My missing piece

My story

My name is Lily. I don't know why my mama named me Lily, but I guess I will never know. Ever since my mother passed, my father and I haven't been the same. Father started coming home drunk and abusive. I never understand why alcohol makes a person go crazy. My father and I live in a broken-down house that only I tend to; father has just given up, I guess. I go to school and I am always the quiet one. I feel like I am never heard or seen, as if I were completely invisible. I try in school, but it seems different how people learn faster than me and understand it better. Ever since I was a little girl, I always wanted to be smart, but I can never focus. I just sit in my room all day reading or writing. My mama said that makes you smarter, but it's clearly not working. All I'm known as is a failure to my whole family except mama. Mama loved me for who I was.

As i get ready for school the next day I grab my backpack and begin to head out, walking past the kitchen and skipping breakfast because I know all we have is alcohol in the fridge. I leave the house and head to another school day. As I left, I noticed an older gentleman on the street who was clearly homeless. I felt bad, knowing that could be me and my father one day. I rummaged through my bag, trying to find a dollar to give him. "Yes!" I say as I find a dollar. I walk over to him and hand him the dollar. The older gentleman was happy, but as I walked away, he said, "God bless you." I turn to him, confused. I had never heard of this God he speaks of, so I asked, "God?" The older gentleman looks at me and says, "Yes, God, our Lord and Savior." I was obviously very confused about this "God" he was speaking of, yet curious.

I then walk away and have a weird feeling as if I was being "touched," and I felt something in my heart that made me walk back to that older gentleman and ask more about this "God." The older gentleman was happy that I was asking about this, and during the rest of the time I was there, I found out who God is.

I noticed my father was downstairs the very next day, and I ran to him, asking why he hadn't told me about this amazing God. He responds with, "God?" I say, "Yes, God!" He replies, "Oh honey, I don't know if our family believes any of that stuff." I say, "Well, I do. You need to hear about God and His plans for us and our future!" That day, I told my father about God and what He has for us, and my father felt that spark I did when I was talking to that older gentleman.

Ever since that day, which was five years ago today, my father and I have gotten closer to Jesus Christ and even started our own church. My father stopped doing drugs, alcohol, and cigarettes ever since that day when Jesus Christ Himself touched him.