Dear Friends,

We’d like to introduce you to a man named Nándor.

Nándor lives in northern Serbia, where Larry partners with Pastor Zoltán and the local Baptist church. In the 1990s, during the Serbian war, Nándor served as a radio operator. When the war ended and he returned home, something in him had changed. Like so many who carry invisible wounds, he never quite found his way back to the life he had known.

In recent years, Nándor has been scraping by. He has struggled to care for himself and for his home, and his diet has been painfully inadequate. On weekdays, the Red Cross soup kitchen provides him with a small cup of soup and half a bread roll—usually his only meal of the day.

Larry first met Nándor while delivering firewood with the church. That simple act of warmth became the beginning of a relationship. Nándor was overjoyed to talk with Larry. He speaks English, and with bright eyes he shared that years ago he used to communicate with people all over the world by radio. These days, he rarely has anyone to talk to. The conversation itself felt like a gift.

As trust grew, the church learned more about just how difficult life had become for him. Mónika, one of Larry’s ministry partners, offered to begin helping with weekly housekeeping. This practical care has brought immediate and visible change—his home is cleaner, healthier, and more livable. But even more importantly, Nándor himself is changing.

He told us that for the past two years, before the church became involved, he felt as though he was “two meters underground”—as if he were already dead. Now, he is attending church. He told Larry that he and God are talking about the future.

As Larry said when he was telling me the story, “That hope is so strong.”

There’s a lady from the church who stops by and brings him food from time to time. Larry shared with him that what he recently experienced is God’s love—the most powerful thing in the universe.

Friends, this is why your partnership matters. Because of you, help arrives not only as firewood or food or housekeeping, but as presence, dignity, conversation, and hope. Together, we are witnessing what happens when someone who has felt buried begins to breathe again.

Thank you for walking with us, for caring about people you may never meet, and for being part of God’s restoring work in places that are often unseen.

With deep gratitude,

Becky & Larry