We were driving out of a migrant labor camp after an evening of sharing the love of God with the people there. Suddenly a beer bottle hit the hood of our car, thrown by an angry gypsy man. The gypsies in those days made a living in that area showing movies and charging admission, and we were counted as competition because we were in the camp when he got there, already showing a gospel movie to the people. In the next few days, I made it a point to find out that that group of gypsies spoke another language, but I didn’t get a name for it. I contacted GR, and they sent three cassettes.

The gypsy man I played those cassettes for did understand one very well, but he didn’t like the name on the label. They call themselves (and their language) ‘Rumany.’ So we eventually recorded some of that language for distribution. Then the gypsies all seemed very happy with the cassettes and exclaimed that they understood every word.

Some time later, we met a lady of that band, who told us that God was working in their midst. They were learning to pray and walk with God, and getting answers to their prayers. She told of one of them that went to the hospital with cancer, and the doctors said there was no hope for him. The other new gypsy believers gathered round him and prayed, and he went back to his tent, and went out the following day to his work of showing movies to support his family. As far as I know he is still alive and strong. She and they regarded it as a miracle healing in answer to prayer.

Dave MacMullin
McAllister, Texas