Long, dark hair flowing behind her, a little girl pedaled past our house on her bicycle. Looking out the window, Hope saw her pass by. “Mommy, may I go outside and ride my bicycle with her?”

“Sure,” I said, and Hope quickly ran out to meet the girl.

Her name was Beat, and she was six years old. Hope and Beat became fast friends. They rode their bicycles together and played in our yard. Beat even brought some of her toys over to play with Hope. It was a blessing to see Hope enjoying the company of another little girl her age.

Beat lives in the house next to us, but after the first day she and Hope played together, we didn’t see her again for a couple days. Hope said, “Mommy, I’m worried that Beat is sick. Or maybe she moved. I’m worried.”

Early the next morning, though, Beat rang our doorbell. She had to go to school during the day, but in the evening she came back and played with Hope and Haven again. Eventually they all came inside to play with some dough I had made for dinner.

They sat at the table and played for a while, and then Beat got up and ran toward the front door for something. As she ran, her foot caught under the skirt of our sofa, and she fell to the floor, hitting her head.

Robbie and I both heard Beat fall and rushed to see what had happened. She was lying on the floor. When I first saw her she was barely moving, but then she started to groan and cry. I asked her where she had hit, and then I saw a knot as big as a ping pong ball on the side of her head.

Robbie picked her up, and we all accompanied him to her home. Her father came out and we told him what had happened. He set her down in the house, and she went limp and fell to the floor. He helped her up to sit on a couch, and we went to get some ice.

We suggested that Beat might need to go to the hospital, but her father said, “It’s okay, it’s okay.”

“Please let us know if there is anything we can do to help,” I said as we left.

The chirps of crickets and humming of mosquitoes was the only sound as we walked home in silence, thinking and praying for Beat. It was the first time she had come into our house, and she had been injured. Would she be okay? Did she have a concussion?

After putting the kids to bed that night, I walked back over to our neighbor’s house. I rang the doorbell and waited. No answer. I rang the doorbell again and called, “Hello?” Still, no answer.

As I had walked over to their house, I had seen Beat through the window, sitting on the floor. But I still wanted to make sure she was okay. I rang the doorbell one more time. I heard footsteps, the screen door opened, and Beat came out on the front porch.

“Are you feeling better?” I asked.

“Yes, I’m feeling better,” she replied quietly.

“Does your head still hurt?”

“A little,” she murmured.

Her father followed her out onto the porch. “We put some ice on her head, and it’s getting better, but she can’t remember what happened to make her hit her head.”

“I’m so glad you’re feeling better!” I told Beat.

Walking back home, I thanked Jesus for watching over Beat and helping her recover from her injury so quickly. I also thanked Him for protecting our relationship with our neighbors. We want our neighbors and friends to feel that our house is a place of safety and a haven from harm. Please pray that our home will continue to be a place others feel comfortable visiting, and that Beat will not have any lasting effects from her fall. Thank you so much for your prayers and support for our work here in Thailand.

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