How a Pentecostalist church saved a family in the wake of Hurricane Katrina

It was April 20, 2004.

I was a senior at St. John’s Prep School in Houston, Texas, and I was working as a janitor in the cafeteria.

The school was in need of some extra help, so I was asked to go to the local church.

They gave me some money to give to the church’s children.

And then one day, my phone rang.

I didn’t know who it was.

I called the church and told them I needed some help, but the pastor wasn’t home.

I went back to work, but after a couple of days, I got a call from a member of the church saying, “I think my kids are sick.”

She called me a few days later, and asked if I was okay.

“Yeah, they’re really sick.”

I asked if they could bring my kids to a doctor, and they told me no.

I got home and took my kids for tests.

And they said they couldn’t bring my boys because they were so sick.

“They’re so sick,” the pastor said.

“I’m going to have to go over there and get them.”

“What do you mean?”

“They just need to be fed.”

The next morning, I drove down to the Baptist hospital where I worked.

There, the boys were lying on their beds in a room that had a mattress on top of it.

There was a nurse in the room.

I sat with them for a while, and then the nurse took them off the bed and put them in a nurse’s car.

She took me to the next room.

The nurse took me inside.

“What happened?”

I asked.

“Well, they got really sick.

They got really weak.

I think they got in the car and drove away.

And I’m just waiting for them to come home.”

“How can you say this?

Why didn’t you tell us?”

I said.

I wasn’t even able to get to the door.

I started crying, and the nurse started crying too.

She said, “Why did you go there?”

I couldn’t tell her.

“Why didn’t I tell you?”

I started to cry again.

I couldn.

“Because I didn-I was so afraid I would not get to you.

I-I would not talk to you.”

The nurses mom started to sob.

I kept saying, I- I couldn, I couldn- I would.

And she said, I can’t.

I had to be there.

I told her.

I said, You have to come out and hug me.

And the next thing I remember, she’s on her knees hugging me, and she’s crying.

I’m like, You- You- you can’t hug me because I’m sick, because I have a baby.

“Are you OK?”

She said.

She hugged me, too.

“You’re okay?”

I didn and she said she was.

The next thing she remembered was waking up the next morning.

I could not speak.

I thought she was going to kill me.

I woke up, and my wife was in bed next to me, her arms around me.

She was crying, too, and it was terrible.

I saw my little brother.

I just- I thought, “Oh my God, my kids.

My little brother is gone.

I can barely even talk.”

The baby was crying in her arms.

I hugged her.

She- She was sobbing.

I felt so bad, and that’s when I realized, this is a different world, a different God, a totally different world.

I tried to explain to her.

And at first, she just said, This is my church.

She told me, I was praying for them.

I asked, What do you pray for?

She said I prayed for my kids and my husband.

And that’s the first time I realized what was going on.

But that was the first thing I saw.

It was like a switch flipped.

I remember when I came home from work the next day, I didn, I told my wife that I couldn’ t talk to her because I had a bad feeling about this.

She started crying again.

Then I realized that this was the pastor.

The pastor was a member.

And it just made me realize what was happening.

I knew that I needed to tell this pastor because he didn’t have my permission to be a pastor.

And when I did, I went to the police.

When the police came to my door, I showed them what I had told them, and said that the pastor didn’t approve of my children going to a church.

I showed police my car, and one of the officers told me to call the police and tell them to call me, because my kids were sick.

The police officer went over to my wife, who was lying on her bed, and hugged her, and we hugged each other and cried for a few minutes.

The officers told