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Coming Together to Love, Heal & Empower

Inspiring Stories of Love, Healing, & Empowerment


February 2005
Issue Number 26

Welcome to Inspirations! Global Community For All sends out this e-zine filled with short, inspiring stories of love, healing, and empowerment once every three months. We share these wonderfully inspiring stories to encourage and inspire each other to be the best we can be each day of our lives. Thanks for joining us, and may these words inspire us to ever deepen our commitment to love, heal, and empower; to open to divine guidance; and to choose what's best for all.

The four inspiring stories for this issue are:

Inspiring Report from Disaster Worker in Thailand – Bill Francis
Something For Stevie
– Dan Anderson
I Know Now What The Buddha Saw – Monika Grill
Speaking Truth Makes Me Celebrity for a Week – Fred Burks

Inspiring Report from Disaster Worker in Thailand Bill Francis
[email protected] (Intro by Fred Burks)

Dear friends,

A big-hearted friend of mine named Bill Francis had been thoroughly enjoying rich times fulfilling his dream of travel and exploration in Southeast Asia for many months--and then the tsunami hit. He was in Thailand on Dec. 26th, the date that will forever be etched in the memories of many millions in Asia who lost loved ones and saw tragedy beyond comprehension. We who live far removed get only a glimpse of the tragic reality from our television sets and newspapers. We simply cannot imagine what it is like to be in the midst of this tangle of dead bodies rotting under the tropical sun, all victims of a still unfolding disaster spread along hundreds of miles of now destroyed coastland. So many hoping desperately that their loved ones might still be alive, yet having to search through putrid corpses knowing that their worst fears have more than likely come true....

As soon as the killer wave hit, Bill became a man on a mission. Completely forgetting about the extended vacation and rich adventures he had experienced, he set immediately to do everything he could to help in this time of great need. A former military man, his excellent organization skills came in handy. He soon found himself organizing and coordinating a small army of foreign volunteers doing their very best to alleviate the massive suffering.

I've been on Bill's email list ever since he left on his trip almost a year ago. He's shared many fascinating experiences, from meeting a king and royal family, to leisurely beach holidays, to times of deep spiritual retreat with special friends. But what is happening now has put all of that into the seemingly distant past. Now is the time for action. I share with you below a recent email Bill sent out. A sense of exhaustion is felt in his words, yet there is deep inspiration in the face of great adversity here. May we all be inspired to rise to the highest and best of which we are capable in times of great need. And let us continue to send prayers and whatever support we can afford.

Hi all,

Thank you for all the love and support.  I'm okay.  Very tired, working very hard.  I helped create and now run the Foreign Volunteers Center, some 350 people from many countries who ache to help.  Here's some highlights:

New Year's - no one said Happy New Year. We didn't know what to say. I sat quietly in my room and prayed.

Brave volunteers, Thai and "falangs" (foreigners) donned masks, gowns, boots, gloves, caps and lots of tiger balm (for the smells) and made themselves go in and work among the dead, helping, carrying, photographing personal effects, tatoos, picking up trash, moving bodies.  The tropical climate is hell on decomposition. I helped. I lasted about 6 or 7 hours until I saw something that was too much. I stopped and got help. I called my Dad. He helped more.

We've got counseling for the volunteers, thank God. The Thai's and professionals have now taken over; no more of our volunteers work with the dead. Thank God for that too.

Translators, hospital visitors, distributors of information, food, supplies; truck loaders, data base creators and compilers, hand holders, listeners, counselors, volunteer directors, coordinators of every kind, all these and more the volunteers do daily.

Bangkok - a falang came to create a childrens' home for the newly orphaned.
Bulgarian embalmers..."we're going to our hotel to rest, call us and we'll come right back."
Denmark - a special forces trooper formed a team and flew to a remote island to help a distressed family search for loved ones for two days. 
America - A flight attendant from California took leave and flew here, just to help.
Hungary - Zoldt, a big beautiful man, one day in the temple, next with an embassy, next creating a data base in
Mike - origins unknown, leading a cleanup effort in a remote town
Amy - American living in Thailand going to villages, assessing needs for food, clothes, cooking utensils, then gets and delivers them. Friends pour money into her bank account, she pours it into the villagers.
Japan, Sweden, Finland, Germany, Italy, Denmark, Holland, England, Canada, Mexico, Portugal, Romania, Russia, Poland the list goes on - each pouring their light into this dark time.

