Another Person Encounters the Eyes of Yilmaz
One of my readers sent me a long, superbly written comment about this website on a posting about the Café Efsane. She believes that she too met the little boy of Istanbul. It our world that becomes smaller today. Truly knowing everyone is a matter of “Six Degrees of Separation”, I believe in the theory of Six Degrees of Separation. I already knew this lady through the little boy of Istanbul, and, in turn, she already knew me through the little boy of Istanbul. We then had to discover the Other.
I asked her permission to post her comment as an article on this site. Her name is Teresa. I do not believe that she has a website or blog of her own. Please read further to learn of her story. I wanted to share this with you.
The Lady Teresa wrote,
“My dearest lady, thank you for your visions and stories. I too saw the little boy of Istanbul. We took a trip, mid summer, last July, to pray and to learn what this ancient city would speak to us. The Man of Peace, took us there, to that city with broken walls and firm foundations. I believe He took us there to weep and to love. To weep for so many who have abused faith for wars, to love not just a land, or a history, but a people dear to Him. To see His glory was more intense in the eyes of the market man, than in a thousand beautiful sunsets over the Bosphorous.
On a Tuesday, late in the night in an upper room, as we prayed and sang, I saw a street. It seemed so real, that I keep opening my eyes to see if I was there. The air in the room felt like outside air, the Peace that I felt was as rich as a perfume. I felt we were all outside on this beautiful street singing for our love –Isa. I didn’t see Him in this vision, but it seemed that at any moment, He would be there among us, walking down this street. It was overwhelming, but in a most beautiful way.
Two nights later, we walked near Taksim, down Istiklal. I loved this part of town, it felt so alive and the people so excited. We sat in a cafe and had some demli tea. Then as the sun was setting, we made our way back to catch the 10:00 ferry. We walked down an alley where all the music stores and street musicians reminded me our our night of singing. I began to tell our Istanbul friends about what I had seen in my vision. Just as I started descibing the street scene, we turned a corner, and I looked up and saw the exact street. My whole body trembled at this sign. Never has heaven felt so close. But what did it mean? and why had our time ran out? It was almost 10:00. When went back home, but I was determined to return. Two days later, my husband and I went back. We had to. This beautiful force of love and mystery compelled us. We spent the evening on Istiklal and talked with different store keepers, sometimes Turkish, sometimes Spanish, and of course our native tongue. We wanted to know why this place, these people are so special.
Again as the crescent moon won over the sun, we made our way back down the same narrow streets. We found the place of the vision and sat down. We weren’t expecting much, and we simply started to sing. It was lovely and peaceful, and after singing for a while, we were about to leave. Just then, a young boy came over to us and kneeled down. He was only about 12, a Kurdish boy. He asked if he could shine our shoes. Of course he could. He shined my husbands brown leather shoes and talked about his family and that he helps support them with this work. Then he wanted to shine my shoes, but I wanted to just give him money so he could get home before dark. He insisted. He cleaned my shoes and when he looked in my eyes, I felt I was looking into the eyes of Jesus. He was there. Somehow in this little boy, I saw God.
He will not shout or cry out or raise his voice in the streets. A bruised reed he will not break and a smoldering wick he will not snuff out.”
