Pastor Greg adopts a quiet black girl named Nila, who is unable to speak a word other than her name. But when she learns English, she reveals a startling truth that sends him rushing to call 911. What secret has Nila been hiding, and how will it change both of their lives forever? Before we get into the story, comment below where in the world you are watching from today. And if you like this story, don’t forget to subscribe.
Pastor Greg walked down the quiet street, his heart full from the inspiring sermon he had just delivered. The afternoon air was cool, and the wind blew tree leaves across the sidewalk. As he turned the corner, something caught his eye. There, huddled against a brick wall, was a small figure. Pastor Greg’s heart skipped a beat as he realized it was a little girl. She looked so tiny and fragile, her clothes dirty and torn. She shivered in the chilly night air.
“Oh my goodness,” Pastor Greg whispered, his voice filled with concern. He approached slowly, not wanting to scare her.
“Hello there, little one, are you okay?”
The girl looked up, her big brown eyes wide with fear. She didn’t say a word, just stared at him. Pastor Greg knelt down, his kind face full of worry.
“My name is Pastor Greg. Can you tell me your name?”
The girl hesitated, then spoke in a tiny voice, “N… Nila.”
Pastor Greg repeated softly, “That’s a beautiful name. Are you cold? Where are your parents?”
Nila didn’t answer. She just hugged her knees tighter, looking lost and scared. Pastor Greg’s heart broke for this poor child. He couldn’t leave her here alone on the street. It wasn’t safe, and she clearly needed help.
“Nila,” he said gently, “would you like to come with me? I can give you something warm to eat and a safe place to sleep tonight.”
Nila looked unsure, but the kindness in Pastor Greg’s eyes seemed to comfort her a little. She nodded slowly.
Pastor Greg smiled warmly. “That’s good, Nila. Here, let me help you up.”
He held out his hand, and after a moment’s hesitation, Nila took it. Her small hand felt ice-cold in his warm grip. As they walked together, Pastor Greg’s mind raced. Who was this child? Where had she come from? How could he help her? He didn’t have all the answers, but he knew in his heart that God had put Nila in his path for a reason.
“Don’t worry, Nila,” he said softly. “Everything’s going to be all right now. I promise.”
As Pastor Greg and Nila entered his modest home, the warmth inside was a stark contrast to the chilly evening air. The little girl’s eyes darted around, taking in her new surroundings with a mix of curiosity and apprehension.
“This is my home, Nila,” Pastor Greg said gently. “You’re safe here.”
He guided her to the kitchen, where he quickly prepared a simple meal of soup and bread. Nila’s eyes widened at the sight of the food, but she hesitated to eat.
“It’s okay,” Pastor Greg encouraged, miming eating with a spoon. “Go ahead.”
Slowly, Nila picked up the spoon and began to eat. Pastor Greg’s heart ached as he watched her devour the food, realizing how hungry she must have been.
After dinner, he showed her to the spare bedroom. “You can sleep here tonight,” he explained, gesturing to the bed.
Nila nodded silently, her eyes still wary.
As night fell, Pastor Greg sat in his living room, lost in thought. He couldn’t shake the feeling that finding Nila was more than just chance. It felt like divine intervention, a test of faith and compassion.
“Lord,” he whispered, “guide me. Help me do right by this child.”
He thought about Nila’s silence, wondering if she understood English or if there was another reason for her quietness. Either way, he knew he needed to find a way to communicate with her. Pastor Greg’s mind raced with ideas. Maybe he could use pictures or simple gestures to start. He remembered some basic sign language from a workshop years ago. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.
As he prepared for bed, Pastor Greg made a silent vow. He would protect Nila and help her find her voice, whatever it took. Something told him this was just the beginning of a remarkable journey for both of them.
The next morning, Pastor Greg woke up early, his mind still racing with thoughts of how to help Nila. He made a simple breakfast of toast and scrambled eggs, hoping the familiar smell would coax the little girl out of her room. As he set the table, Nila peeked around the corner, her eyes wide with curiosity.
“Good morning, Nila,” Pastor Greg said softly, gesturing to the plate of food. “Breakfast.”
Nila nodded shyly and sat down at the table. As they ate, Pastor Greg picked up the phone and dialed the local social services office.
“Hello, this is Pastor Greg,” he said when someone answered. “I need to speak with a social worker about a child I found last night.”
After explaining the situation, the social worker on the other end of the line agreed to look into Nila’s case.
“For now, she can stay with you, Pastor,” the social worker said. “We’ll be in touch soon.”
With that settled, Pastor Greg turned his attention back to Nila. He knew communication was key to helping her feel safe and understood.
“Nila,” he said, pointing to himself, “Greg.”
