The day I was arrested was the day I hit rock bottom. My children only came to visit me fifteen days later, which happened to also be Mother’s Day. At the time, one was six years old and the other was twelve. My daughter gave me a hug and said, “Happy Mother’s Day”. She gave me a book and said, “Mom, read this. A group of assistants was outside and gave it to me. You know it’s the only thing I’m allowed to bring in here since I can’t bring you a present.

My eyes immediately filled with tears and I thought, “I’m not going to be able to handle these visits, this jail and staying away from my children”. My mind started racing, planning how I would kill myself as soon as the visit was over.

The visit continued as normal, but I was suffering with the thought of having my children coming to this place of grief and pain. These thoughts fueled me with the courage to kill myself as soon as they left. Faster than we thought, our visit came to an end, at 3pm, and everyone began to panic. My children left crying excessively and I was locked back in my cell.

That’s when I sat on the rock (bed), lowered my head between my legs and was certain that death was the best option. I began to prepare the pieces of cloth to make a rope, so, once my cellmate fell asleep, I would have everything ready to hang myself.

In between the sheets my daughter brought me was the book. Lovingly, I hugged it as if I was hugging her. It was all I wanted at that moment, and I remembered that she asked me to read it, because one day, Bishop Macedo was falsely arrested and God gave him the victory and He would make me victorious too, since I was only arrested for being the wife of a criminal, not because I had committed any crimes.

These words were hammering in my head, making me question whether or not I should kill myself. I continued to make the rope, but every time I looked at the book I remembered what my daughter had said – it would be worth reading. When I finished, my cellmate had not fallen asleep yet, and, since I was still deciding whether to commit suicide or read the book, I opted to read.
Unexpectedly, when I finally noticed, I had been reading for five hours, and there was no longer a desire or the courage in my heart to kill myself.

After being locked up for six months, I went to trial and was acquitted (proven my innocence), I had an encounter with God. Today, I am one of evangelists at the prison. I find pleasure in donating books to the families of detainees. I am the Universal.

Silvia Ramos da Silva