When Henry Allan Ironside was just two years old, his father died of typhoid fever and left the family destitute.  His mother was forced to take in sewing to provide for the two little boys who were left without a daddy.  Money was always tight, but biographers tell about the occasion when there was nothing to eat.  Henry’s mother, nonetheless, set the table and poured water.  The two little boys and their mother sat down, and in spite of the fact there was no food on the table, they bowed their heads to give thanks to God for, at least, the water.  But no sooner had they finished their prayer when a resounding knock at the door brought them to attention.