He repeated this a few times, then pointed to her, “Nila.”
The little girl’s eyes lit up with recognition. She pointed to herself and whispered, “Nila.”
Encouraged by this small breakthrough, Pastor Greg began teaching her simple English words. He pointed to objects around the kitchen, saying each word clearly: “Table,” he said, tapping the wooden surface. “Chair. Plate. Spoon.”
Nila watched intently, her eyes following his gestures. After a few repetitions, she began to mimic the words softly.
As the days passed, their routine continued. Each morning, Pastor Greg would introduce new words, and Nila would eagerly repeat them. Her vocabulary grew, and with it, her confidence.
As the weeks passed, Pastor Greg’s home became a place of learning and growth for Nila. Every day, he introduced new words and phrases, patiently helping her build her English skills. Nila’s progress was slow but steady, and Pastor Greg’s heart swelled with pride each time she mastered a new word.
One Sunday morning, Pastor Greg decided it was time to introduce Nila to his church community. He gently explained to her that they would be going somewhere new.
“Church,” he said, pointing to a picture of the building. “We’ll go together.”
Nila nodded, her eyes wide with a mix of curiosity and apprehension. As they walked into the church, Pastor Greg felt her small hand grip his tightly. The congregation turned to look at them, and Nila shrank back, pressing herself against Pastor Greg’s side.
“It’s okay,” he whispered, patting her shoulder. “They’re friends.”
One by one, members of the congregation approached them, offering warm smiles and gentle greetings. Pastor Greg introduced Nila to each person, explaining that she was a special girl he was caring for. Though Nila remained quiet, her eyes darted from face to face, taking in the kind expressions around her. Mrs. Johnson, a grandmotherly figure in the church, knelt down to Nila’s level.
“Welcome, sweetheart,” she said softly, holding out a small stuffed animal. “This is for you.”
Nila hesitated, looking up at Pastor Greg for reassurance. He nodded encouragingly, and she reached out to accept the gift, a tiny smile tugging at her lips.
As the weeks went by, church became a regular part of their routine. Each Sunday, Nila would sit beside Pastor Greg in the front pew, listening intently to his sermons, even though she couldn’t understand all the words. The congregation embraced her, showering her with affection and small gifts. Slowly but surely, Nila’s walls began to crumble. Her shy smiles became more frequent, and she started to respond to greetings with quiet hellos of her own. The warmth and kindness of the community were working their magic, helping Nila feel safe and accepted.
One quiet evening, Pastor Greg and Nila sat down for dinner at the small kitchen table. The aroma of warm chicken soup filled the air as Pastor Greg ladled the steaming liquid into bowls. Nila watched him intently, her eyes following his every move. As they began to eat, Pastor Greg noticed Nila fidgeting with her spoon, her brow furrowed in concentration. He was about to ask if she needed help when suddenly she looked up at him with determination in her eyes.
“I like soup,” Nila said clearly, her voice soft but steady.
Pastor Greg’s spoon clattered against his bowl as he stared at her in amazement. His heart swelled with joy and pride.
“Nila!” he exclaimed, his eyes brimming with tears. “That’s wonderful! You spoke a full sentence!”
Nila’s face lit up with a shy smile. Encouraged by his reaction, she repeated, “I like soup,” this time with more confidence.
Pastor Greg reached across the table and gently squeezed her hand.
“I’m so proud of you, Nila. You worked so hard.”
Emboldened by her success, Nila began to speak more. Her words came slowly at first, carefully chosen and pronounced.
“Streets… cold,” she said
, her eyes growing distant. “No food… scared.”
Pastor Greg’s heart clenched as he listened. He knew this moment was precious. Nila was finally opening up about her past. He leaned in, giving her his full attention.
As the days passed, Nila’s confidence grew along with her English skills. She began to share more about her life, opening up to Pastor Greg in small bursts. One rainy afternoon, they sat together in the cozy living room, watching droplets race down the windowpane. Nila’s eyes seemed distant, lost in thought. Pastor Greg noticed her quietness and gently asked, “What’s on your mind, Nila?”
She turned to him, her eyes filled with a mix of sadness and longing.
“I… I have sister,” she said softly, her voice trembling.
Pastor Greg’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “You have a sister?” he repeated, encouraging her to continue.
Nila nodded, tears welling up in her eyes. “Twin sister… Tala,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “We were together on streets.”
Pastor Greg felt his heart skip a beat. He leaned forward, his face etched with concern.
“What happened to Tala?” he asked gently.
Nila’s lower lip quivered as she spoke. “We got separated… many months ago,” she explained, struggling to find the right words. “I look for her, but… can’t find.”
