It was one of the most amazing encounters of my life. I get goose bumps as I think back to the events of that day. It all started when my wife suggested we invite someone over for lunch after church.
"I'll make spaghetti", she said one Saturday night a few months ago. "Who should we invite?", I asked.
She thought for a second. "How about Daniel? He is a young guy. Just out of college. Just moved here. I am sure he would appreciate a home cooked meal. What do you think?"
"Sure, sounds great." I said. Daniel was a nice kid. He graduated from college last year. He took a job as a Latin teacher at a Christian high school here in Roanoke. Nice guy. I hardly knew him. Why not?
The sermon was over. The pastor prayed the benediction to close the service. We were sitting on the second pew, left side. Our traditional spot. I turned around to look through the crowd of parishioners. Hmmm. Spotted him. Daniel was near the back, headed toward the door. I worked my way quickly up the center aisle. I tried my best to not barrell over the chatting ladies as I made my way quickly through the worshippers. "Excuse me". "Pardon me". "Nice to see you too."
"Daniel!", I yelled, trying not to draw too much attention. Thankfully he heard me and wheeled around. I caught up to him.
"We want you to come over for lunch today. How about some spaghetti? My wife's specialty."
Daniel's face lit up. "Wow, thank you." Then his face took on a concerned look. "I am meeting a friend today. He is coming to Roanoke. I am expecting him about 2."
"Bring him along. We make a lot of spaghetti. We would love to have you both". Daniel accepted
Our four children were a little hungry when we got home, so we let them go ahead and eat. My wife and I would wait for Daniel and his friend. At two o'clock there was a knock on the door. I opened the door. There stood Daniel and his friend. Daniel's friend was in his twenties, thin, friendly, smiling, and African.
Daniel introduced his friend. "Jeff, I would like you to meet Dut Yai". At first I did not understand his name.
"Glad to meet you. Please come in", I offered, shaking Dut's hand.
I wanted to get the name thing cleared up. "How do you spell your name?", I asked. Dut spelled it for me. Dut's name is pronounced doot (rhymes with flute).
Dut spoke fairly good, but heavily accented English.
"Where are you from?", I asked inquisitively.
"I am from Sudan", Dut replied.
"Dut is one of the lost boys of Sudan", Daniel added.
I nodded as if I knew what that meant. I did not, but I was about to learn.