She was dying. I’ve been here long enough to know how to recognize it now. Her breath was labored, her skin was pallid, and her pupils did not even dilate when something was waved in front of them. The family – rather extensive - hovered nearby. I bit my lip. My usual procedure when visiting near-death patients is to pray with the family, read some Bible verses about the resurrection (1 Thessalonians 4:16-17 for example), and pass out a few Gideon New Testaments to the family members. But this case was different. I could tell by the women’s silken dresses and the men’s red-checkered turbans that this family was Muslim. How would they react to my advances? I decided it was worth a try anyway. Cautiously, politely, I approached the man who was indicated as the husband. “Excuse, would you mind if we prayed together for your wife?” I asked in Oroomiffa. He scrutinized me coldly, a hopeless, empty expression in his eyes. “Sure, why not?” He said. I bowed my head and began, “Our Father…” The family quieted down and watched me intently. When I had finished, I opened my Bible and carefully picked some verses. Everyone listened respectfully. Before leaving, I passed out some tracts and offered the husband a New Testament. He refused. Later that evening, I heard that Dr. Johnson and Scott Barlow were waiting for her to die in the ICU. I knew she wouldn’t make it through the night.

Early the next morning, I walked into the ward to have a prayer with the nurses, as I usually do. “Have you seen her?!” They asked excitedly. “Seen who?” I responded ignorantly. “The woman from ICU! Just go and look!” I went and poked my head into the unit. There she was. No breathing machine. No pallid skin color. She looked completely normal! “Naaga bultaani!” I greeted her eagerly. She turned and looked up at me with joyful eyes and a massive smile on her face. Her husband hastily stood up and shook my hand emphatically. The other family members grinned and waved. “Would you like to have another prayer together?” I asked. “Yes, yes, yes!!” They all chorused at once, “Please pray for us!” “Let us thank God for this great miracle.” I said. “Amen, amen!” they chorused once more. After prayer, I offered the New Testament again. It was accepted joyfully.