A Bible in His Hands

Kutlu, a friend of ours who is a retired professor, has moved to a village several hours away. We always enjoyed times together with him, and we were sad to see him go. He was a great language helper and especially warm toward our children. Kutlu and I often went for morning walks together, and I sensed a strong spiritual interest awakening in him.

Much to my surprise one morning, the dour gardener/maintenance man for our apartment complex stopped me. “Yesterday, I drove to a village several hours away to check on my family’s watermelon patch,” He scowled. “While there, I met a man named Kutlu.” He pointed at me accusingly. “You know him, don’t you?”
Unsure where this was going, I meekly replied that I did.

The gardener got right to his point. “You gave him a Bible. I want that book, too. Can you give me one?”

I was shocked.

The gardener looked at his cigarette and said, “I can’t quit smoking these things. I need help.”

I was dizzy with amazement. God had brought our nearest neighbor in touch with our most distant friend in Turkey! Because of security issues, we have never witnessed to our gardener, though we see him every day.

That night at about 11 p.m., I slipped down to the gardener’s apartment and put a Bible in his eager hands.

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