By Kathryn Farris. Bacilia was home when she saw two men approaching. The children were tending the sheep and goats up on the mountainside; and her husband Isidore was in Baja, California, working. Two men, strangers to Bacilia, walked down the trail toward her house in Yosondua, Mexico. She peeped through a crack where the mud chinking had fallen out and confirmed her fears. They were indeed coming to her house. She squelched her natural tendency to withdraw and stepped outside. Too timid to face the men, she looked down at her bare feet and a soft voice said, “Too ni ini, taa.” “Good afternoon.”

She sensed that these men were different–kinder somehow. They called themselves her “her-manos” or brothers in Christ. True, her husband Isidoro had learned of Christ while working on Bible translation with the North American who lived nearby, and at one time she and Isidoro professed to be Christians and had even been baptized – but their lives remained unchanged.

She strained to catch what these men were saying. They spoke Spanish, not her native Mixtec language. She depended on Isidoro or the children to be her ears and mouth when she had to converse in Spanish. Today she was on her own and she listened intensely. “A film – her house – tonight – invite others.” She hoped she had understood.

Intrigued with the idea of seeing a film, some