Mina slouched in her seat, staring at her shoes. How did she get here? She snuck a glance at the others staggered in a rough circle of folding metal chairs. She’d been at Hope House for ten days, but this was her first group session. The last week had been pure torture, but the withdrawal symptoms were improving. Sure, some had tried to engage her, but the only thing she had it common with these people was her addiction. Not something she wanted to think about, but what else was there to do in this place?
            Linda entered the room, and the chatter stopped. “Before we get started today, you can take a few minutes to yourselves, since the mail’s here.”
            An excited buzz filled the air as Linda passed out envelopes. Mina folded her arms across her chest. There would be no mail for her. When Linda approached her seat and handed her an envelope, she shook her head. “Nobody’s writing to me.”

            Linda’s lips curved into a smile. “This letter is most definitely for you.” She turned the envelope to face her. “No other Mina’s in the place.” She laid the letter in Mina’s lap and continued passing out envelopes like a teacher at an elementary school Valentine’s party.

            Mina stared at the letter for a full minute before she tore it open.

            Mina,

            You don’t know me, but I hope that will change. I’m sorry you’ve found yourself in the need of Hope House, but I’m confident you will be a changed woman by the time your stay is over.

            My name is Sandra. I’m praying for you every day. You may think no one cares, but you’re wrong. You are a special child of God, Mina, and even though you may have made some mistakes in your life and disappointed people around you, God has never given up on you. I believe in you. You can beat this.

            I’ll write to you regularly during your stay at Hope House. I’d love if you’d write to me in return, but that is your decision. Regardless of whether I hear from you, you’ll continue to hear from me.

            I’m sure you’re feeling angry and isolated. You may still be in the initial stages of withdrawal. It will get better. Every day is another day closer to your goal. If you’ll allow me to give one piece of advice, it would be to reach out to those around you. It’s easy to wall yourself off and believe you’re alone, but you’re not. The people there understand what you’re going through and are there to help.

            Take care, and remember, I’m praying for you. The staff will send me your letters if you’d like to write. Turn the page over when you need to read some encouraging Bible verses.

                                    God bless you,

                                    Sandra

            Mina folded the letter and slid it back into the envelope. She was not in the mood to read Bible verses from some crazy stranger. Her brain swirled, trying to process what she’d read. She risked a glance upward and found everyone staring at her.

            “What?”

            Linda smiled. “Everyone is curious what you think of the letter.”

            “I don’t understand,” Mina said.

            The woman to her right spoke. “I didn’t either.” She nodded toward the letter in Mina’s hand. “I didn’t read the Bible verses until about the third or fourth letter.” She smiled. “Now Sandra’s letters are the highlight of my week.” Several others nodded.

            Mina stared at them, incredulous. “You mean, this woman writes to everyone here? How does she even know?” Anger welled inside her. “I thought this was confidential!”
            Linda’s soothing voice washed over Mina. “Sandra knows nothing about you except your entrance date and your first name. She has no way of contacting you outside of this facility or even what state you are from.”

            “But why is she writing to us?” Mina asked.

            “You’ll have to ask her yourself,” Linda said. “Now let’s start our session.”

                                                                                   ****

            The weeks passed and more letters came. Between the letters and the counselling sessions, Mina found herself able to explore the reasons that caused her to turn to substance abuse. After the first month, she began returning letters to Sandra, telling her things she’d never shared with anyone before.

            One day at lunch, the conversation turned to Sandra, as it often did.

            “What do you know about Sandra?” Mina asked her roommate, Tanya.

            “She’s a miracle sent from God.” Tanya said. “She told me God called her to serve the women in this facility.” Tanya shrugged. “When I get out of here, I’m going to visit her.”

            Others around the table nodded in agreement. “Even before I go see my family, I’m going to visit Sandra.”

            Mina studied the faces of the women around the table. These were women of all races, of all ages and walks of life, but they agreed on Sandra.

            “When you get released, Linda will give you Sandra’s address. It’s up to you what you do with it,” Tanya said.

            As the months passed, Mina grew, not only as a person, but in her faith. Her correspondence with Sandra explored her past and gave her hope for the future.

            Finally, it was time for Mina to leave Hope House. She hugged her friends goodbye and vowed to keep in touch, just as she had with those who had left before her. When she said her last goodbye, Linda handed her one final envelope.

            “You know who this is from. Congratulations. We’re all so proud of you.”

            Mina ripped open the letter, and tears blurred her vision as she read a similar message from Sandra. She skimmed the letter through to the end where she found the address she was looking for. She turned to Linda. “She’s local?”

            Linda smiled. “Makes the choice easy, doesn’t it? She’s only about twenty minutes away from here. Shall I call for a ride?”
            “Does everyone visit Sandra when they leave?”

            Linda nodded. “It’s practically part of the graduation ceremony by now. You don’t have to visit her, but you’ll regret it for the rest of your life if you don’t. You’ll never understand her fully until you meet her.”

            Mina’s stomach twisted. She’d been looking forward to this day for months. Now, the idea of meeting Sandra overwhelmed her. Until this point, Sandra was only handwriting on a page. Handwriting that changed her life and introduced her to a God who loved her, but still…

            “Yes, Linda, please call for a ride. I need to meet her.”

                                                                                ****

            Mina stood in front of the small, well-kept cottage, heart pounding. She wiped her palms on her pants, sucked in a deep breath, and rang the doorbell.

            “It’s open,” a female voice called.

            It was now or never. Mina pushed open the door. Her eyes traveled the room and landed on the woman seated in a recliner, a wheelchair at her side. The coffee table was set with a tea kettle and a plate of cookies. Mina’s eyes traveled from Sandra’s warm smile down to her missing arm and shriveled legs. “You’re Sandra?”

            Sandra cocked her head. “I am. It’s so nice to meet you, Mina. Sit down and have a cup of tea.” At Mina’s hesitation, she grinned. “I take it I’m not what you were expecting?”

            Mina shook her head and lowered herself into the chair opposite Sandra.

            “I’ve had several meetings now, and you’re all surprised. Enjoy the tea and cookies and I’ll tell you my story.”

            Mina poured a cup of tea but it was soon forgotten as Sandra’s voice filled the small room.

            “Thirteen years ago, I was a normal young mother. I lived with my husband and my three-year-old daughter. One night we were in a terrible accident. The driver had both drugs and alcohol in her system.”

            Mina stared at Sandra, unbelieving. She started to speak, but Sandra held up her one good hand. “Let me finish, and then you can ask all the questions you want.” She took a sip from her cup and continued. “My husband and daughter were killed instantly, but I somehow survived. I lost my arm and my ability to walk, but I’m still here today.” Her voice caught for a moment, but she swallowed hard. “I begged God to take my life. I thought about ending it all, but something stopped me. I came to understand God spared my life for a reason.”

            Sandra closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, she fixed them on Mina. “I’m not proud of that time in my life. I spent those months in rehab recovering from my physical injuries, but my heart was full of hate. I hated the woman who did this to me. I hated drugs, I hated alcohol, and I hated anyone who used them, but God changed my heart. One day I let go of the hatred. I told God if He had a plan for me, I needed to know what it was. He gave me the mission of befriending women just like the one who took everything from me. I can’t do much,” Sandra gestured toward her feeble frame, “but I can pray, and I can write.”

Dear Lord, there are so many people in the world who need to hear Your message of hope. Please help us walk in the calling You have for us. Please help us love others, no matter the circumstances. In Jesus’ name, Amen.