In the year 1949, I was a young sailor, stationed aboard a small ship operating in the Pacific. Sunday afternoon, June 12, the little ship dropped anchor in a small cove at Kusaie, one of the Caroline Islands, for the night. It was a beautiful place, and several out-rigger canoes came out to greet us.

I asked if there was a church nearby, and was informed that there was. I readied myself, and some of the natives took me there. The minister was a man from Washington State, and delivered a fine sermon. After services, he ask me to join the men for a prayer service.

A large, dark-skinned native man sat beside me and we held hands as we ask for the continued downpour of God's blessings.

The little ship left the next morning, and I have never been back to that beautiful garden in the western Pacific.

In July, 1985, my wife went through open heart surgery at Letterman Army Medical Center in San Francisco. I sat on a bench outside the recovery room, very frightened. A large, graying, dark-skinned man sat beside me.

"You have a loved one here?" I asked.

"My wife of fifty-one years. You?"

"Yes, my wife," I said.

"Would you pray with me?" he asked.

We held hands and prayed that God would give us guidance for this very stressful time. As we stood, grasping each other's hands, tears in our eyes, talking to God, the nurse came through the door. "Mr. Nance, Mr Appa, you may go in for a short visit if you wish," she said.

I walked through the door and was guided to the bedside of my sweetheart. There were wires and tubes connected to several parts of her body, and machines were whirring away, keeping the spark of life within her. I must have looked shocked, for the attendant placed his hand on my shoulder and said, "Don't worry, Sir. She is doing very well and she will be fine."

The visit over, I went out the door to the waiting area, wiping my eyes. The large man came up behind me and said, "God is with us, isn't he?"

"Yes, He is," I said.

We took each other's hands again and, for the first time, I remembered where I had met him before.

"God answered our prayers the last time we prayed together," he said, "and He did it again!"

Over the following two weeks Mr. Appa and I spent a lot of time together. We made it a point to meet early every day and say a prayer of thanks for those past and present blessings God gives to us.

Mr Appa and his wife returned to their island home, and I have not seen him since. I will someday, that I'm sure of. He and I will meet in a place where we will praise God for ever and ever!
- - - - Tom Nance