infection that went to his heart and he died. I had such heartache.  

My whole thought was to get back to Portland to live. We were very poor but I saved what little money I earned for another trip to Portland. It took eight years before I could make the move. It was in 1941, and many people had come to Portland to work in the shipyards during World War II, so it was hard to find a place to live. I looked for a house to buy, but there seemed to be nothing available. I prayed, “Lord, you have houses. You have everything. You can find something for me.” As I was leaving church that night, a friend stopped me and asked, “Have you talked with Sister Jones? Her mother isn’t well, and she has gone back to Texas. She wants you to have her house.”

The Lord had answered my prayer! I never suffered spiritually or financially again.
At times when my asthma was very bad, my daughter would sit up with me to help me. She prayed that if the Lord would heal me, she would serve Him. The Lord has healed me completely, and my daughter is serving the Lord with me. It has been wonderful to serve the Lord, in good times and bad.
When Addie Hayes moved to Portland, her heart’s desire was to serve God. By then she had suffered not only the loss of her husband but also seven of their thirteen children. She never remarried, and with God as her strength, she took on the challenge of rearing her remaining children. Three of her daughters still attend our Portland church. Through the years, she was a faithful worker in the headquarters office mailing room and on the cleaning crew. She helped to care for many of the sick and elderly in our church in those early days. In November of 1991, at the age of 95, she went Home to meet her Savior.