The day the Rasta Man prayed for me!

I was fighting my impulses not to be too much affected by the rebellious nature of the young Rasta man, but it was too ritualistic for me. And so I breathed a prayer which more or less steadied my spirit. I then began to feel a genuine love and respect for the young rebel as deep within I picked up where all his anger was coming from.

 He was doing everything earthly possible to show his disgust for Christians and he did not mince words about it. He made this all the more obvious when he walked out of the conference room before prayer, demonstrating how he really felt about us "hypocrites".

How we became good friends I do not know but there was a deep respect for me flowing from the bowels of the young man that was hard to ignore.

And then came near tragedy! I was struggling to breathe and everyone started praying ... Everyone including the young ras!  Everyone noted this and upon being revived he came over to me as I sat in the wheelchair and whispered: "Mama me love you,"

Honestly,  I really felt loved!