The little AND BIG miracles. Part 2.

I got an email today from a good friend of mine, in Latvia, who will soon get a gold star for being such a regular reader of this blog. She said that the story about how my last semester of college got paid for really touched her and she cried a little while reading it with her morning coffee.

That's why I want to post these stories. Because it reminds us of the goodness that God wants to bring into our lives. Because it gives hope and makes us fall in love more. Because it reminds that those things that sometimes we do that seem a little act of kindness is a miracle to someone in need.

Like I said, those first 5 years in the US were hard money-wise. When I look back, I honestly can say that I don't know how I got through it. There is no human explanation, it doesn't seem to add up financially but somehow, my bills were paid and I got my education. The best thing about it is that in those years of need I saw how God works. I experienced it on my own skin. How He looks out for those in need. For the orphans and widows, how much compassion He has for his children. I am not saying that I am an orphan, but when you are an ocean away from home and don't know what to do about that bill that needs to be paid, you kind of get an idea of what orphans might be feeling like.

So here is the second miracle - my first ever car!
Do you know about my first ever car? It was brown and the paint was chipping on it and by the end the hub caps were missing, one door handle broke off but it worked and I was driving it around with my walkman plugged in and music blasting. It was not pretty but it was awesome! The story about how I got it is even more awesome.

The even cooler thing is that the girl, whose mom and dad gave me the car, reads this blog. I want you to let them know how much it meant to me. I will be always grateful to them for their generosity.

I was living in a tiny, little, minute town with about 12 houses, about 10 minute drive from the town where the University was. I cough the ride up to the Uni every day with the people whose house I was staying at. Then, I had to wait until they were done with work and cough the ride back. I knew the library like the back of my hand - that's where I studied, waited, eyed other international students who had made home there, hung out, sent my emails from, and last but not least - took all my naps on the cushy chairs. See, if it was a different state, there would probably be a bus service, but this town didn't have that luxury, so I was dependent on people who had mercy on me.

It was clear, I really needed wheels. Also, the fact that I had no dough to buy wheels with was very clear.

To be honest, I don't even know what transpired behind the scenes but one day I was told that the parents of my friend are moving to a different state and they are donating their car to a church I was going to and that the church is going to pass the car to me. TO ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
To me that brown little Taurus was cooler than a Mercedes!! This was my new wheels and my independence and my pride and joy! I was so happy!

And it got me through college. At the very end, when I had graduated and the only thing left was my internship, about hour drive from where I lived, the Taurus didn't make it. It kind of ... died... on a highway. I hugged it goodbye. Probably kicked a tire for dying on me and waved it good bye as the truck picked it up to bring it to the car salvage yard.