Here we are looked at as the “foreigner among us.” I had a great opportunity to break through that attitude.
Loud yelling then desperate screams for help awoke me at 5:00 in the morning. I pulled on jeans, ran outside, barefoot with no shirt and hopped on my neighbor’s wall. From her balcony, she directed me around the block to the source of the screams. I ran to the house where other guys entered the courtyard door just ahead of me. The ground floor of the house was on fire with the family trapped upstairs.
We tried breaking the door down unsuccessfully for quite a while until one of the guys found a boulder. With the door finally open and some buckets of water knocking the flames down, we could see the electric box had started the fire and couches were burning. So some went around the front to break that door down. When they yelled it was open, I ran to the front with them to get the family out. I’m still in jeans, no shoes nor shirt.
It was so thick with black smoke, we couldn’t see. It was hard to breath. We finally found the mother and got everyone out where a huge crowd was there waiting. Everyone was shocked when I, the foreigner, walked out—covered in soot—with the 3 other guys. I just walked through the crowd and left, saying nothing to anyone.
When I arrived home later, my neighbor across the wall thanked me for doing what I did. The lady’s whose house burned had asked my neighbor if she lived next to the “white man” and expressed how grateful she was that I came upstairs after her Several others have stopped me to say thanks. I said, “It’s what anybody would do.”
So, I’m not saying that God started the fire but I’m grateful he helped us start our time here with favor in the hearts of our neighbors.