Sadly, many survivors work tirelessly, driving themselves. We offer counseling. They just work. It helps them for now. Their stories stagger me. There is too much to tell, but this gives a snapshot of the foreigner's efforts. You cannot imagine the numbers and efforts of the Thais themselves.  Its amazing. Here there is a tidal wave of human kindness, strength, determination and selfless giving. I'm am blessed and humbled to work with all of them.

Please forgive the writing, I've no time to polish it tonight. Time for a shower and sleep.

Good night.


William the Seeker 

Whoever forgives first, wins.  My brother forgave me.  He wins.

I received the below short follow-up email from Bill a few days later:

Hi again,

I don´t know how to feel, but I´m going to be on the CBS Nightly News with Dan Rather tonight, 6pm EST.  He was wonderful.  I spent about two hours with him and again I am humbled and blessed. I´d be honored if you watch. I hope they run most of what we discussed.  It got to the core of who I am and blessed the thousands for their unselfish efforts. 


For a harrowing description of being caught up in the tsunami:

Something For Stevie–Dan Anderson
From Stories for a Faithful Heart by Alice Gray

I try not to be biased, but I had my doubts about hiring Stevie. His placement counselor assured me that he would be a good, reliable busboy. But I had never had a mentally handicapped employee and wasn't sure I wanted one. I wasn't sure how my customers would react. Stevie was short, a little dumpy, with the smooth facial features and thick-tongued speech of Downs syndrome.

I wasn't worried about most of my trucker customers. Truckers don't generally care who buses tables as long as the food is good and the pies are homemade. The ones who concerned me were the mouthy college kids traveling to school; the yuppie snobs who secretly polish their silverware with their napkins for fear of catching some dreaded "truckstop germ;" and the pairs of white-shirted business men on expense accounts who think every truckstop waitress wants to be flirted with. I knew those people would be uncomfortable around Stevie, so I closely watched him for the first few weeks.

I shouldn't have worried. After the first week, Stevie had my staff wrapped around his stubby little finger. Within a month my truck regulars had adopted him as their official truckstop mascot. After that I really didn't care what the rest of the customers thought. He was a 21-year-old in blue jeans and Nikes, eager to laugh and eager to please, but fierce in his attention to his duties. Every salt and pepper shaker was exactly in its place, not a bread crumb or coffee spill was visible when Stevie got done with the table.

Our only problem was convincing him to wait to clean a table until after the customers were finished. He would hover in the background, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, scanning the dining room until a table was empty. Then he would scurry to the empty table and carefully bus the dishes and glasses onto the cart and meticulously wipe the table with a practiced flourish of his rag. If he thought a customer was watching, his brow would pucker with added concentration. He took pride in doing his job exactly right, and you had to love how hard he tried to please each and every person he met.

Over time, we learned that he lived with his mother, a widow who was disabled after repeated surgeries for cancer. They lived on their Social Security benefits in public housing two miles from the truckstop. Their social worker, who stopped to check on him every so often, admitted they had fallen between the cracks. Money was tight, and what I paid him was probably the difference between them being able to live together and Stevie being sent to a group home.

That's why the restaurant was a gloomy place that morning last August, the first morning in three years that Stevie missed work. He was at the Mayo Clinic in Rochester getting a new valve or something put in his heart. His social worker said that people with Downs syndrome often have heart problems at an early age, so this wasn't unexpected. There was a good chance he would come through the surgery in good shape and be back at work in a few months. A ripple of excitement ran through the staff later that morning when word came that he was out of surgery, in recovery and doing fine. Frannie, my head waitress, let out a war whoop and did a little dance the aisle when she heard the good news.

Belle Ringer, one of our regular trucker customers, grinned. "Okay, Frannie, what was that all about?" he asked. "We just got word that Stevie is out of surgery and going to be okay," she responded. "I was wondering where he was," said Belle. Frannie quickly told him and the other two drivers sitting at his booth about Stevie's surgery, then sighed. "Yeah, I m glad he is going to be okay," she said, "but I don't know how he and his mom are going to handle all the bills. From what I hear, they're barely getting by as it is." Belle Ringer nodded thoughtfully, and Frannie hurried off to wait on the rest of her tables.

After the morning rush, Frannie walked into my office. She had a couple of paper napkins in her hand a funny look on her face. "What's up?" I asked. "That table where Belle Ringer and his friends were sitting," she said, "this was folded and tucked under a coffee cup." She handed the napkin to me, and three $20 bills fell onto my desk when I opened it. On the outside, in big, bold letters, was printed "Something For Stevie."

