Thinking Hell Was on Earth: From Sinner to Saint

By Slim Hasson

!! IT'S A BLESSING TO BE TAUGHT BY THE MASTER TEACHER!!
Dear Lord I thank you for my writing ministry. On August 28th 1985 the Lord Jesus Christ of Nazareth spoke to my heart and told me to use what I had. He carried my mind back to the many victories I had accomplished in writing letters. I was in Morning Prayer at the church I attend, and I was asking the Lord for an answer to a situation that I was in. The Lord's answer was simple. He said use what you have. In the early part of the year 1986 God gave me a title, He said to me, It's A Blessing to Be Taught by the Master Teacher. It was on a Sunday Morning I was getting ready for church. I thought it was going to be the title of a song, and that the Lord would give me the words at a later date. Then in September that same year the Lord let me know that I was to do a great work under that title. Through my writing ministry I will say the things that the Master Teacher puts on my heart. Just in case I have not made it plain who the Master Teacher is, his name is Jesus Christ of Nazareth.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jun 11, 2013
• ISBN: 9781483639567

Book preview

Copyright © 2013 by Slim Hasson.

Library of Congress Control Number:   2013908539

ISBN:   Hardcover   978-1-4836-3955-0

   Softcover   978-1-4836-3954-3

   Ebook   978-1-4836-3956-7

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted

in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system,

without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

Rev. date: 06/06/2013

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris Corporation

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

[e-mail]

133991

CONTENTS

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

PROLOGUE

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

January 28, 1986

THIS BOOK IS TO BE A LEGACY TO MY CHILDREN, AND THEIR CHILDREN, AND THEIR CHILDREN’S CHILDREN AND SO ON, AND SO ON, FROM GENERATION TO GENERATION AS LONG AS A HASSON, TYLER, COPELAND SHALL LIVE.

SLIM HASSON

SLIM HASSON

It is Wednesday night February 8, 1978. I have been waiting all day for the gas company to shut off the gas due to my inability to pay the bill. While sitting here waiting I can only think back over the years and wonder what went wrong and when, for things to lead to this day. I guess I will have to start at the beginning to figure it all out. I was born June 25, 1933 on a Sunday evening in Chicago, Illinois a day that my beloved departed mother spoke of many times. It seems as though that day was a beautiful day to her; Mother’s grandparents had gone to church and had left her to cook. She remembered the cooking especially because she had made two freezers of ice cream the first one she ate by herself. My mother was a very pretty, olive skin toned, petite woman with naturally beautiful hair.

I was at least two or three years old before I had any remembrance of my father; my father was a tall, strong, dark complexioned man. As a small child I remember only happy times, a great grandfather who adored me and whom I loved very much: Pa-Pa we called him. I remember Christmas especially because it was a wonderful time. On Christmas Eve we would hang our stockings over the Fireplace to be filled with all kinds of goodies. On Christmas morning we would awaken to toys and the smell of ham baking, pies, and cakes. My mother was a wonderful cook and a lovely homemaker. As I sit here writing this I wonder when the change in my mother and father’s life really took place. In order to get an understanding I will have to explain to you the type of people my parents were.

Mama was a church reared country girl and my father was a worldly man. My mother was his second wife; however, he was her first husband. They were both born in Alabama, but they met and married in Chicago, Illinois. There were four children born to them, myself being the eldest of three daughters and one son. The only conclusion I draw as to what happened later on was that my mother had never known a worldly life. When she was introduced to it she lost track of the life she was reared to believe in. My father is not without fault because he impregnated another woman while he was still married to my mother.

I must have been five or six years old when the good times changed to bad ones. I remember it was during World War 11 when my father no longer resided with us. Those were hard times for my mother and the four of us. My mother was on welfare; we lived on Calumet at 52nd street. Mama had to go to 51st street to what was the U.S.O. Center at that time to pick up clothes and milk tickets for us. One cold, snowy day we were evicted and set out into the streets. I remember a lady we called Aunt Ada taking us in until my mother could find a place for us to live.

It was years later when I found out that my mother and father were divorced. He had moved to Battle Creek, Michigan with his new family. The woman who he had impregnated while married to Mama had now become his third wife. Since he was a soldier we were entitled to an allotment as his minor children. For some unfortunate reason the allotment checks were held up, forcing Mother to be evicted and put on welfare. I assume being alone for the first time in her life with four young children to rear, soon proved to be too much for her to handle.

When I was about 9 years old my mother moved on 37th street, we were living with a lady called Mrs. Hoskins and Mother left us with this woman and went to Oakland, California, with a soldier she had married. This was my first knowledge that Hell is on Earth. I can remember Mrs. Hoskins a heavyset, light brown skin woman; she was not mean to us however; she was not family. So when Mother did not return to get us my father’s mother and sisters took us in.

September 12, 1985 Thursday afternoon. When I started to write this Book I was sure that Hell was on Earth. But since that time I have went from Sinner to Saint. I have learned that life is just what you make it. Going from Sinner to Saint was not a feat that I accomplished by myself. God our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ had mercy on me, with a broken heart and a contrite Spirit God saved my Soul.

To resume the story where I left off seven years ago, things have not improved much financially. My electricity has been shut off since July 16. On the other hand there is a Spiritual difference because I have Jesus in my life. When my Father’s mother and sisters took us in our lives changed again. My grandmother was a very strict person and a very religious person. We as children were not allowed the freedom of many children reared during those early years. If we did get a chance to go outside, we had to be in by the time the street lights came on. We were not allowed to go to parties and we had to go to church every Sunday; sometimes all day on Sunday, 9:00 Sunday school, 11:00 Morning Worship, and back at 6:00 in the evening for B.Y.P.U.

As I began to get a little older about 12 years of age, I was allowed to attend a movie if I went to church first. I can remember the show which we loved to attend so well. It was the N.R.A. Theater; located 58th and Prairie. All the kids gave the N.R.A. the nickname of the National Rat Alley, they said if you were to make a mistake and sit your popcorn down when you got ready to retrieve it a rat would already have eaten it up. Altogether those were good years, sometimes happy and sometimes sad. Due to the fact of being reared by my grandmother and Aunts I learned to cook, clean, and to be a good homemaker.

I remember the summers most of all, the children in the building would get together and clean up the large backyard; then we would have a barn fire with the trash. The Watermelon Man would come around with his horse and cart, my aunt would always go out and tease with him and he would give her a large watermelon for a cheaper price. Then there was The Ice Man we loved to see him coming because we would climb up on the back of his truck and eat the chips of ice that would fall off. We did not have a Coolerator, we had an ice box, and once or twice a week you would put the sign in the window for how much ice you wanted delivered. The sign would read in multiples of 25 lbs. to 100 lbs., and then The Ice Man would stop and leave the amount requested.

Also there was The Milkman with his horse and cart, he would leave your milk on the doorstep and if my grandmother was getting butter and eggs he would knock on the door; however, if it was milk