By Werner Mischke
I got in the cab. “Chicago Marriott Naperville.”
“Okay. What is address?”
I got the address and told him. I noticed his accent sounded familiar. We drove a few minutes. I had to know where he was from. I felt a little weary. Then, I went ahead and asked: “What is your home country?”
“Syria. … Damascus.”
“I have been there!”
“Really? That’s fantastic! When?”
“2009. … I am sorry for your country. Do you still have have family there?”
“Yes, father and brothers. No sisters.”
“Are you Christian background?”
“No. Not many Christians in Syria. More Christians in Lebanon.”
Then, I knew he was Muslim, likely Sunni.
“I have been to Damascus and Homs.”
We had a little more small talk. I asked, “What is your name?”
“Sam.”
“What is your Arabic name?”
“Wasam.”
“Wasam. Okay.”
“Wasam, can I read for you some verses I read this morning in my Bible?”
“Yes.”
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