Amy, a Missionary Miracle
By: Gary Kurz
In the Old Testament we are given the miraculous account of Joshua successfully asking the Lord to make the sun stand still to confound the enemies of Israel and God. In effect he briefly caused time to stand still. In a local church that shall not be named here(by their request), a little girl unknowingly accomplished the same feat. For just a brief moment, time stood still.
The ushers were frozen in place and a deep hush had come over the congregation as they sat mesmerized by the scene that was unfolding before them. They sat motionless, but not emotionless; there was not a dry eye in the church.
This was one of those "once in a lifetime" spiritual moments that every pastor hopes and prays for; a situation or event that brings the congregation closer to the Lord. The following story is the account offered by the pastor of this church…
Months earlier, my wife and I were on tour visiting missionaries that our church supported. While visiting one interior city in India, we came across Amy (a name that we would later give her). Apparently unable to stand or walk due to malnutrition, she was using what little strength she had to drag herself through a garbage heap looking for morsels of food. It was a most sad and shocking scene.
Our guide told us that she was probably one of the many children abandoned by their impoverished families. "Don't worry", he said, "it's just the way things are here. Don’t bother with her." His calloused words fell on deaf ears however, as my wife and I hurried across the mud-soaked street and knelt near the little girl.
She couldn't have been more than five years old, but her wasting body made her look older. Turning her over, we were horrified to find open, gaping wounds from where she had dragged herself across the stones and debris. My wife shrieked, "Kenneth, there are maggots in her wounds!"
Gathering her up in our arms, we ran her back to our jeep. Laying her in the back seat with my wife at her side, we hurried back to the mission. There we bathed her, fed her and dressed her wounds, not necessarily in that order.
She was resilient, as children often are. Despite her weakened state, she clung tenaciously to my wife and would not let go of her. This was obviously the first parental care she had ever received. It so touched the both of us that almost in concert we blurted out to each other "Can we adopt her?"
Having no children of our own, it seemed like a Godsend fit. For the remainder of our stay, we nurtured and loved Amy as much as was humanly possible. I gave her a Raggedy Ann doll and promised we would be back for her. This must have been her first gift, because she wept silently when it was given to her and for the rest of that week that doll was never out of her arms.
After what seemed an eternity of paperwork and telephone calls, Amy was finally ours. She had regained her health and quickly assimilated to American life. She quickly learned English, started school and most importantly, eventually accepted the Lord as her savior.
Amy grew to be the darling of the congregation. Everyone pampered her and gave her gifts. But the Raggedy Ann remained her favorite. It went everywhere Amy went and never left her side. It was this doll, or at least Amy's love for it, that brought our church to a standstill at an evening service during our mission's conference.
That evening, a young missionary poured his heart out to the congregation. His moving challenge was for believers to give sacrificially to the Lord's work. Pointing to Amy, he said passionately “There are a million more like Amy out there and we can only reach them if we sacrifice of ourselves and give to missions.”
At the close of the service, a special missions offering was scheduled. When the offertory prayer ended, the ushers turned to pass the plates. The usher in the center aisle started to move past Amy, who always sat in the front center row. Before the usher could move past her, Amy reached out and grabbed his coat sleeve. The man immediately stooped down and said "What is it dear?"
Amy, apparently moved by the message, started to place her Raggedy Ann in the offering plate. It was her dearest and most valued possession. In child-like understanding of the sermon, she was sacrificially offering it to the Lord's work. At the last moment, however, Amy weakened and quickly drew her doll back and clutched it tightly.
By this time, the attention of the entire congregation had shifted to Amy. The ushers stood still and the pianist faltered and eventually stopped playing altogether, as all watched Amy battle with her emotions; wanting to do what she thought was right, but not finding the strength to do so. After a few more embattled, failed attempts, Amy finally placed her doll in the plate and, well, that is where this story really begins.
Everyone was in tears. A small castaway, who once wandered garbage heaps, just preached one of the strongest sermons ever delivered in our church. As a result, mission offerings skyrocketed and several young people surrendered to become missionaries. People began being more faithful; in attendance, in giving, and in service. We saw more people come to Christ and more baptisms than at any other time in our church history.
When asked later why she did what she did, Amy simply answered "Because I knew it would make my Father happy". I didn't ask which father she meant, earthly or heavenly, but I think we both were very happy with her that day.