"Pony Pete also asked me what that dance was all about," she said, "so I told him about Stevie and his mom and everything, and Pete looked at Tony and Tony looked at Pete, and they ended up giving me this." She handed me another paper napkin that had "Something For Stevie" scrawled on its outside. Two $50 bills were tucked within its folds. Frannie looked at me with wet, shiny eyes, shook her head and said simply, "Truckers."

That was three months ago. Today is Thanksgiving, the first day Stevie is supposed to be back to work. His placement worker said he's been counting the days until the doctor said he could work, and it didn't matter at all that it was a holiday. He called 10 times in the past week, making sure we knew he was coming, fearful that we had forgotten him or that his job was in jeopardy. I arranged to have his mother bring him to work. We met them in the parking lot and invited them both to celebrate his day back.

Stevie was thinner and paler, but couldn't stop grinning as he pushed through the doors and headed for the back room where his apron and busing cart were waiting. "Hold up there, Stevie, not so fast, "I said. I took him and his mother by their arms. "Work can wait for a minute. To celebrate you coming back, breakfast for you two is on me. I led them toward a large corner booth at the rear of the room. I could feel and hear the rest of the staff following behind as we marched through the dining room. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw booth after booth of grinning truckers empty and join the procession.

We stopped in front of the big table; its surface covered with a mess of coffee cups, saucers and dinner plates, all sitting crooked on dozens of folded paper napkins. "First thing you have to do, Stevie, is clean up this mess," I said, trying to sound stern. Stevie looked at me, and then at his mother, then pulled out one of the napkins. It had "Something for Stevie" printed on the outside. As he picked it up, two $10 bills fell onto the table. Stevie stared at the money, then at dozens of napkins peeking from beneath the tableware, each with his name printed or scrawled on it.

I turned to his mother. "There's over $10,000 in cash and checks on that table, all from truckers and trucking companies that heard about your problems. Happy Thanksgiving!" Well, it got real noisy about that time, with everybody hollering and shouting, and there were a few tears, too. But you know what's funny? While everybody else was busy shaking hands and hugging each other, Stevie, with a big, big smile on his face, was busy clearing all the cups and dishes from the table... best worker I ever hired.

I Know Now What The Buddha Saw – Monika Grill
[email protected]

I know now what the Buddha saw

I know now what the Buddha saw
when he had finally let go of everything.
Yes, he did see the Starry Void, the all-encompassing Abstraction of Holiness,
the Crystalline Structures of the Heavenly Spheres reverberating at the sound of OM.
Yes, he did find himself in an Endless Ocean of Existence, of Being and Not Being,
of Dark and Light, of Yin and Yang, of Past Present and Future all condensed
into a Precise Point of Awareness containing the Infinite.

He did see all of that. He felt it. He was it. He understood.
And because he understood, right there under the Bodhi tree,
he stepped off the Path that had brought him there.
Like a voyager who has traveled immeasurable distances,
he turned off the engine that had moved him across the galaxies
through the wonders and terrors of space.
He said goodbye to the faithful vehicle that had ensured his survival,
and to the familiar safety of what had been his home.
And he opened the hatch, and he let go of his journey,
and he stepped into the open onto the surface of a New World.

And what he heard was the weight of his body crushing the sand where he sat.
What he felt was his lungs expanding with the breath of cool moist air,
and the yielding hardness of the tree pressing against his tired back.
And what imprinted on his eyes, what the Buddha saw
when he had finally let go of Everything,
were all the Gods and Goddesses small and large,
known and unknown, past present and future,
dancing like Rainbows across the pure clean planes of the Diamond Mind.

He saw Beings vast, beyond comprehension, walk the Shores of Eternity,
throwing Thoughts and Emotions like pebbles into the Endless Space for Sheer Joy.
He watched them watch the ripples spread through Creation.
Watched them laugh, and he laughed with them,
laughed at their Terrible and Carefree Beauty, their Cold Mercy,
as one of them reached into the Infinite and tenderly scooped up a stone,
thrown but a moment ago, and returned it into her Heart's Chamber.

And the Buddha saw the markings on the pebble, representing a life,
and he knew it for his own.
He looked into the face of the Being whose Heart held his life,
and he knew it for his own.
He looked at his own hands,
folded on his lap in the Infinite Circle of the Diamond Sutra.

