This is my own life story about how I came to know Jesus,
who told me, and what it has given me today...
it's a story I've never told anyone, but I already feel like
family here. It's a little sad, but I smile on the memory...
When I was growing up, my mom lived with her boyfriend
in a small house in Daytona. She was never around, she slept
all day and worked at night. One day, being a child, I forgot
to take the trash out. I was only in first grade then.
Her boyfriend got mad at me, more than he should have,
and threw a vase on the ground. He was pushing me around
and finally shoved me on the pieces, where I was cut up everywhere.
I was bleeding, and crying, and finally, I ran outside and sat in the
grass next to my house under my bedroom window.
A childhood friend of mine, Steven, saw me and came to my aid.
"What happened to you!? Danielle are you ok??"
I didn't answer, but I told him not to touch me.
He tried to clean my wounds, but I pushed him away.
"Danni, don't give up on people just yet...please"
I let him pick the pieces of glass out of my skin with the tweezers
he brought out, and poured peroxide on my cuts.
"Im here Danni, please don't cry...it wont hurt after awhile."
"I'm not crying because of the pain, I'm crying because my family
dosn't love me...why is that? Why am I not loved?"
"There is someone that loves you...I do, and so does Jesus."
"Who is Jesus", I asked.
"He is God's Son. God created everything, even you and me."
"How about puppies, and fish and plants?"
"He created them too...He sent his Son to Earth, and He died for
us...that's how much He loves us."
"Have I met Jesus?"
and he answered, "No, but He has always known you..."
who told me, and what it has given me today...
it's a story I've never told anyone, but I already feel like
family here. It's a little sad, but I smile on the memory...
When I was growing up, my mom lived with her boyfriend
in a small house in Daytona. She was never around, she slept
all day and worked at night. One day, being a child, I forgot
to take the trash out. I was only in first grade then.
Her boyfriend got mad at me, more than he should have,
and threw a vase on the ground. He was pushing me around
and finally shoved me on the pieces, where I was cut up everywhere.
I was bleeding, and crying, and finally, I ran outside and sat in the
grass next to my house under my bedroom window.
A childhood friend of mine, Steven, saw me and came to my aid.
"What happened to you!? Danielle are you ok??"
I didn't answer, but I told him not to touch me.
He tried to clean my wounds, but I pushed him away.
"Danni, don't give up on people just yet...please"
I let him pick the pieces of glass out of my skin with the tweezers
he brought out, and poured peroxide on my cuts.
"Im here Danni, please don't cry...it wont hurt after awhile."
"I'm not crying because of the pain, I'm crying because my family
dosn't love me...why is that? Why am I not loved?"
"There is someone that loves you...I do, and so does Jesus."
"Who is Jesus", I asked.
"He is God's Son. God created everything, even you and me."
"How about puppies, and fish and plants?"
"He created them too...He sent his Son to Earth, and He died for
us...that's how much He loves us."
"Have I met Jesus?"
and he answered, "No, but He has always known you..."
