By Monday morning, on her private early dawn walk, Ruthe still considered backing off this new adventure trail, however, she knew with a growing insight, that she had to go check on that woman. At least once.

What if she has no home to go to? What if she was scared out of her wits? All morning, as she wrote her chemistry exam, these questions haunted her.

Lord, I'm scared of him too, but I have an advantage; I can pray and expect You to deliver me. That short young woman with the shiny black hair probably can't. The reasonable, mature thing to do was to check out the aftermath of Saturday evening, perhaps even with the police. Ruthe winced, but she knew that sometimes doing right costs.

As soon as her exam was done, Ruthe could leave. She threw her resolve to remain anonymous away, and her tightly budgeted studying time too. She told her mother she had to drive into Saskatoon a couple of hours before her evening shift. She did not say why.

When she was thirteen, Ruthe had stumbled on a profound thought. If she hid from one crisis, there would be sure to be others to cow her into a corner. That was not how she meant to live her life. On that premise she had begged her dad not to pick up and move just because he felt the neighbours did not like him in Kleinstadt. He had never said she had changed his mind, but Ruthe was relieved when he dropped the idea. This connected in her mind. She was going to follow through on what she had started the previous Saturday.

The woman sitting on the hospital bed did not recognize her, so Ruthe made a self-conscious face and introduced herself as, "the person who brought you here on Saturday night." She added offhandedly, "early evening, actually."

That olive complexion looked paler against the blue pillow and sheets. Now that Ruthe looked closer, the woman seemed much younger. But the expression was hard and old.

"By the way, my name's Ruthe. Yours?" she asked, shifting her weight back to her left foot uneasily.

"That's the idea," said the conscientious intern, swinging through the door on rubber soles. "Get her personal data and next of kin, will you? She's refused to help us out. Not a word."

Ruthe gave a startled look at the dimple man. She turned back to the woman.

"A-, I wasn't sure- what happened. What did I do? Them #@$%& cops don't need nothin' on me!"

Ruthe turned to show Dr. Davie her own dimpled left cheek. "Would you excuse us a bit," she asked softly, "while I censor the facts?"

He dimpled right back. "Sure, Angel o' Mercy. I trust you. D'sooner d'better." He left with a good-natured whistle.

Ruthe pulled up the cheap guest chair beside the bed. "Now, I'm just an ordinary, rather naive country girl, who cares about people."

The patient turned to face her directly. "Yeah. Y'look like a softy. Y'don't want to know the @#$ #$%& mess."

"You matter to me. Maybe more than you'll ever know."

"The cops said you bopped ol' Beresford on the head and rolled him under the bed, then you dragged me down those @#$* #$%@ stairs. Did you really?"

Ruthe grinned sheepishly, moving her chin around as if undecided on an expression to wear. "It was hard on the nerves. But we got away, didn't we?"

"Then it's true? You saved my life? I remember him tying a towel around my neck." She motioned dramatically as if yanking something tighter around her throat. Now the patient wanted to know all the details again from Ruthe, especially if the cops had anything to put herself in jail.

"As far as I know, they see you only as a victim of a strangler. Privately they may think you were dumb to be there in the first place, but no, I don't think they put you in jail for being the victim."

There was a deep sigh, so Ruthe asked for her name again.

"Okay. My name is Darlene. Darlene Bonne Barrett to be exact. I'm sixteen. I, -okay, so it was sort'a my fault. I was workin' my way through all the Johns in school, from Z to A, when this little Jamie runt sic-ed his big brother on me. How was I to know he was psycho?"

Ruthe listened in growing amazement as Darlene spilled out the ugly story of her life. Despite her broad-minded reading, she had never come across anything quite so awful. Do people really do such things? Does a prostitute mother really not know better than to show her daughter such vile, immoral acts?

No wonder Darlene was afraid she might have done something to put her in jail. Lord, now that I know all this, do I have to report her? Immediately Ruthe felt reassurance within her spirit that she had only to care and help as opportunity might arise. She decided what Darlene needed most was to experience God's forgiveness in Jesus Christ.

"I hate my life!" Darlene ended her story. "I sort of wish that #$@%@& #$%*+ pervert had killed me."

A slight gasp escaped Ruthe's lips. She ached, how she ached for this girl. Their eyes locked a moment, but Darlene pulled hers away.

"@#$%@! It feels like you're pourin' maple syrup on me!"

"Sorry- I...." Ruthe wished she wouldn't swear so; it made her feel dirty.

"The #$% school counsellor broke into a @#$ @#$%@#$% when I told her a bit of my @#$ @#$$@@#$."

"I might be different," Ruthe answered slowly. "I hurt as if all that stuff has just happened to me. But I wonder how much you would change if you gave the Lord Jesus a chance to re-make your life."

"Oh, I tried to turn over a new leaf," she said hastily. "@$$#, I've tried a million times! Nobody ever believes me! An' before I know it, there I am, my old $%#& self again."

A stab of pain hit the left half of Ruthe's chest. How hopeless it must feel.

