The Romanian peasant was on his knees, frantically gathering the half-rotten apples strewn all over the mountain road. In the pitch darkness, our rickety little car had plowed into his cart, throwing him off and somersaulting his two horses. As a cold rain and snow fell on this surreal midnight scene, I had never felt less in control. I asked myself, “What in the world am I doing here?” At age 12, I had accepted Christ. The preacher in the big tent at the summer Bible Camp helped me to understand that I was a sinner and needed to receive God’s forgiveness through Jesus Christ.