And the Buddha knew his vision would become a craving in his students' heart,
a mythical beast that would devour the very wisdom of his path.
And so the Buddha decided not to tell us
and to let us find out for ourselves.

Speaking Truth Makes Me Celebrity for a Week–Fred Burks
[email protected]

I recently sent out an email to many friends describing both an excellent BBC documentary and my own personal experience as a presidential interpreter which reveal clear manipulations and fear-mongering by groups within the power elite in regards to the war on terror. The message is posted at for those who are interested. Here I would like to share with you the inspiring story of how speaking truth led to my becoming a celebrity for a week after recently giving testimony in the most prominent court case in Indonesia.

First and foremost, I have no doubt that it is my openness to divine guidance which has brought these and so many other unexpected miracles into my life. My deepest commitment for my entire adult life has always been to what's best for all. I continually ask for divine guidance in choosing what's best for all as I move through my life. I also surrender to God's will and fully trust that I am continually guided to what's best for all. You can read the inspiring story filled with little miracles of how this deep commitment led to my becoming the top Indonesian interpreter at the US Department of State at

For a brief background to the story of my week as a celebrity, Indonesia is the fourth largest nation in the world with a population of over 225 million. It is estimated that over 80% of Indonesians are Muslim, yet these warm people are known for their tolerance and respect of other religions. When I lived there for a full year with a wonderful Muslim family back in 1981, on Christmas day I joined the whole family as they jumped into their car to visit and pay respects to all of their Christian friends on this most important Christian holiday. Almost all Indonesian Muslims follow this tradition, just as Christians in Indonesia pay respects to their Muslim friends on the most important Muslim Holiday Idul Fitri.

Before 9/11, most Indonesians liked and supported both the American government and people. Whenever I visited Indonesia, friends and acquaintances there almost always spoke positively of the US. Immediately after 9/11 there was a huge outpouring of sympathy from all of my Indonesian friends, who sent very kind emails expressing support to our grief-stricken nation. When the US invaded Afghanistan, however, a few there began to question US motives behind this attack. But it was during the lead up to the war on Iraq and the following invasion that Indonesian support of the US began to drastically change.

Many of you know that reporting on the war in Iraq in the US was quite one-sided. The New York Times and Washington Post even belatedly published official apologies for not reporting significant news which questioned this war. European countries were more balanced in their reporting, while Muslim countries generally were biased against the US in their reporting on Iraq. Many Muslims felt that through deciding to invade this predominantly Muslim nation without the support of the UN, the US had clearly gone too far, especially when the claimed reason for the attack turned out to be bogus. Indonesian Muslims, like Muslims around the world, increasingly felt that their religion was being targeted, as it was continually linked to terrorism.

Given this background, you can understand why Indonesians were interested in my testimony in the highly publicized case of Abu Bakar Basyir. In court, I testified to being the interpreter at a secret meeting where heavy pressure by the US government was put on Indonesian President Megawati Soekarnoputri to secretly capture and turn Basyir over to US authorities. Though US authorities have repeatedly denied ever putting any pressure on Jakarta to act against Ba'asyir (even after my testimony), many Indonesians have believed all along that Basyir was being scapegoated and falsely made out to be a terrorist in order to further turn public opinion against Muslims.

Basyir is a fundamentalist Muslim who has spoken out harshly against US and international intervention. He advocates incorporating religious law into Indonesian government. He is something like a Jerry Falwell or Pat Robertson in the US, fundamentalist Christians who speak out against evil in governments around the world, and who want the US to be run on religious principles. The vast majority of Indonesians do not agree with Basyir's principles. He does not have a large following there. But they do believe strongly in justice and democracy.

Few in Indonesia believe that Basyir is a terrorist, or that he has advocated violence. The reason his case has become the most highest publicized legal case in Indonesia is that most Indonesians suspect the whole case is being manipulated by the US and powerful, international elite groups. The team of lawyers representing Abu Bakar Basyir numbers close to 100. Yet most of these attorneys are moderate Muslims, with a few even from other religions. They are defending him pro bono--free of charge. They do this not because they agree with his beliefs, but rather because they see how international intervention has resulted in this man being unfairly made out to be an evil terrorist, based on evidence which does not hold up in court.

