“For some reason, he chose me and always wanted to sit on my lap. His position on my lap gave me the opportunity to put my hand on his shoulder, and sometimes on the tumor, and pray for him during every meeting, all meeting long. During the Bible message, the worship songs, and the prayer, I just kept praying for him.”

I told the pastors that I was staying. They look concerned. The family looked concerned. Even I was concerned, but I tried to hide it.  “How will we talk to her?,” the family asked the pastor when they found out that I was staying. “She doesn’t speak our language. “
“ I don’t need to talk. I’m just going to pray,” I said..

“As I stood at the stop, I noticed someone out of the corner of my eye—kicking a stone, then a bottle, in the middle of the road. At first, I assumed he was drunk. But something in the movement felt familiar.

Then I realized…..”