The lady next to me...

...on the bus sighed rather heavily and seemed distressed. I tentatively made sympathetic noises. We got chatting.She was on her way back from hospital - she had something wrong with one arm, and it had given her trouble in the night so she had hurried there and now, after treatment, was on her way home. She had a number of other worries. She spoke with a foreign accent. I wondered if she was perhaps a Catholic. When I said I'd remember her in my prayers she responded very nicely and said yes, she believed very much in prayer. I hesitated for a moment and then said "Why not ask Blessed John Paul to pray for you?" She looked interested "Who is he?" she said. Oh dear, evidently not a Catholic. It turned out she was a Moslem. "But I understand" she said "A good man, with a pure heart. You say to him: take this message to Allah, and he does? That's what we do, too." We talked a bit more "Yes, I will ask this John to pray for me to Allah" she said "And it is so good that we met and spoke like this.I feel better already." And we parted like close friends, although we hadn't even exchanged names, and the whole morning felt brighter somehow.