Rose was a young woman living in Chicago and a mother to two young daughters. A few years previously, in 1959, she and her husband, Elias, had immigrated to the United States from Amman, Jordan.
Years earlier, before they were married, Elias’s parents and siblings left Israel to live in Amman, Jordan during the uprising of 1948. Rose was living in Nazareth when Elias asked for her hand in marriage. Although Rose lived in Israel, she was of Arab descent. She moved to Jordan for the wedding. After a few years, when Rose and Elias immigrated to the states, they left most of their extended families behind.
In those early days of living in a new and strange country, Rose struggled to learn English. When her daughters were a bit older, one seven and the youngest one 5, both in school and occupied, Rose went to work to help meet the financial needs of the family. Finding employment at a dry cleaner, she spent her days ironing other people’s clothes after they’d been washed. She would then fold them meticulously as the owners had taught her, preparing the garments for payment and pickup. This job was a good fit for her, providing money without requiring her to be fluent in English.
Elias and Rose lived in an apartment on the third floor of a building. The accommodations were tight with the four of them in the tiny apartment. They were saving money to eventually purchase a home of their own, one with more bedrooms and space for their family to grow. They had plans to have more children eventually.
Those days were busy, parenting her daughters, working during the day, buying groceries, taking care of the home and cooking for her family. Life was full and satisfying. During that time, a niggling desire began to grow in Rose’s heart. She longed for something from her homeland, something she had not thought to buy or bring before immigrating.
One day, after putting the girls to bed, Elias and Rose were in their bedroom talking.
Rose said, “I so wish I had a Bible in Arabic. I know they sell Bibles here in America, but I can’t read them. I don’t know of any store here that would sell an Arabic Bible.”
Elias looked thoughtful and shook his head. “No. All the books I’ve seen here are in English.”
“Is there any way we could get one?”
Deep in thought, Elias finally said, “I could contact my relatives living in Jordan, ask them to purchase one and mail it to us.”
“How much would that cost?” Rose said, her forehead crinkling in concern. They didn’t have much extra money to spare, not with saving for a house. Purchasing a Bible would be a luxury, not a necessity. And yet to push away this yearning and ignore it was impossible.
“I can’t imagine it would be cheap,” Elias said.
Rose simply stared at her husband in longing.
“I’ll see what I can do.”
Rose nodded, a faint hope blooming in her chest. But she knew it would be weeks, maybe months before she’d have the privilege of holding a precious Bible in her hands. The desire for this treasured book had grown until she knew she could no longer live without the life-giving scriptures that would encourage and strengthen her spirit. Not having a Bible seemed as though a spiritual drought had befallen her. Her soul was parched and longing for a good drink of living water.
Early the next morning, Rose got up and prepared for the day. When she walked to the bus stop, the sun had not yet made its grand entrance and the landscape was covered in dark hues and shadows. Eventually the bus arrived, she ascended the few steps, retrieved her bus pass and took a seat. Watching the obscure Chicago cityscape whiz by beside her, the only sources of light were streetlights and the glow from lit windows of various shops and buildings. When the bus arrived at her stop, she exited and began the walk to the cleaning store.
The skyline in the distance was gradually growing more incandescent as the sun rose to meet the horizon. A cool breeze wafted over Rose and she wrapped her arms around herself as she picked up the pace. Suddenly a man walked up beside her, matching her gait.
Rose glanced over and noticed the stranger looking at her.
He smiled and said, “I have something for you.” Taking a book from his bag, he handed it over.
“I don’t have any money with me. I can’t buy your book.”
“No. I don’t want any money. I’m giving this to you. You can have it.”
Uncertainty filled her chest. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” the man said with a nod. “Take it, read it and enjoy.”
“Thank you,” Rose said, sticking the book into her purse as the man strode ahead with purposeful steps.
Rose was grateful for the safety she felt in this city. Chicago’s streets and sidewalks were filled with good people. But never had she been given a book before by a total stranger. This was a first.
When Rose reached the shop, she entered the back room, the one reserved for the workers, took off her coat and placed her purse into the cubby reserved for her personal items. Before grabbing her work apron, she reached into her purse to see what type of book the man had given her.
The volume was fairly thin and the cover was black leather. Opening the spine and allowing the pages to flop open, she stood spell bound and in shock. Arabic words stared back at her and she instantly knew that what she held in her hands was what her heart had been longing and dreaming for. Flipping through the pages quickly, she realized that what she’d been gifted was an Arabic New Testament.
“How could this have happened?” she whispered to no one but herself. Lifting her eyes to the ceiling, she quietly said, “Thank you God!”
As she donned her apron and went to work, her heart warmed every time she thought of the book tucked into her purse in the back room. God had heard the desire of her heart. And he had provided in such a miraculous way. Joy and shock kept washing over her in waves and she couldn’t wipe the smile from her lips as she worked. Her labor seemed lighter and the struggles of this new life, in this new land, seemed less harsh and foreboding. God had heard her. He was near, providing and taking care of her.
At the end of the day, she couldn’t wait to talk to Elias and tell him what had happened. When he heard the story, utter surprise and shock filled his face.
“That is astounding! And you’ve never met this man before?”
“No,” Rose said with a broad smile and a twinkle in her eye.
“It’s a miracle!”
“It surely is. God heard my heart’s cry and he provided me with a Bible I can read.”
Elias nodded as a smile slowly spread across his features.
They both understood how unlikely it was for this event to have played out the way it did. They were both convinced that they’d encountered another miracle from heaven. God heard Rose’s prayer and sent an angel her way, an angel wearing a heavenly smile and handing over the very thing that would lift her spirits and feed her soul.
Note: Rose and Elias are Nadia F.’s parents. They shared this story with Nadia and her siblings quite often. This was one of numerous supernatural testimonies of God’s faithfulness in their family.
Submitted by: Nadia F.
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Once we get to Heaven and God shows us a reel of our life, we will discover how many times we were rescued, protected or redirected by supernatural means. What a divine privilege it is that, during our time on earth, God gives us snapshots into the supernatural realm, unusual happenings that announce that Heaven is present and involved in our lives.
For he will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways.
Psalm 91:11
If you would like to share a personal story of supernatural protection or angelic activity in your history, please reach out. Private message me on Facebook messenger or email me and I will explain the details. I would love to share your testimony on my blog as an encouragement to others. As it says in Hebrews 3:13, Encourage one another daily, as long as it is called ‘Today’.
