“Several years ago while I was at home there was a knock at the front door. Upon answering it I was dismayed to see an unkempt and sullen looking girl of about 18 years old standing there. With no manners at all she more or less demanded to use the bathroom. As one of my daughters was in the house, I reluctantly let the girl in and asked my daughter to keep an eye on her.
When she came out I felt pity for her. As she looked so forlorn, I asked her outright, “Why are you so sad?” To make her feel at home I offered her a drink. She accepted the invite and it was then that I realized that she had a can of paint up the sleeve of her baggy cardigan. This was a glue-sniffing street kid I had in my kitchen! She used it all the time she was with us. I did not forbid her to, as this would have driven her away.
After a short time she started to talk about her life. She was the mother of a child and lived with her parents and a “defacto” husband. Her defacto, as she called him, had attempted to murder her and she showed us multiple stab wounds on her abdomen. She had hideous scars, mental and physical!
I was so overcome with pity that I wanted to cry for this poor child. The only one I could think of that could ease her pain was Jesus, so I brought out one of your tracts for her, Somebody Loves Me. She never got past the front cover, because every time she read the title she burst into heavy sobbing, tears streaming down her cheeks.
She knew who loved her —Jesus! She left here with new clothes, a Chick tract and a smile on her face.”