And so it was that in court on January 13th, in front of hundreds in the audience and dozens of reporters, I described my experience as a US State Department interpreter at a secret meeting in the home of the Indonesian president Megawati Soekarnoputri. In this meeting, I witnessed a personal envoy of Bush, supported by US ambassador to Indonesia Ralph Boyce and National Security Council expert Karen Brooks, put heavy pressure on Megawati to secretly capture and turn over Basyir. The reasons given were based solely on the testimony of Omar Al-Faruq, a suspected terrorist who had previously been secretly turned over to the US. President Megawati resisted the pressure, even stating, "I hope this does not lead to a severing of the good relations between the our two countries."

I had known that my testimony might make the news, but I was stunned at the extensive coverage given. It was simply miraculous! Walking out of the court room, I was surrounded by a sea of reporters who wanted to know more. Most Indonesians had thought that Americans did not like Muslims and supported the war on terror. One reporter asked: "As an American, why are you supporting an Indonesian targeted by the US government?" I responded, "Many Americans do not support the recent wars and targeting of Muslims. As an American citizen, I am one of many who highly value respect and cooperation among all peoples and countries."

Another reporter asked if I wasn't betraying my country in revealing state secrets. I told them about the important role of whistleblowers, people who reveal government manipulations which clearly are not in the interests of the country or world. I explained how whistleblowers are seen as heroes, to be commended for their bravery in exposing corruption in high places. I also told this eager audience about my work as manager of the successful website, which provides reliable, verifiable information on major cover-ups of which few people are aware.

They wanted to know what else I knew. I told them about my deep commitment to what's best for all people, and how this is what guides my life and all that I do. Asked about concern for my own safety in revealing these sensitive secrets, I told them "I have very little fear, because I trust that I am always guided by God to whatever is best. I'm prepared even to die whenever it is my time, though I trust that I am here to do some important work." It was miraculous to me to be able to share how my own deep faith and commitment brought me to this place.

News of my testimony was broadcast on all of Indonesia's major TV stations. National newspapers (and many international papers) the next day carried articles on the American who exposed secrets manipulations of his government. These articles generated even more interest in both my testimony and what caused me to be willing to testify. And so my remaining four days in Jakarta were filled with press interviews and invitations to speak at important institutions. I ended up on prime-time TV with one of the most respected news hosts in the country sharing my commitment to help all peoples work together for the good of all. Another miracle!

I was invited to give a talk at one of the country's most prestigious research institutions and several other respected venues. The deputy chairman of the Indonesia's parliament stood up at one of my talks to inform everyone that he had cleared his busy schedule to come hear me speak, because he had heard that here was someone who was speaking deep truths. Another miracle! He even half-seriously offered me political asylum should I need it.

I helped this prominent politician and many other influential Indonesians (and even a few foreigners) to see that it is not that the American people and government are targeting Islam. It is corrupt individuals within government and among the power elite who are using fear to forward their own selfish agendas, and who are manipulating public perception of Islam. These elite groups are profiting handsomely from the wars waged.

Bringing the message even deeper, I invited everyone to whom I talked to examine where each of us is pointing the finger of blame at other groups or individuals without examining our own involvement. I invited all to see how we are allowing ourselves to become polarized. Christians and Jews are increasing led to be suspicious of our Muslim brothers and sisters, while Muslims, in turn, are led to be angry and suspicious of the US and its allies. I encouraged everyone to remember that we are all doing our best, that we are all one human family, and that we have the opportunity now to work together to break this vicious cycle of fear and blame, and to build a brighter future for all of us.

My father was a preacher, so you might notice that some of his character rubbed off on me. I don't mean to preach to anyone, but with all the national press attention, I was thrilled to have this powerful opportunity to remind the people of an entire nation that we are all beautiful people worthy of love, honor, and respect, and that we can choose to work together for the good of all. I clearly felt God's presence in providing me this miraculous opportunity to invite us all to join together in working for the greater good.

And the response was tremendous! Numerous articles were published daily on both my testimony and my talks. Calls poured in for interviews and invitations to talk. In addition to the prime time TV appearance, I was interviewed for an hour on one of the nation's most popular radio programs. I had reporters with me almost everywhere I went. I was truly a celebrity for a week. What a miracle! On my way home in the Jakarta airport, several people recognized me and thanked me for all I had done. As I stepped up to the currency exchange window to transfer my remaining rupiah into dollars, the clerk took one look at me and said, "You're Fred Burks! Thank you!"

