In Caxias, Brazil. This is where I met a black, white-haired, soft-spoken woman, who always had an uplifting word to share.

Not only that, but there was so much more to this woman, so today I am going to tell you a little bit of her story and her importance in my life.

Mrs. Elza, the oldest assistant of the Church.

Mrs. Elza came the first meeting every day, she never missed one. She had an amazing will!

She was the first to arrive. When I opened the Church, she was already waiting at the door to enter the House of God. Sometimes, the sun hadn’t even come up yet, but Mrs. Elza was already at the door, waiting to come in…

When she came in, she headed straight to the Altar and kneeled down to pray. I imagine that, because she consistently came to the first meeting, when she was on her knees, she must have been praying for me, the evangelists, the bishop, the people who came to the meeting and for herself, so that she could be useful and souls could be won for the Kingdom of God.

Mrs. Elza lived by herself and did not have children. She did not have anyone. She lived for God, she lived for the Work of God.

She was a dedicated assistant of prayer.

After praying at the Altar, she prepared everything for the meeting: the Lord’s Supper, purposes and everything else, always with love and lots of attention to detail. She sought to do her best for God. She wholeheartedly counseled people with love and care.

As I’m here thinking, I remember that she was the oldest, yet she was the first to arrive to Church.

The were several instances when the evangelist and I were hungry – at the time, the Church was buying Rede Record, so we were all sacrificing in favor of something greater for the Work of God – but Mrs. Elza, who was retired, gave her tithe and helped us out during those hard times. However, she always had her daily bread.

During the week, she would gather eggs from her chickens and bring enough for all of us.

She often brought us food, and the delicious aroma would invade the kitchen! Two plates held together by a blue dish cloth, which read: “THE LORD IS MY SHEPHERD, I SHALL NOT WANT.” There were no limits to her generosity.

One day, we opened the Church, but Mrs. Elza was not waiting at the door. That day, we didn’t see her praying at the Altar, nor did she prepare everything for the meeting that was about to start.

We noticed she wasn’t there and found it strange.

Days later, we found Mrs. Elza at home, and as usual she was on her knees, but she was no longer there.

She died praying.

I’m sure she was praying for the Work of God, which she loved so much, and the bishops, pastors, for me, for you

I miss Mrs. Elza.

Her food, her care for us, her dedication to the Work of God and the Church, the attention she gave all those who walked through the Church doors.

Mrs. Elza was a mother. An angel who took care of us.

She was more than 80 years old when she left us.

You know, Mrs. Elza seemed to make the day go by a little easier.

Mrs. Elza had an unforgettable catchphrase: “Pastor, those who are on their knees do not stumble.”

She did not stumble!