holding-hands-752878_960_720Head of the Class
Ever since I heard such new things about God-Love I can’t be disturbing at school, doodling at my desk. The teacher even noticed the change in me and appointed me head of the class. Now it’s difficult for me to point out my classmates bad conduct, because I try to see Jesus in them and feel bad when they are punished. One day, since I didn’t, another student went to report three of us. To avoid their punishment, I convinced the teacher to let them clean the classroom, and after class I went to help them. Since then, little by little, the atmosphere in class is beginning to improve.  (Victoria – Uganda)

When I learned that the father of a large poor family needed emergency surgery and didn’t have the money for the operation, some friends and I began a fundraiser with our colleagues at work. When we had the money, I accompanied the father to hospital and paid for the medical treatment. The operation went well. I don’t know who was happier, the family or us! I think that small gestures such as these also help contribute to peace. ( N. Y.- Jordan)

In the airport
At the baggage control there was a passenger in front of me who was quite upset because he had to leave behind a jar of jam. “Well, at least don’t throw it out, because it’s special!” When I got through baggage control that same person told me that the jam had been made by his mother for her grandchildren. “All her love is in those bottles,” he added. After a silent pause: “Why does the world have to be goverened by fear? Yes, I understand, with all that’s going on . . . but even the social infrastructure itself instills fear and mistrust. Where has the beauty gone in life?” I didn’t have answers, only the same questions. Meanwhile, a little girl was smiling as she passed in front of us in a wheelchair. We looked at her and that happy little face completely silenced us. All you need is a smile and even an aiport gets lit up. (C. M. – Austria)

Praying together
I was in the oncology department for examinations and treatment. It was an opportunity to love others with small concrete gestures and sharing in their suffering. That day my roomate – a stocky farmer of rude appearance – was about to undergo chemo. Just then he received news from the doctor and nurse that his son had died and the man’s therapy was postponed so that he could return home. I watched as his body bent beneath the tremendous shock. When we were alone and he was preparing his bag and weeping, I gathered my courage and with  gentleness and respect asked him if he ever prayed. When he said yes, I invited him to pray the Our Father together for his son. It struck me as I watched that 73 year-old man join his hands and pray. And I thanked God that I dared to ask him to pray together.   (Pablo – Philippines)

No comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.