| Bill Wilson builds Sunday schools in some of New York City's worst areas. He has
been stabbed and shot, and had team members killed. A Puerto Rican lady who
could barely speak English said to him one day, 'I want to do something for God,
please.' Bill said, 'Okay, ride a different Sunday school bus every week and just
love the kids.' So she rode a different bus-Bill has dozens of them-and loved
the children. After several months she became attached to one little boy. 'I don't
want to change buses any more. I want to stay on this one,' she told Bill. The boy
came to Sunday school every week with his sister and sat on the lady's lap, but
never made a sound. She would repeatedly tell him, 'I love you, and Jesus loves
you.' One day to her amazement, he turned around and stammered, 'I...love you
too.' Then he gave her a big hug. That was at two-thirty on a Sunday afternoon.
At six-thirty that night the boy was found dead in a dumpster under a fire escape.
His mother had beaten him to death and thrown his body in the trash. 'I love you,
and Jesus loves you.' Those were some of the last words that little boy heard in
his short life-from the lips of a Puerto Rican woman who could barely speak
English. Bill says, 'Who among us is qualified to minister? Who among us even
knows what to do? Not you; not me. But I ran to an altar once and got some fire
and just went. So did this woman who couldn't speak English. And so can you.'
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