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Hopeless people with not a glimmer of light on the horizon but for a day—a moment—we placed our arms around them and gave them hope. If only for a hour, someone from the out- side world who cared stood in their presence and touched them with love. I Can Never Forget… By Kathy Parks A (team member) rmenia to me—apartment buildings full of refugees hungry for their own copy of God's Word. Armenia— unheated school rooms full of children, college-age stu- dents who snap to attention by standing to their feet as the principal enters. The memory is still fresh with being mobbed in the market- place as children and adults alike aggressively reach for a New Testament. I can never forget traveling to earthquake areas and seeing only shells of buildings where apartments for hundreds of people once stood. 10 • NATIONS Now the people make their homes in metal shipping contain- ers in which they received hu- manitarian aid. It was in one such area that I saw an elderly lady rushing down the hill. We had just canvassed the area handing out Bibles and were getting ready to board the bus and go to another location. The lady was looking frantically from one person to the next. She had not gotten a Bible. I gladly handed her one. Her emotion overwhelmed her. No words would come as she clutched it in both hands to her heart. Then as she looked at me a tear slid down her cheek. I reached out my arms to her and she laid her head on my shoulder. We both wept together. We stood for a few mo- ments, then she silently turned to walk back the way she had come with... hope clutched in her hands.