My Best Worst Birthday

This is a story about how God’s love shines through the simplest things, and about how my birthday turned from being my worst day in Greece to being my best day in Greece.

This is the story of Yasir’s ring.

It was 3:30 pm on February 10th, I was sitting alone in a coffee shop, I had wandered around the big city alone for hours, and it was raining. Not a great way to spend your birthday.

I had spent all day walking around Mytilini trying to find a rental car. The only reason I was in Mytilini that day was to rent a car, but I just couldn’t find an agency that had a car for me. I had no ride home until 7 pm that evening, so I was stuck in the big city alone, wandering and wet.

I found a coffee shop to sit in and pout, and drank my hot chocolate in silence. My family called me around 2:30 pm, and we talked on video for an hour or so. It was really good to see them, but it was also really hard. I missed my friends, my family, and my home in Kansas City and in Gainesville. I missed the ease of life in America, and my community at Adventures. We hung up the call, and I started to cry a little bit. I didn’t expect life in Greece to take this much out of me.

One of the girls on the Adventures February team, Jhacky, found me in the coffee shop and took me to a community center that we help run. Outside the community center, I met Amin, in his 30s, from Iran and Muhammad, in his 50s, from Syria. We talked about lives (Amin was a teacher and Muhammad worked in a clothing store), their trip to Greece, my trip to Greece, and where they were headed. After a while, we went inside and sat down with a larger group of men and kept talking. I met Ahmad, a 26-year-old graduate student studying higher mathematics in Syria. He taught me Arabic and I embarrassed myself as I learned. Slowly, my mind forgot that it was my birthday and how rough the day had been. I sat with these men, heard their stories, learned their language, and lost track of myself. I was no longer the center of my attention.

Around 5:30 pm they started to gather their things to leave. I helped them gather their things and started to say goodbye to the group of men. Amin turned me to and, pointing to a man I hadn’t met yet, said, “This man wants to know if it’s really your birthday.” I said that yes, it was my birthday, although I still wasn’t excited to admit it. Amin translated for the man, they exchanged a few sentences, and then the man did something that changed my whole trip.

He took off his ring and placed it into my hands.

“No, no, thank you, but I don’t need it!” I responded. I pushed it back into his hands, but he gently smiled and gave it back to me. Again, I said, “No, I can’t take this. This is yours; it’s your ring! I don’t deserve it.” The man would smile humbly, push the ring back into my hands, and turn to leave. After a while, I gave in and took the ring, and he gave a soft smile and started to leave.

“Wait, Amin,” I said, “what is his name?” “Yasir”, replied Amin. “Yasir,” I said as Amin translated, “what is this ring? Tell me about the ring.” Amin and Yasir talked for a little bit and then Amin turned to me. “It is his ring from Damascus,” he said. “His family has had that ring for years, he brought it from Damascus. He wants you to have it for your birthday.”

I froze. I didn’t know what to say. What? This ring? Damascus? His family’s ring?! What?! I did the only thing that came to me; I hugged Yasir, shook his hand, and repeatedly said “Shukran, shukran” (Shukran, or ????, means thank you in Arabic). I was humbled, bewildered, completely caught off guard and caught up in that moment of pure goodness. This ring? Why did he give to me? How could he leave it behind? It was one of the last things he had left from Syria, and the only thing he had from his family. I hadn’t even spoken with him before that! I couldn’t understand it; I could only accept this unmerited gift from a complete stranger. Yasir just wanted to bless my on my birthday.

Yasir, Amin, and the rest of the group began their goodbyes, which were full of hugs and kisses and lasted fifteen minutes. I hugged the group, kissed the men on both cheeks, and set them off towards the ferry to Athens.

(Me, Yasir, Ahmad, and Ahmad’s friend)

I was the happiest person on the island that night. Everything changed in that moment! Yasir didn’t know it, but he showed me God’s love that night in a brand new way for me. He showed me that I mattered, that blessing people is more important than things, and that love is always victorious.

Yasir had nothing. His clothes, backpack, and gear had all been given him. He gave from a place of lacking, and he gave simply, generously, and joyously. He changed everything with that simple act of giving. I now have a piece of his family’s history, and I will never forget the sacrifice that he made for me.

Why am I not more like Yasir? As he gives from a place of nothing, I struggle to give from a place of having many things. I know Jehovah Jireh, God our Provider, and I still hold on to so much. I want to be free in Christ, free to love and free to give.

Yasir is somewhere along the trail of refugees traveling north to Germany. Please pray for him in his journey, that believers along the way will sacrifice for him as he sacrificed for me. Pray for his safety and salvation.

And please pray that I learn to give as Yasir gave.