This video made the national news in Canada a couple of weeks ago. When the music finished, a interviewer asked the young man why he put this clip together. He said, “I wasn’t looking for all this attention. I just wanted to celebrate the true meaning of Christmas — Jesus Christ.” Amen to that!
Photo courtesy: FreeDigitalPhotos.net
Last year at the end of our Romanian youth camp, several team members and I strolled through the village where the camp was held. We rounded a corner and discovered a little granny sitting outside her house creating a traditional craft. She had no written pattern to follow. Instead, she was copying an existing creation.
She seemed delighted when we Westerners stopped to admire her handiwork, and she launched into a monologue that left us nodding and smiling at her words. When she finally stopped to take a breath, we told her that we spoke only English and that we came from Canada.
The word Canada resonated with Granny. When she launched into round two of her monologue, I caught a few words that sounded similar to words I’d learned in high school French class. If I pieced them together correctly, she was saying that a family member had gone to Canada and she hadn’t seen him since. Then she began to cry. Long story short, I prayed for her and she seemed to appreciate it.
Memories of this precious Romanian grandma stuck with me through the year. When it came time to pack our suitcases at the end of June, I purchased a fabric shopping bag and a container of Earl Gray tea for her. I committed to walking through the village on the last day of camp in hopes of finding her again. And guess what? My desire came true!
Romanian Grandma
We rounded the corner just as we did last year, and there she was…sitting outside her house, on the same bench, but without her craft project. I crossed the street and greeted her. She gave a little smile and motioned for me to sit beside her. I pulled my laptop from my bag and found the picture of her and I taken last year. She looked closely at the screen, pointed at her eyes, and shook her head. Then she leaned in for a closer look. Her expression changed to one of recognition and delight.
Another monologue. Another prayer. A light kiss on each cheek, and a wave goodbye.
Later, my husband laughed and said, “I can’t believe you actually found her. She could have been at the store, or in her backyard, or at a friend’s house. But no…she was sitting on the same bench as though she was expecting you.”
Only God knows why I’ve been given the opportunity to meet this Romanian grandma twice. I haven’t a clue why our paths have crossed as they have, but I know there’s a reason. I pray that, despite the language barrier, she will have sensed God’s love for her and the surprise visits will have brought her encouragement.
Tomorrow morning, I’ll be meeting with a lady in Kosice, Slovakia. Apparently she’s in her mid-sixties and struggling a bit with her health. She has read my book, Moving from Fear to Freedom: A Woman’s Guide to Peace in Every Situation, after someone gave her a copy in the past. She found it very helpful. Tonight, a mutual friend told me about her and asked if I’d meet with her if she was willing.
She’s willing; I’m available. And so, at 10 AM (Slovakia time), I’ll go to this lady’s home for a visit. Another divine appointment. Gotta love it when this happens!
Have a good Saturday. After my visit with this woman, our team will load up and head out to the camp venue to prepare. This evangelistic family camp begins on Sunday afternoon. Hubby and I can only stay until Monday morning because we have to travel to Poland to host a camp there. It will be a two-day trip via buses, taxis, and trains. Oughta be interesting!
The past three weeks have looked like a whirlwind to me. First, we spent two weeks in Slovakia and Holland. Upon our return to Canada, we were home only 36 hours before I flew to California to attend the Mt. Hermon Christian Writers Conference (fantastic!). I returned home on Wednesday to find that my daughter-in-law has been very ill for several days. Yesterday I babysat the grandkids so she could rest and our son could go to work. More of the same today. All that said, my blog posts have been non-existent this week. I plan to be back on Monday, however. In the meantime, have a great weekend. Looks like the sun has decided to appear here today, so this Grandma might take the grandbabies to the park this afternoon.
Enjoy Easter! May your hearts be blessed as you ponder on its meaning.
After the kids left the camp, our team collected used sheets and towels from each room to help the venue staff, ate lunch and went for a walk through the village. Everyone who lives here is unemployed. Why? Because they all worked at a nearby precious metals mine that closed about five years ago. Nowadays they earn income by fishing on the Danube River and selling their catch to their neighbors and those who pass through the town. Every few feet along the main road through the village, we saw signs indicating fish for sale.
One of many big homes in the village.
I noticed many large houses along the road. That raised a question: How can the unemployed afford them? I asked one of our staff, and he explained that the owners made their money when the United Nations placed an oil embargo on Serbia during the civil war about 10 years ago. He said they transported gasoline across the Danube to the Serbian coast and sold it there for large profit. The Serbian coastal authorities never tried to stop them because they wanted the gasoline. The money earned from illegal sales provided the funding to build these houses with no debt. Now the owners are unemployed, but at least they won’t lose their houses.
When I’m overseas, watching people interact in the normal course of their day is one of my favorite things to do. (Someday I’d love to have a camera with a zoom lens so I can take facial photos without them noticing). This elderly lady was sitting on a bench in front of her house, creating a table runner. She seemed delighted that we stopped to admire her handiwork. She explained that she was copying a model, as seen in the picture. Then she began talking…and talking…and talking, oblivious to the fact that we couldn’t understand the majority of what she said.
The lady and I.
I strained to listen to her story and managed to pick up a few words because they sounded like French. By piecing bits and pieces together, I understood that one of her family members lives in Canada but she hasn’t seen him for a long time. Most of her family is dead and the government gives her little or no pension. From the looks of her house, she probably has no indoor plumbing.
Within a couple of minutes, tears filled the woman’s eyes and spilled down her cheeks. My heart broke for her. What do I do, God? I prayed. The answer came back, Pray for her. And so I did. I placed my hand on her shoulder and began praying aloud in English – that God would comfort her, provide for her needs and draw her to a saving knowledge of Himself.
Despite our language barrier, the woman seemed to understand. She pointed to the sky and repeated the Romanian word for God several times. Finally, when I sensed the time was right to leave, I kissed her on both cheeks according to custom and bid her goodbye. I walked away feeling guilty for my very blessed life and praying that God would show Himself to her in a tangible way.
Each time I minister overseas – especially in a country such as Romania – I struggle with feelings of guilt. My life seems so easy compared to some peoples’ existence. I never worry about having sufficient food or where I’ll lay my head. When I face medical issues, I see my doctor and have them dealt with as quickly as possible. I have family and friends and the freedom to stay in touch with them.
Others cannot imagine such a life. They’re fighting to survive. They have neither clean drinking water nor the luxury of hot showers. The lucky ones glean an education and then leave their homeland to work abroad and send money back to support their loved ones.
Today was my birthday. Meeting this woman and praying with her made my day special. I’ll face the next year with a renewed attitude of gratitude for God’s presence and provisions, and with a deeper burden to pray for the disenfranchised. “Thank You, God, for this special gift.”
Join Grace on Facebook
Follow Grace on Twitter
Recent Comments