Many years ago, I lived in Costa Rica as a missionary. Each week, we brought God’s truth to the poor children who lived in shacks along a mountainside. The streets were dirt, and there were only specific times that the public buses would make their rounds through that area. The neighborhood was full of crime and we were told not to be there after dark. One day, after a fun, full time of leading Bible schools for the children, we were waiting for the bus to take us back to the San Jose area where we were living. The bus was late, so we passed the time by talking to the children gathered near the bus stop.
I began to talk to a little girl who was about eight years old. I asked her in Spanish if she knew Jesus. She just stared at me with a look of confusion. Thinking that perhaps she misunderstood my pronunciation, I reworded the question. Her face still showed confusion and lack of understanding, and she slowly shook her head and said, “No”. I realized that not only did she not know the Lord as Savior, but she also had never even heard of Him. About that time we heard the bus making its slow progress down the hill. It was the last bus of the day and we could not miss it.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw another little eight-year-old girl that I knew. She faithfully came to our weekly Bible Schools, and I knew that she had a knowledge and love for Jesus. I pulled her aside and quickly asked her if she knew Jesus. She said yes, and then I said, “What do you know about Jesus?”
The sounds of the approaching bus began to get louder and louder, as I listened to my little friend stating all that she knew about Jesus. Just as the bus approached our bus stop, I led my friend to the lost little girl and said, “Tell her everything that you know to be true about Jesus.” I then turned and ran to the bus just before it pulled away from the bus stop.
As I sat in my seat looking out the window, I saw my friend—my little sister in Christ—speaking to the lost girl with diligence and animation. And the lost girl was listening intently to what she said. As the bus pulled away, I was struck by that picture: two little girls, in a sea of poverty, having a conversation that could make an eternal difference in the lives of so many—in that little girl’s life as well as her family, her friends, and the generation to come through her. And all I could do was pray. I was humbled by the fact that it was not about me, anyway. Only the Holy Spirit can convict someone and draw him or her unto the throne of God. And really, anyone can be used as a vessel for the Father to accomplish His great and mighty purposes, even an eight-year-old girl who knew basic truth.