I'd had a hard childhood. After my mother died, my father became an alcoholic and was unable to take care of my two brothers and me. Through those difficult years, I would talk with the Lord and He comforted me. Jesus has always been with me, but, sad to say, I wasn't always with Him. Hard work brought respectability and material benefits, and those seemed decent goals. But as these pursuits took up more and more of my life, I thought less and less about Jesus. In time, God blessed me with a wonderful husband and two beautiful children.

One day a stranger knocked at my door and talked with me about the Lord. I was really happy to have a Christian friend like him. We kept in touch by mail, and he sent me Christian literature regularly. I enjoyed reading that literature, but I was too busy with the affairs of this world to pay serious attention to its admonitions. Taking care of our shop was my priority. By working long, hard hours, we were able to purchase the things we wanted--a nice car, a fancy TV, music equipment, a computer, etc.

Then one day in October 1988, I got a phone call at the shop. My house was burning! When I arrived home, I could hardly believe my eyes. My home and all the material possessions I'd worked so hard for were going up in smoke. How I wept over these losses as I stood in the street with my children, dressed in the only clothes we had left, and watched the fruits of years of sacrifice be reduced to ashes before my eyes!

Some time later, the company my husband works for set us up in another house. Little by little, we overcame the shock.

When I arrived home, I could hardly believe my eyes! My home and all the material possessions I'd worked so hard for were going up in smoke!

Then one day my best friend from our former neighborhood told me that she had something that belonged to me--something from our house that had burned down. We thought that nothing had survived those flames. What could it be?

Then she produced my Bible. How could that be possible? I had walked through the ruins myself and had seen the very spot where my Bible had been. The bookshelf and all that had been on it--all the other books, the computer, the music equipment and many other valuables--had either been totally consumed by the fire or had been melted and charred beyond recognition.

My friend's husband had been put in charge of checking through the ruins to see if anything was left, she explained, and as he was doing so, something amid the ashes and debris caught his eye--my Bible.

That my Bible was the one thing that survived that inferno was inconceivable. It couldn't have been a coincidence! God was giving me an outstanding message about what He considers really important and long-lasting, and I had to do something about it.

I began to read that Bible regularly, studied the Christian literature my missionary friend kept sending me, and sincerely tried to remodel my life according to God's loving principles.

Today, I am very happy. I have exchanged my material goals for spiritual ones, and now I have a deep hunger for the Lord's Word and ways. My life is now built on His truth, which cannot be touched by flame or calamity. "Heaven and earth will pass away, but My Words will by no means pass away" (Matthew 24:35).

And yes, I still have that Bible today. It's missing its covers and it is a little singed on the edges, but the Word, God's truth, is still there!