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15
The War Cry | FEBRUARY 2016
couple of years later, an old Chevy drove up and parked
by the fence. A young man wearing a blue Air Force
uniform got out and walked toward me, smiling and
holding out his hand.
I must have looked blank, because as he came closer
the man asked, "Do you know who I am?"
"No, I don't," I said.
"You don't?"
"No, I don't know who you are."
"I'm the guy you helped that day back when I was
using drugs."
My eyes opened wide. I
grabbed his outstretched hand
in both of mine and pumped
it up and down. "It's great to
see you. You look good!"
The young man smiled. "I'm
so grateful for what you did
and what you said. I had to
come tell you: I'm happy now."
"Thank you." Tears came
to my eyes. "Seeing that you
are where you are in life,
knowing I was able to help,
that means"--I swallowed a
lump in my throat--"that
means everything to me."
The young man went to his
car and came back carrying a
white box. "Merry Christmas!"
He handed me a two-pound
box of chocolates.
Later that day I spoke
with some of the mechanics.
"Remember that kid I found
shooting up in the restroom a
while back?" They nodded yes.
"He's in the Air Force now,
doing fine. He came back to
say thanks." The men said it
just goes to show, you never
can tell about people.
Growing up in Cuba, I
had always wanted to serve
God as an ordained minister. I came to America, and
the opportunity God gave me was this service station.
I believe you can help others no matter where you are.
You don't have to be behind the pulpit.
For a while the young man used to drop by every
couple of years at Christmastime, always wearing
Air Force blue and bringing a big box of candy.
I haven't seen him lately. That's OK. It's enough to
know I helped.
Alison P. Martinez lives in Tucson, AZ.
"Each one should
use whatever gift
he has received
to serve others"
1 P
ETER
4:10 (NIV)
Photo by Maciej Bledowski
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1/12/16 3:59 PM