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…..”