It was very strange and completely unexpected to become famous for one week. Given the choice, I would definitely rather not be famous, because you can't go anywhere without people wanting to talk with you. However, it was truly a lot of fun to have fame for just one week in Indonesia. Now I'm glad to be back home, leading a much more anonymous life again.

There are many other little miracles to this led up to this story. Though my testimony was strong, it was made even stronger by the testimony of two of Indonesia's most respected leaders. This was Basyir's second trial. Two years earlier, he had been found innocent of any terrorism charges, yet he was jailed for a year and a half (largely in response to intense international pressure) on immigration violations. When Basyir was due to be released, US Ambassador Ralph Boyce separately approached two of the top religious leaders in the nation. He privately pressured them use their influence to convince the Supreme Court and police to keep Basyir in jail or rearrest him.

Basyir was, in fact, rearrested immediately upon release, but one of these two leaders testified on the same day as my testimony to being pressured by Boyce. After our testimony, the other well-known leader acknowledged that he, too, had been pressured by Ambassador Boyce. So the continued denial by US authorities of any pressure in this case was in direct contradiction not only to my testimony, but also to that of prominent public leaders known and respected throughout Indonesia. Another little miracle.

Then there is the story of how I came to testify. When I first started talking openly about this secret meeting two months ago, I didn't even know that Basyir was on trial for a second time. The reason I revealed this information is that I had recently resigned from the State Department largely because of excessive new requirements for secrecy. As I had never taken a secrecy oath, I felt no obligation to keep this information secret after my resignation, particularly as what was being requested in this meeting was a violation of international law. I mentioned the secret meeting to a reporter who was interested in writing an article on my resignation. His article in the Washington Post included one paragraph about the Basyir meeting.

One of the main lawyers on Basyir's team, a wonderful man named A.W. Wirawan, contacted me by email as a result of this article. When Mr. Wirawan asked if I would come to Indonesia to testify to what I had witnessed, I was surprised, but eventually agreed.  As I knew Basyir's attorneys were all working for free and would have to pay for my visit out of their own pockets, I told Mr. Wirawan that I would be willing to stay in someone's home to save them money. I should mention that the lead lawyer on Basyir's team is one of the most famous and respected lawyers in all of Indonesia, Adnan Buyung Nasution. He founded Indonesia's Legal Aid Society and has defended a number of the most important court cases in Indonesia's history.

The day after I sent the email offering to stay in someone's home, I received an email from Mr. Wirawan informing me that I would be staying in the home of the famous Mr. Nasution! Another miracle! In my time there, Mr. Nasution, his wonderful wife, several members of the legal team, and I had a wonderful time getting to know each other and sharing inspiring stories and important information. They were so happy with my testimony and all the press attention it drew that they threw a special going away celebration for me on my last evening at Mr. Nasution's beautiful home.

Besides inviting the legal team and several prominent Indonesians to this celebration, Mr. Nasution decided to invite Megawati. It was a long shot, but the legal team had thought getting me to come testify was a long shot, too. Sure enough, (now former) President Megawati gave us the great honor of coming to my going away celebration! Another miracle!!! She had appreciated my interpreting and warm manner in the several times I had worked with her. She also clearly supported my court testimony, though she was reluctant to say so publicly.

Megawati and I ended up having a great talk at this celebration. She even gave me the phone number of one of the Americans at that secret meeting, her long-time personal friend Karen Brooks of the National Security Council. Though I was never sworn to secrecy as an interpreter, and therefore was not breaking any laws in revealing these secrets, I had made a personal promise to Ms. Brooks over that phone not to reveal the contents of this meeting. I wanted to apologize to her and explain my reasoning for revealing this important information. So to have Ms. Megawati, the former president of Indonesia, give me Ms. Brooks phone number helped me to clear the only regret I had about the whole amazing week in Indonesia. What a wonderful way to end a trip full of miracles!

I am extremely thankful to God and to all of the people who helped to make my trip and testimony such a miraculous journey. I know that every one of us is incredibly blessed. I know that the more any of us open to divine guidance and to doing what's best for all, the more likely blessings and miracles will flow in our lives. I invite us all to open our hearts and work together to build a brighter future for all good people on our beautiful planet.

With much love and warm wishes for what's best for you and for all,
Fred Burks

P.S. For those interested in reading articles on my testimony: - BBC  - Boston Globe - ABC Australia

All the darkness of the world cannot put out the light of a single candle.

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