Pastor Greg’s mind reeled with this new information. Another child, Nila’s twin, was out there somewhere, possibly alone and scared. The thought made his chest tighten with worry.
“Oh, Nila,” he said softly, reaching out to hold her hand. “I’m so sorry. That must be so hard for you.”
Nila nodded, tears now flowing freely down her cheeks.
“I miss Tala,” she sobbed. “She… alone… scared, like me before.”
Pastor Greg pulled Nila into a comforting hug, his own eyes misting over. As he held the crying girl, his mind raced with thoughts of Tala. Where was she? Was she safe? The realization that another child might be out there, vulnerable and in need of help, hit him hard.
Pastor Greg smiled through his own tears, deeply moved by her words. He knew there was still much more to uncover about Nila’s past, but for now, this breakthrough was enough. They had taken a significant step forward, and he was grateful for the trust Nila had shown him.
Pastor Greg held Nila close, his heart heavy with the weight of her revelation. As her sobs subsided, he gently pulled back to look into her eyes.
“Nila,” he said softly, “I promise you, we’ll do everything we can to find Tala. You’re not alone in this anymore.”
Nila sniffled and nodded, a glimmer of hope shining through her tears.
Pastor Greg gave her a reassuring smile and stood up, his mind already racing with plans.
“I need to make a phone call,” he explained, patting Nila’s shoulder. “Why don’t you draw a picture of Tala? It might help us find her.”
As Nila settled at the kitchen table with some paper and crayons, Pastor Greg retreated to his study. His hands shook slightly as he dialed the number of Sarah, the social worker who had been helping with Nila’s case.
“Sarah, it’s Pastor Greg,” he said when she answered. “I have some important news about Nila. She has a twin sister named Tala, who’s still out there on the streets.”
Sarah’s sharp intake of breath echoed through the phone.
“A twin? Oh my goodness. How long have they been separated?”
“Months, according to Nila,” Pastor Greg replied, his voice tight with worry. “We need to find her, Sarah. She’s out there alone, probably scared and hungry.”
“I understand, Pastor,” Sarah said, her tone serious. “I’ll alert the authorities right away and start the search process. Can you get any more details from Nila? Anything that might help us locate Tala?”
Pastor Greg nodded, even though Sarah couldn’t see him. “I’ll do my best. Nila’s drawing a picture of her right now. I’ll send it to you as soon as it’s done.”
After hanging up, Pastor Greg leaned against his desk, his mind whirling with concern for Tala. He closed his eyes and said a quick prayer, asking for guidance and protection for the lost child.
Pastor Greg returned to the kitchen, his face a mix of determination and concern. He found Nila hunched over her drawing, her small hand gripping a crayon tightly. She looked up at him with hopeful eyes.
“Nila,” he said gently, “I’m going to call the police now. They can help us find Tala.”
Nila’s eyes widened with fear. “Police?” she whispered, her voice trembling.
Pastor Greg knelt beside her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.
“Don’t worry, sweetie. The police are here to help. They’re good people who want to bring Tala home safe.”
With a deep breath, Pastor Greg dialed 911. As the operator answered, he spoke clearly and calmly.
“Hello, I need to report a missing child. Her name is Tala, and she’s the twin sister of a girl I’m currently caring for.”
Nila watched intently as Pastor Greg provided all the information he could. He described Tala based on Nila’s appearance, explained their separation, and emphasized the urgency of the situation. The operator assured Pastor Greg that they would take the report seriously and send officers to his home immediately.
As he hung up, he noticed Nila’s trembling hands.
“It’s okay to be scared,” he said softly, pulling her into a hug. “But this is a good thing. The police will do everything they can to find Tala.”
Nila buried her face in Pastor Greg’s shoulder, her voice muffled. “What if they don’t find her?”
Pastor Greg stroked her hair gently. “We have to have faith, Nila. We’ll keep looking until we bring her home. I promise.”
A short while later, a knock at the door announced the arrival of two police officers. Pastor Greg invited them in, keeping a reassuring arm around Nila’s shoulders. The officers spoke kindly to Nila, asking her questions about Tala and where they had last been together. Though scared at first, Nila gradually opened up, encouraged by Pastor Greg’s presence.
As the officers prepared to leave, one of them knelt down to Nila’s level.
“We’re going to do everything we can to find your sister,” she said with a warm smile. “You’ve been very brave, Nila.”
After the police left, Pastor Greg found Nila standing by the window, her eyes fixed on the street outside. He joined her, placing a gentle hand on her back.
“They’re going to find her, aren’t they?” Nila asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Pastor Greg nodded, his voice filled with reassurance. “They’ll do everything possible, Nila, and so will we. We’re not going to give up until Tala is safe and sound.”
