Unexpected Healing
An African Man Stops to Help Stranded Travelers—and Receives a Healing of the Heart
By AOO
My life was not good. All the money I had was 320 pula. The job I loved had ended; and despite inner warning, I had run down my savings to ease the pain I felt after my wife left me.
I was walking to take the bus home after our Friday HU Song at the ECK center in town. When I arrived at the bus ring, all the buses going to my area had already left. I decided to get on another bus that would take me partway to my destination, but by mistake I got off the bus too soon.
I was stranded in an unfamiliar area about 1.5 kilometers from where I live. The night was dark and cold.
I began walking along the road and came upon a crossroads at a path into the bush. To my surprise, under a very dark tree at the intersection huddled a woman with three young children. The oldest girl was about nine, the second was about six, and the third was a baby, carried on the mother's back in the African way.
When I saw them, I decided to walk past. Although it was unusual to see a woman and three children abroad in the night, I concluded that the woman had probably had a fight with her husband and it was best if I didn't interfere.
As I walked past, I heard a voice from the center of my heart.
"Antoine, are you passing?"
At first I dismissed it and continued on my way. Then the voice spoke again.
"Antoine, you are passing me!"
I turned around and walked back to the family. I greeted them in the local language, telling them my name and that I came from the Democratic Republic of the Congo. From the woman's accent I realized she was not a native of Botswana. I asked her how she had ended up under the tree in the middle of the night.
The woman told me they were from Zambia. They had been waiting under the tree all afternoon and evening for a man who was supposed to come pick them up. But he had not arrived.
I wanted to be friendly, so in turn I told her my story, how I had come to Botswana in 1999, married a native, and had two children, but my wife had left me for another man. She had taken my children and all the furniture, I said. Because I had lost my job, I didn't even have a place of my own.
"You should go on your way," said the woman. "No one has stopped to help us, not even people in big cars have offered us a lift. There's nothing you can do."
I said I wasn't going to leave her on this dark night. Even though I had little money, I was there to help. The inner voice in my heart urged me to offer whatever I had to the woman and her children. Maybe I could take them to a police station, and they could get help there.
"My life has always been hard," said the woman, "because I am a prophetess. The devil is always fighting me."
I asked her what church she belonged to.
"I am a Pentecostal," she said.
What could I do to help her? I wondered. The wind was picking up, and the air was getting colder. I worried about the shivering children, especially the baby. The night air was icy now, and I thought longingly of my warm room. My mind debated: I couldn't even help myself; how could I help this strange woman? Maybe it was best to go. But the inner voice encouraged me to wait a little bit longer.
Four houses were nearby. At one of them, I could hear a party going on. A young man passed, looking at us, and I called out to him. I pointed to the woman and her children. Was there someplace this family could spend the night? Or could the young man lend us a car to drive the family to the Zambian embassy?
The young man went to talk with a man in one of the houses who owned a BMW. This man came over to speak to us. It turned out he was from Zambia. He asked the woman many questions. She said her husband had left for the U.S. several months ago. He had promised to send money, but she hadn't received any.
To my surprise, the man with the BMW got on the phone and called the husband in the U.S. And the husband answered! The two men spoke for a long time. The husband promised to send the woman money by the next Tuesday. "Please help my wife in any way you can," said the husband. So the owner of the BMW went into his house and came back with 100 pula for the woman. Then he gave me 30 pula to pay for a taxi to take the family to a lodge nearby. He even called for the taxi!
By this time, the children were looking at me with awe. I was the mysterious stranger who had not only stopped to help them, but who had connected them with their missing father. The oldest girl came over to me and gave me a hug.
"You are the person we were waiting for," she said.
"What does she mean?" I asked the mother.
"I had a dream not long ago," the mother said, "and I was told that someone would come to help us. My dream showed me much about you. You must come with us."
"It was God who helped you," I said.
"You must come with us," she insisted. "You helped us, and we will now help you. Come to the lodge tomorrow, and I will tell you everything I was told in my dream."
The taxi came, and the little family drove away. I stood watching them leave, wondering at what had happened that night. I felt different, unlike the Antoine I had been. It was as if something had changed deep inside me, through giving this small service.
The next morning I went to the lodge to see how the family had fared. But there was no sign of them. I asked if a woman and her three children had spent the night there.
No one had seen them.
I wondered about this experience. It had made a huge impression on me as a new member of Eckankar.
I was a different person afterward, and I knew more about the simple, yet profound, ways the Mahanta works with all life. The ECK brings benefit to everyone, if we are each willing to be of service to God.
Excerpted from the 2006 Eckankar Journal, copyright © 2005 ECKANKAR. All rights reserved.
