The Friday afternoon sky was gray, and the ground was soggy from several days of rain. The coconut palms waved their branches in the wind. Seeing our friend, Ruth, searching our yard for fallen coconuts, I went out to chat with her. Sago with coconut milk and greens would be her contribution to the church lunch in Kotale the next day. Ruth’s husband has been away in Port Moresby for two and a half years. She has been praying earnestly for him to return, but at times it seems to her that her prayers don’t get beyond her thatched roof. This was one of those times. Does God really hear my prayers? she wondered to herself.

The previous Sunday, I had cleaned my bedroom and found several articles of clothing I no longer needed. I set them aside to give to Ruth, hoping she could find homes for them. Now, standing by her side, I remembered the clothing and ran inside to get them. When I placed the folded garments in her hands, she looked at me, surprised. “Oh Johanna!” she exclaimed. “All of mine are still hanging on the line, wet. With nothing dry to wear, I was afraid I would have to stay home from church tomorrow. But I prayed about it. Then you gave me these—just what I needed!” Her face glowed with amazement. To her, this was a clear indication that God does hear her prayers.

I feel good knowing that God used me to help strengthen Ruth’s faith.

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