God Bless,
-Kathy
God's Grace On My Family (Part 2)
"In the second part of this testimony I am keeping the same title that God gave to Pam, before I even had time to think of one. We are now entering the after war period. I remember when Paris was liberated in August 1944, I was not yet 5 years old. I had never seen Maman in such jubilation, she was saying over and over, "Paris est libere, Paris est libere"! "Paris is liberated, Paris is liberated"! All the bells of all the churches in Paris were ringing at the same time, and Maman opened a window. It was just a loud sound of elation.
No more Nazi flags floating on the top of buildings, no more German uniforms, no more loud boots. A new atmosphere was taking place you could sense the change. Oppression: gone.
Right after the war on a daily basis, everytime Maman, Francoise and I were in the streets of Paris, whether for grocery shopping or a sunday stroll, it was most common to see men whose faces were emaciated and whose bodies were so skinny that they looked like walking skeletons. They would wear striped pajamas, as to let the people know the kind of horrific world they had come back from. Maman would always say, "Oh that person came back"! With gratefulness in her voice.
This next paragraph is important to me, it is the initial reason why God had me post my testimony. I have to describe the change of the atmosphere in Paris. First the heavy and hostile environment (their whole attire and countenance) of Nazi's occupation and the open, carefree, warm, friendliness of the American liberation. It was a total metamorphosis in the streets of Paris, so tangible, a little girl of 4 almost 5 years of age could feel it, could touch it. Whenever Maman, Francoise and I went in the underground metro or walking in the streets sometimes, some young men in American uniforms with kind baby faces, beautiful smiles, would motion us to come to them. We would have Maman's permission to go walk toward them. They would then talk to us, asking us I guess, if we wanted some gum and candy, which I'd never tasted. No candy could be found or purchased in occupied France. What a joy it was. We both would smile big and say "Thank you very much", as Maman instructe us to do. Those short fleeting moments of "pure happiness", were repeated time after time. And this is the very thing that the Lord reminded me of. As I would walk away from those nice soldiers, I had in my heart an affection for them that even transcended the delicious taste of white Wrigley's gum and colorful Lifesavers. It is a feeling of love and gratitude that would never leave.
About 2 weeks before writing the first part of my testimony, the Lord revealed to me when he put his love in my heart for the Americans 70 years ago.
He used those young men and their white Wrigley's gum and Lifesavers toward me to open my heart. It was a deep revelation and I thank my Heavenly Father for it. As the Lord brouht up his love in my heart for the Americans, I think of all those young men who left behind parents and loved ones an exceptional nation, to come to save a people whom they did not know, thousand miles away from their homes and how brave, noble and selfless their endeavor was. Them who stood for freedom came to return ours.
America is my country, my loyalty is to her, I do not take it for granted. My parents and I arrived in Texas April 1963. I became an American citizen in 1982. I do not believe in dual nationality. Can you be loyal to two nations in case of conflict? It is impossible. The Lord brought us here, he wanted us to be American, amen.
After a while the friendly baby faces returned home or were sent to different American bases in France or Germany. Paris returned to normal. Ever since that time I longed for the Americans. One episode I feel that I have to share, is an encounter I had with a big black young man in an American uniform. In Europe, at that time you did not have supermarkets. You had bakeries, the butcher, the creamery for eggs, milk, cheese and other individula stores. You would go every day for the meal of the day. When Maman was inside one of those stores, I stepped outside next to the entrance in order to not block the customers, waiting for her. Suddenly that young man started force feeding me crackers or cookies, assuming that I must have been starving for the lack of abundance of food Paris had experienced. I do not recall being afraid, but I must have been startled, but no trauma, nothing bad or scary happened. Someone freed me from his friendly determined embrace. What a sweet man, concerned about starving kids. Yes Lord I remember him too and I thank you for him.
Those memories are precious, we live in a time where so much hatred is directed toward America, so many wish her demise. I'm so glad the Lord showed me his love he put in my heart for the American people. I'm angry at the enemies of America. I'm disgusted at the way she is treated, I'm outraged at her borders that cease to exist and at the audacity of the invaders who show no respect to the memories of those young men who gave their lives to keep her free.
When life went back to normal and I got used to having a Papa living with us (I was intimidated at first because he had a big voice.) Our main entertainment beside reading was to go every week, with Papa mainly, to see an American western. That was my escape from a mundane life. Here they were, I found them again, those beautiful people with those big friendly smiles. Good and brave all over agan, cavalcading in opened range. Most movies were taking place in Texas and made me want to live there, with a horse and freedom to enjoy. I learned to appreciate the way of life those "heroes" were living right before my eyes. They did good things, they were nice and kind, prayed occasionally which did not mean much to me, except made me think they must have been good. It might appear very insignificant to people, but this appeal toward the American people was running deep inside me. I loved the unassuming honesty and thoughtfulness. I wanted to live in the midst of it-uncomplicated and basic.
