One day when I lived in India, I was traveling down the East
Coast by train. I often made that trip. It took 27 hours including an
overnight, on the “Coromandel Express”
passenger train.
I was in the state of Andhra Pradesh heading south. The
Coromandel used to stop along the way to drop passengers and pick up waiting
ones. On this day I was almost alone in my small 8 person section of the coach.
About mid-day we stopped at one of the typical stations. Hawkers sold coffee,
tea, snacks, and numerous other things. There was a din of voices as they
shouted, “Chai, chai, chaiya, kofee,
kofee, kofeeeee!”
A young boy entered my compartment, looked at the seat
numbers, and sat down opposite me. We nodded to each other and said no more. We
were both by the window, and no one else was in our section. After a few
minutes, the long train began to roll forward toward south India and my
destination of Chennai.
We rode for a while in silence.
At some point I started up a conversation with him. The boy,
about 12 years old, spoke very good English. He was a Muslim. He was heading
somewhere to do something, I don’t really remember. He was not going too far,
relatively speaking for an Indian train. I think he was going to be traveling
for 3-4 hours and would be getting off in another town in the same state of
Andhra Pradesh.
I asked him questions about his family, his school, and
other things. He asked me where I was from, what I was doing in India, how did
I like India.
At some point, I asked him about
his religion. He answered my questions about his Islamic beliefs and practices.
He was very articulate.
Then it came my turn. I spoke to
him about Jesus and how he had changed my life after I began to read the Bible
in college.
To be honest, I don’t remember a
lot of the conversation details. There was nothing said that
stands out in my memory.
What I do remember vividly, is that
this 12 year old was captivated by what I said about Jesus. It was
magical. I believe the Holy Spirit was in that compartment. It was natural,
not forced, not striving in any way. Just a relaxed, friendly exchange of ideas. We both talked. We both listened. Oh my, he listened! He was absorbing it! That is my outstanding memory of this
event. I knew that what I was saying was piercing into his soul and mind. Light
from above! I did not attempt to “lead
him in a sinner’s prayer.”
Finally the train rolled to a stop.
He gathered his things and got up. We shook hands and he got out. I encouraged
him to learn more about Jesus if he got a chance. On the platform he looked up
and we waved and realized how cool those moments had been.
The train moved ahead. I never saw him again.
I’ll never forget the magic of that
conversation.
