A Sliver of Hope

I had just completed my first year of university and had finished writing my final exam. As I left campus and began the familiar drive to my parents’ house, I felt a strange pull—not to celebrate, not to meet friends for lunch, but simply to go home and rest. I didn’t know it then, but God was preparing something far greater than just a peaceful afternoon.

As I turned into my parents’ driveway, I noticed a woman sitting quietly by the lamppost at the edge of the yard. She looked exhausted and worn down by the summer heat, or so I thought. I parked the car and walked over to check on her, gently asking if she was okay. She looked up at me with eyes full of sorrow. It became clear this wasn’t just physical exhaustion—her soul was weary.

I introduced myself and told her my name—Selam. In a soft, almost broken voice, she replied, “I’m Linda.”

I offered her a cold drink and invited her inside. She said her blood sugar was low, so I gave her some water and orange juice. As she slowly regained her strength, she looked around the dining room and noticed the picture of the Last Supper hanging on the wall. “Are you Christians?” she asked.

I smiled and said, “Yes, we’re Orthodox Christians.”

I shared a bit of my own journey—how God had worked in my life and how He continues to guide me. I spoke of the peace I’ve found in prayer and reading the Holy Bible, the strength in fasting, and the comfort of knowing Christ is always near. She listened quietly, and in that moment, I knew it wasn’t just my story—it was God reaching her heart through it.

With tears in her eyes, she said she used to go to church and grew up in it, but hadn’t stepped inside one in over twenty years. We moved to the living room and sat together, talking. She shared pieces of her life, and I opened up about my dreams and what I was studying. Though we had just met, there was a deep sense of compassion between us.

When it was time for her to leave, I offered her a ride. She didn’t have a car, so I asked for her address. Instead, she softly asked, “Can you take me to my old church?”

“Of course,” I said.

As I drove her there, I had no idea I was witnessing the gentle, healing hand of God leading her back to Him.

Two weeks later, I came home from the store and my parents told me someone was waiting for me in the living room. To my surprise, it was Linda. I hadn’t even told my parents about the day I met her, but she had already shared everything with them. This time, she wasn’t alone. Her husband was sitting beside her, and in her hands was a small gift bag. She smiled, handed it to me, and said, “This is for you.”

Inside the bag was a figurine of an angel. She looked at me, eyes brimming with emotion, and said, “That day you found me, you were my angel.”

Then she told me something that left me speechless.

That day, as she sat by the lamppost, she wasn’t just tired or dehydrated. She had been preparing to end her life. Her 16-year-old son had passed away, and she was carrying the crushing weight of grief. She had planned to walk to the bridge near my parents’ home and take her life. But along the way, her strength gave out, and she sat down by the lamppost just before reaching the bridge. And that’s when I saw her.

A simple glass of water. A seat in the shade. A conversation about faith. A ride to the church she hadn’t entered in two decades. That’s all it took for her to feel the hand of God again. She told us that the encounter and her conversation with the priest afterward gave her a sliver of hope. And sometimes, a sliver of hope is all it takes to begin again.

My heart broke for her. I couldn’t hold back the tears—hearing her pain, her loss, and how close she came to giving up left me overwhelmed. I had no words—just deep sorrow for what she had carried, and in awe at how gently God had intervened.

I never imagined that one small decision to show kindness, to choose compassion over comfort could become a lifeline for someone standing at the edge. I wasn’t doing anything extraordinary. But God, in His mercy, took an ordinary moment and turned it into something miraculous.

Truly, His ways are far beyond anything we can imagine.

That day taught me something I will carry for the rest of my life: we never truly know the battles others are facing. But if we allow the love of Christ to work through us, even in the smallest acts of kindness, we become part of His divine plan.

My beautiful Tewahedo Orthodox sister, never underestimate the power of a simple act done with love. You never know whose life you may touch, or even save. That day, it wasn’t grand gestures that opened the door to healing—it was mercy. And I am deeply humbled that God allowed me to be there for Linda, not because of who I am, but because of who God is.

He is kind. He is faithful. He is merciful. He is loving.

And His love never fails.

All glory be to God—now and forevermore. Amen🕊️

Not unto us, O Lord, not unto us, but to Your name give glory, because of Your mercy, because of Your truth.

 Psalm 115:1 (NKJV)

Selam Seyoum