Iran · Imprisonment
Forty days in a cell, and a Bible in the lining of my coat
Two men came to my shop on a Tuesday, and I did not come home for forty days. They wanted names. I had many, and I gave none.
What carried me was the small Bible sewn into the lining of my coat. I read it in the dark, a few verses at a time, and I learned that hunger is not the same thing as being abandoned.
A lawyer paid for by people I will never meet stood outside doors I could not see. When I was released, I was told the cost of my case had already been covered. I do not know how to thank strangers for my freedom. I only know how to keep serving.
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