This week, our pastor introduced us to an older couple, Nicolai (67) and Tamara (65) Hautea, who needed some work to be done. We chopped and stacked two winters worth of firewood to keep them warm. (keep in mind, they have no electricity, heat, running water, telephone, etc.)
The girls in my group, Cinthia, Bethsaida, Amanda, and I, decided to sit down for a while and get to know the couple. This is when God really tore my heart into pieces. Nicolai began to tell us about himself as he sat on his bed with a small table in front of him, sewing a rug. Men don’t sew in Moldova, so this was strange to us, but as he went on, we understood why he was sewing. As Nicolai aged, his muscles slowly started to get weaker and it became harder for him to do farm work, which is what he had done his entire life. 15 years ago, he got into a motorcycle accident, and broke both of his arms and legs. He was unable to seek proper medical attention, and the effects have burdened him to this day. He is unable to walk, and he cannot lift his hands above his head. Sewing was one of the only activities he could do with his hands, in bed.
Tamara, his wife, is almost fully blind, yet she cooks, cleans, and takes care of Nicolai. She baths him, and clothes him. It is very hard for Tamara to lift Nicolai, so he doesn’t move from his bed very often.
Tamara and Nicolai once had 5 children. 3 girls, all of which died of diseases, and 1 boy that died at birth, leaving them with one son, who is still alive, and lives with them. His name is Peter. (Peter has a daughter, Aurica (11 yrs) with a woman that he doesn’t live with or see anymore. Aurica is taken care of by Tamara and Nicolai. She excels in school, helps her grandparents, and reads the bible to them often.)
Peter is an alcoholic. He helps his mother and father when he is sober, but when he is drunk, he screams and cusses at them. This happens almost on a daily basis. He doesn’t spend much time with his daughter because of his drinking habits. Both Tamara and Nicolai asked us to pray that he will overcome his alcoholism.
Nicolai informed us that when their son, Peter, was 20 years old, he joined the army. When the army was in Russia for training, 12 of the people, including himself, were sold as slaves. 4 of those men were shot, and murdered, while 8 of them managed to escape and make their way back to Moldova. Peter was one of them that escaped, but when he came back, all of the families looked down upon him and wondered why their sons were killed, yet Peter was still alive. Peter felt guilty and burdened by this. He started drinking, and hasn’t quit since. He couldn’t let it go, or get the images out of his mind.
I asked Nicolai what his number one dream was, in life. He told us that it was to live to see his Granddaughter, Aurica, succeed, have a family, and be happy. While we were stacking wood that day, I had an opportunity to talk to their son Peter (the alcoholic). I asked him what his ultimate dream was; he said it was to see his daughter, Aurica, succeed. I told him this was his father’s dream as well. I noticed a tear run down Peter’s cheek. I wasn’t sure he had saw dust in his eye, or if I had really just made this 43- year- old man tear up. I then asked him if he went to church, and he said no, because he smokes, and the people of the church don’t like smokers. I told him that God doesn’t care that he smokes – he loves him the same as everyone else, and that it doesn’t matter what the other people think. As we continued stacking wood, I told him how intrigued I was by his parents, that his father is handi-capped, and his mother is nearly blind, overcame the loss of 4 children, yet they are still filled with joy, and their faith in Christ is still so strong. I also told him that his parents told me how he was such a hard worker, and they are happy to have him around. Peter again started to tear up. I was sure it wasn’t saw dust this time. He told me that his parents are great people, and he loves helping them. As the tears rolled down his face, I could see that God was speaking to him. I asked if he would come to church with us on Sunday. I told him to ignore the people that he felt judged by, and that he could sit by me, and the rest of our group. He smiled, and agreed to come. I made him pinky promise that he would come. I told him it was an American tradition to pinky promise, and that if he broke it, I would be very upset with him. He laughed, and told me he would be sure to make it.
As we walked home that day, I asked the pastor if Peter ever comes to church. The pastor said that he has only been to church once before.
I’m not sure what gave me the courage to talk to him, or how I came up with the right words to say, but I’m pretty sure God had something to do with it.