How precious is the Lord and faithful. First he put his love in my heart for the Americans then for Texas and then he brings me here for something I could not have ever dreamed of. Which was to sit under an apostle and prophet, Doyle Davidson and to hear and be taught how to walk in the glorious gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ.
God Bless,
Jacqueline King"
No more Nazi flags floating on the top of buildings, no more German uniforms, no more loud boots. A new atmosphere was taking place you could sense the change. Oppression: gone.
Right after the war on a daily basis, everytime Maman, Francoise and I were in the streets of Paris, whether for grocery shopping or a sunday stroll, it was most common to see men whose faces were emaciated and whose bodies were so skinny that they looked like walking skeletons. They would wear striped pajamas, as to let the people know the kind of horrific world they had come back from. Maman would always say, "Oh that person came back"! With gratefulness in her voice.
This next paragraph is important to me, it is the initial reason why God had me post my testimony. I have to describe the change of the atmosphere in Paris. First the heavy and hostile environment (their whole attire and countenance) of Nazi's occupation and the open, carefree, warm, friendliness of the American liberation. It was a total metamorphosis in the streets of Paris, so tangible, a little girl of 4 almost 5 years of age could feel it, could touch it. Whenever Maman, Francoise and I went in the underground metro or walking in the streets sometimes, some young men in American uniforms with kind baby faces, beautiful smiles, would motion us to come to them. We would have Maman's permission to go walk toward them. They would then talk to us, asking us I guess, if we wanted some gum and candy, which I'd never tasted. No candy could be found or purchased in occupied France. What a joy it was. We both would smile big and say "Thank you very much", as Maman instructe us to do. Those short fleeting moments of "pure happiness", were repeated time after time. And this is the very thing that the Lord reminded me of. As I would walk away from those nice soldiers, I had in my heart an affection for them that even transcended the delicious taste of white Wrigley's gum and colorful Lifesavers. It is a feeling of love and gratitude that would never leave.
About 2 weeks before writing the first part of my testimony, the Lord revealed to me when he put his love in my heart for the Americans 70 years ago.
He used those young men and their white Wrigley's gum and Lifesavers toward me to open my heart. It was a deep revelation and I thank my Heavenly Father for it. As the Lord brouht up his love in my heart for the Americans, I think of all those young men who left behind parents and loved ones an exceptional nation, to come to save a people whom they did not know, thousand miles away from their homes and how brave, noble and selfless their endeavor was. Them who stood for freedom came to return ours.
America is my country, my loyalty is to her, I do not take it for granted. My parents and I arrived in Texas April 1963. I became an American citizen in 1982. I do not believe in dual nationality. Can you be loyal to two nations in case of conflict? It is impossible. The Lord brought us here, he wanted us to be American, amen.
After a while the friendly baby faces returned home or were sent to different American bases in France or Germany. Paris returned to normal. Ever since that time I longed for the Americans. One episode I feel that I have to share, is an encounter I had with a big black young man in an American uniform. In Europe, at that time you did not have supermarkets. You had bakeries, the butcher, the creamery for eggs, milk, cheese and other individula stores. You would go every day for the meal of the day. When Maman was inside one of those stores, I stepped outside next to the entrance in order to not block the customers, waiting for her. Suddenly that young man started force feeding me crackers or cookies, assuming that I must have been starving for the lack of abundance of food Paris had experienced. I do not recall being afraid, but I must have been startled, but no trauma, nothing bad or scary happened. Someone freed me from his friendly determined embrace. What a sweet man, concerned about starving kids. Yes Lord I remember him too and I thank you for him.
Those memories are precious, we live in a time where so much hatred is directed toward America, so many wish her demise. I'm so glad the Lord showed me his love he put in my heart for the American people. I'm angry at the enemies of America. I'm disgusted at the way she is treated, I'm outraged at her borders that cease to exist and at the audacity of the invaders who show no respect to the memories of those young men who gave their lives to keep her free.
When life went back to normal and I got used to having a Papa living with us (I was intimidated at first because he had a big voice.) Our main entertainment beside reading was to go every week, with Papa mainly, to see an American western. That was my escape from a mundane life. Here they were, I found them again, those beautiful people with those big friendly smiles. Good and brave all over agan, cavalcading in opened range. Most movies were taking place in Texas and made me want to live there, with a horse and freedom to enjoy. I learned to appreciate the way of life those "heroes" were living right before my eyes. They did good things, they were nice and kind, prayed occasionally which did not mean much to me, except made me think they must have been good. It might appear very insignificant to people, but this appeal toward the American people was running deep inside me. I loved the unassuming honesty and thoughtfulness. I wanted to live in the midst of it-uncomplicated and basic.
How precious is the Lord and faithful. First he put his love in my heart for the Americans then for Texas and then he brings me here for something I could not have ever dreamed of. Which was to sit under an apostle and prophet, Doyle Davidson and to hear and be taught how to walk in the glorious gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ.
God Bless,
Jacqueline King"
You can read "Part One" by clicking here: God's Grace on My Family.
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