Escape From Father in Paris

By Malika Leocadie

I was born into a non-Christian family in Algeria, but I didn’t live like people of my faith were supposed to live. My parents left me with my grandmother and moved to France when I was 3. After I turned 18, my father brought me to Paris to take care of his new wife and children.

Image © Pacific Press

My time with them was hell. Father was a hard man. Not only did he order me to tidy up the house and care for the children, but he also used me as if I were his wife. When I refused his advances, he beat me. After several years, I tried to commit suicide.

Father forbade me from leaving the house except to take the children to school. One day as I walked the children to school, I met a young man, a next-door neighbor, who took pity on me. Seeing the bruises on my face, he gave me a piece of paper with his mother’s phone number. But I didn’t call for help.

Instead, I spent a lot of time looking out the window, longing to be free. The young man saw me and told his mother, “Did you see the girl who is always looking out the window? She will be my wife one day.”

I didn’t hear the conversation, but I sensed that the young man wanted to marry me. I dismissed the thought. I couldn’t marry someone outside my faith.

My life reached the point that I couldn’t stop crying. Father came into my room every night. I didn’t want to live. On night, I looked out the window at the dark sky and poured out my heart to God. I was sure that a God lived in the sky. I remembered Grandmother telling me about a God. “I will marry that young man,” I told myself. “I will have a house and children.”

The next day, Father beat me again and left the house. His wife insulted me and went on an errand. The children were at school. I called the young man.

“I want to go with you,” I said.

“I’ll get you in an hour,” he said.

I packed all my belongings. Getting into his car, I learned that his name was Juleen and he was a Seventh-day Adventist from the West Indies. His mother, Simone, had made arrangements for me to stay with another Adventist family where Father would not find me in Paris. The family also was from Algeria.

That’s how I met Jesus. Today Juleen and I have our own home and children. We worship every Sabbath in church. My father eventually found me and, weeping, asked for forgiveness. I forgave him.

Father has since died, and the rest of my family has rejected me for becoming a Christian. The church is my new family.

Thank you for your Sabbath School mission offerings that help spread the gospel around the world.

Produced by the General Conference Office of Adventist Mission.
Find more mission stories at adventistmission[dot]org

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