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A story of How Celeste Came to Know God through Her Quest for Truth

Celeste sat on a bench at the bus stop and looked at her wristwatch to see how many minutes she had till the next bus arrived. She pulled out a book on Greek mythology from her bag. Though she wanted to continue reading her book, she couldn’t keep her eyes from wondering away to look at the students and people on the street. She looked down to her school uniform and gazed up at all the other students sharing the same uniform with her. She looked further into the main street as cars rushed by and up to the skyscrapers. Everything she looked at, every person, every car, building and even the mindset of all people seem to share a uniform system. “I can’t be bound to this uniform system, I need to find the Truth,” she thought to herself.

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“What a pretty girl, she looks like a Japanese cartoon character,” Rory looked at her sister as a relative complimented her. She was used to being unnoticed, by relatives and guests who put all their attention on her younger sister. This slowly built up jealousy towards her sister and hate towards her physical make up. Rory hated herself.

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The swing squeaked slightly as the little girl rocked back and forth. She held a book in her right hand, an erotic romance novel she had found lying about the house. Her other hand tightly held onto the chains of the swing. Little did she know the kind of chain that was winding its way around her young mind. Just a few feet away, some women chatted.

“Isn’t she too young to read that kind of book?” Rory heard one woman ask her friend.
“She probably doesn’t know what it’s about anyway,” the other commented.

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Adoniram Judson held his wife to his chest as she sobbed. A young couple devoted to missions, they had not even stepped foot in the nation of Burma, and, already, they were facing the worst possible thing that any expecting parent could imagine. She had lost the baby. The trip from their home in Massachusetts was arduous, where they were finally tossed about by a fierce monsoon in the Bay of Bengal.

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“I can’t see!” Mayo screamed, fumbling through her house to her parents room in their house in Nagaland, India. Her father roused himself from a drunken sleep and ran to her. When his arms wrapped around the body of his six year old daughter, she fell, unconscious, into them. They took her to a doctor, but he couldn’t diagnose her condition. Strangely, by morning, she could see again, so they went home. That night, once again, they heard their daughter’s cries as she came sobbing towards their room. Another doctor, but no answer. Mayo woke every morning with her sight, but as the sun set, blindness struck her.

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“All I ever wanted was to have a happy family! I hated my father. I hated him so much …”

Zaw Tun Shain, from Myanmar, breaks from telling his story with tears streaming down his face, his fingers rubbing hard over the handcrafted “story necklace” he has made to tell the tale of his life.

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Jamez moved his hand under the clothes he had wadded up as a pillow to check for his knife. The jungle was never silent. There was always the constant noise of crickets, cicadas, frogs, and the occasional tramping of unknown animals. One of those animals was coming towards him. He dragged his knife out and held it close to his chest, expecting a boar he knew lived in the jungle around him. Months had passed since Jamez had found himself hiding in a jungle in Malaysia. When he had left his country, Myanmar, he’d never thought refugee life would be so hard. He wondered at that moment, ‘how did I get here?’

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