Darlene swore viciously again and snorted threatening tears back up her nose. "It's all no #$$ use!"

"I know," agreed Ruthe. "It's perfectly impossible to start our life over without slipping back into the old wicked ways. None of us can do it. But listen, Darlene, I do know of a fool proof way to get help. If you don't mind trusting someone bigger and far better, you can live a new life and keep it for good."

"You're kiddin'! There's no way. Nobody...." but her voice trailed off as she studied Ruthe's face intently.

"People are always telling me that I look twenty-five. Some say thirty. My life's flushed down the %$$ hole. It's too late." The tone of her voice indicated she wanted to be contradicted.

Which of course, Ruthe quickly did. Fishing her little Gideon's Testament out of her purse, she insisted that it was not too late, and her thoughts were a rushing undercurrent of prayer. She began. "Jesus promises you, Him that cometh to me I will in no wise cast out."¹

"Jesus?" Darlene asked, scratching herself. "You said that like a name."

"You've never heard of Jesus before?!" Ruthe was incredulous.

No, Darlene thought it was an oral exclamation mark.

So Ruthe tried to explain what she thought every literate person in Canada must know. Who God was, and Jesus Christ, His Son. Ruthe opened her New Testament while speaking. Glancing down she saw it was at the Gospel of John, and suddenly knew what to look for. She scanned the tops of the pages until she found it. Turning sideways, hitching closer to the bed, she showed Darlene the page. "Here in God's Word, or Record, we have a story of a woman who was an adulteress, a prostitute. She was brought to face Jesus while He was on earth."

Darlene nodded, listening.

"You see, this woman sensed that Jesus was the Son of God, as I have just explained, and she believed He had the power to wipe out her wicked past. Do you know what Jesus said to her? 'Your sins are forgiven. Go, and sin no more.'"

Darlene wanted to read that for herself. She hesitated at most of the words, but when she finished she looked at Ruthe and stared. "You mean, He could forgive my past like that? Even if I've done much worse muck?!"

"Yes, this minute if you ask Him. He's done it many, many times for others."

"$%#@$%!" She was in a daze. "I bet she found it easy not to sin again. Not after talking person-to-person with the Son from God, eh?"

Ruthe agreed. "When we sincerely ask Him to forgive us, and when we believe He does, the innocent blood Jesus shed is counted as if it spilled for our personal sins, and all our guilt. It makes us just as pure as He is in God's sight."

Darlene concentrated on that idea.

"You see, Darlene, Jesus has finished everything that needed doing for our forgiveness. It's all like a wrapped gift. All we have to do is reach out our faith and take it as ours."

"Fantastic!"

"Right." Ruthe broke into a slight giggle. She knew they were on the brink of something truly fantastic. "It's as if I handed you a thousand dollar bill; it could be yours as soon as I decided to give it, but it wouldn't do you any good until you took it and spent it."

Darlene's eyes riveted on Ruthe's. "Get me to wherever this Jesus is. I want to see Him in person too."

Ruthe explained that Jesus, by the Holy Spirit, could hear their very thoughts, and each word they spoke. He was God, and therefore everywhere, they could talk to Him as if He was right in the room. Because He was.

Darlene was eager to try that. She accepted Ruthe's outstretched hands, and bent her head when she did. Ruthe told the Lord she was bringing a new friend to Him. Then she squeezed Darlene's hands and whispered, "Go ahead."

"Hi Jesus. You can hear me clear?" Darlene plunged in with gusto, following Ruthe's example. "Sorry I didn't know You were around 'til now. I hear You've known all along about me, and still You went ahead and died for me before I was even born. #$%, You didn't know what crap I was going to do, did You? I really have tried to stop, eh, lots of times. But it never lasted. From now on will You clean up the mess I am, and start my life over? Help me catch on from this Ruthe. I'm so clueless. Please and thank You, Sir."

There was so much Ruthe could think to teach Darlene, but it was high time she raced off to work. As she got up and tried to say a gentle good bye, Darlene surprised her by pulling down her face for a kiss. "Back tomorrow then?" With still more feeling she added, "$%$@! Am I ever glad you heard me scream Saturday night!"

Various emotions washed through Ruthe after she gave Darlene's name, age and address at the desk, then left for work. For herself she felt like shouting and singing. Thinking of Darlene, she wondered what would happen next. Would old surroundings and acquaintances soon draw her back into old habits? She knew God could change her, but what if she was too deeply set in her old ways? What if she changed her mind? Were God's new life promises stronger; or human nature?

Should she suggest Darlene leave that bad example mother? Would that solve anything, and was Darlene mature enough to live alone?

Ruthe was at it most of her shift, pestering the Lord for answers to all these questions.

Besides, Lord, Ruthe sighed several times as the shift wore on, If You don't help me keep this from my family I'm in hot water! They would disown me if they knew I was friends now with an ex-prostitute! Never mind assaulting a would-be murderer! She cringed at this look at her life from their perspective.

1 John 6:37b KJV

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