It was 5:45 P.M., and Mom and I were on a bus in São Paulo on our way to the airport. At 10:00 we would be boarding a plane to Washington Dulles airport, and be on our way home! I was looking forward to seeing my home again, though I was sad to leave Brasil.
I read a book; but soon it got too dark and I listened to music. The night was dark, though on a 6 lane highway there are plenty of car lights. My thoughts wandered, and I thought about the recent bus strikes.
When the standard bus fare was raised 20 cents (about 9 US cents), people all over São Paulo protested in the streets, and there were even a few riots. I didn't know much about it then, but now I know that President Dilma had to call an emergency meeting about the strikes to solve the situation.
I yawned, thanked God that I wouldn't need to worry about strikes since I was going back home, and nodded off to sleep.
'CRACK!' I sat up quickly, looking around. It sounded like a gunshot! Exclamations filled the bus, and people sat up, startled. I looked to my right, and a few seats ahead on the other side of the bus, a whole window was cracked!
"What's going on??" "Is everyone okay?" A little girl who had been sitting right next to the broken window started crying, and people helped the girl and her mother out of their seats and into other ones. The seats were covered in broken glass, although the whole window had not collapsed.
Some speculated that it had been a piece of metal, others said it was a gunshot. But most thought it to be a rock. A little more investigation, and a man nearby found a hole in the upper part of the window, and soon the mother of the little girl found the rock in the aisle.
The lady sitting in front of us had turned around and was commenting with us the whole time about how terrible the economy was, and about the bus strikes. She told us news story after news story about buses and guns and murders. I didn't feel so safe anymore!
Then I started thinking. What if we had gotten seats on the other side of the bus? What if the person had thrown the rock a split second later, and it had shattered our window? Or what if the rock hadn't just fallen in the aisle, but hit the girl or her mother, or in the above possibilities, us? I was immediately overwhelmed with thankfulness and joy. Thank God that it happened the way it did! No one was hurt; not even with a scratch. I believe God protected us in the bus that night.
Jesus is coming soon! Please join me praying for not only Brazilians, but the many other countries, including ours, who need Jesus.