Sabeen

Sabeen's penciled eyebrows raise up into her curly, dark hair. "They're really good? Did you hear that, girls? I did good on my first try! It was like that with my sewing, they said too. Bela, look, see, they turned out good! You can do this too!!" Sipping excitedly on her tea, she passes a necklace to her friend, holding it up in the sunlight. Bela nods at it encouragingly, knowing better than to interupt Sabeen when she's on a roll. Nearby, Farrah beams with motherly pride. Last week she brought her friend, and now she's caught the excitement. "Last week when I went to the hairdresser," Sabeen goes on, "I told her, 'You know, when ever people from our local religion find out that I'm a prostitute, they rant and rave and call me all kinds of bad names, or avoid me. But Farrah took me to these Christians, and they love us! They pray with us and we can feel God! When they prayed for me last week I couldn't stop the tears from running down my cheeks" Her words taper off as she goes for a tissue.

Refilling the tea, we go through her necklaces, one by one. Occasionally we find one that needed a tweak. The mistake is pointed out with encouragement, and Sabeen continues to be upbeat, fixing it immediately. "You know, when I was sewing on Tuesday, I did good too!" she nods with pleasure, "And to think, the most I've ever done was sew on a button. Here I discover I have talent!" She giggles, her wrinkled face brightening like a child's. Bela smiles with her, more and more inclined by her friends enthusiasm.

As we wrap up the project, Farrah pleads, "Last week when you all prayed for us, my week went so well. Could you pray again?" "For me too? Please!" Sabeen adds.

Gladly we gather before the Throne. And once again tears wash Jesus' feet and the Oil of Gladness anoints Him.