A Guatemalan mother's prayer (from El Salvador to Toronto)
I wasted no time as my next seat neighbor sat in his aircraft window seat beside me from El Salvador to Toronto. He had exused himself in Spanish as I stepped into the aisle to allow him passage. I rummaged in my purse and picked two Spanish tracts (I was well prepared for my trip) and handed them to him. Politely he took them both and as the flight attendant and video was going on with the usual flight instructions he was reading the tracts, and I was praying. Suddenly he looks up and me, and in English he says Thank You. I said do you understand what this is talking about, he said yes. He flipped one tract to the back and pointed to the name of my church, and said, my parents are like you. I said what do you mean. He said my parents are Baptists. They live in Guatemala where I had been visiting my mom and dad. So are you saved, I asked again. Not yet was the reply.
So I gave two English tracts to read, and I said, if you have any questions pls. feel free to ask me. The flight was about four hours and a half to Toronto. For the first two hours he fell asleep, then he woke up with a headache. In my purse I had Advil ready for him, but he needed water. Again I had a bottle of water on me. You name it. I had it. I was prepared for healing any kind of discomfort you might face. After his headache went away, he started talking again. First the questions were on a personal level, about my family status, and of course I asked him all about him, and I found out that his parents had been praying for him. He was a sweet young fellow, married young, divorced, has a child, living with a girlfriend, working in a factory, but I could tell he had the fear of God in him. As time went by, he started opening up, and he asked me all sorts of questions about which Bible is the correct Bible, dispensations, salvation etc. you name it. I gladly obliged. I spoke loud and I noticed that the lady in the seat infront pushed back her seat to get a clearer audience. I love it when people do that. By the time we started our descent into the Pearson Airport in Toronto, the guy had intimated to me that he loves God, and that he has asked the Lord to save him at some point. The fellow had not grown however.
I encouraged him to find a good Bible believing Church. Then he asked me if I had tracts in the Indian language, because his co-workers were all Indian. I apologized but I said I could give him more English tracts. I opened my purse and gave him some more. He noticed all sorts of tracts on me. Can I have a copy of this and that. Sure. By the time I landed in Toronto, I had emptied my purse of all the tracts which I had left on me. Thankfully, I kept one for emergy purposes, which the shuttle driver was fortunate to get. Henry was all excited when we parted. He was going to call his mother in Guatemala as soon as he arrived home in Toronto. He was going to tell his teary mother that God was waiting for him on the airplane, that as soon as he sat down, there was this Christian lady who handed him two tracts in Spanish, and later two tracts in English, and later emptied her purse into his lap.
Please pray for Henry that he might indeed find a good Bible teaching church and put his life in order.
