I was the fourth in the family to be attacked by malaria. But by then there was a cure to malaria, and yet, we used nets when we slept in our own homes. WE took a prevention tablet each week. I was on a ten day tour of the 15 village congregations in the agency area. Due to the heat of late April’s hot season I was forgetting and not even thinking about my malaria pills. IN a little school and prayer shed we were in the midst of evening communion service, and had actually begun to pass out the bread when I fainted. I woke up lying on a small cot in the worship place covered with blankets, shaking uncontrollably. The catechist was kneeling by my cot praying for me, and some of the women and children were crying. The catechist felt so badly for me and for this small congregation. He asked, “Could we not finish the communion service?” I answered, “ Yes, Bonku Samuel John. The bread and wine have already been blessed I can at least sit here and pass the bread and you give the wine to each one.” Our service ended with a joyful hymn of thanksgiving and hope. They brought my bag to me, I took my medicine and after a cup of hot tea, slept there all night. The village elders had already sent a young man on cycle to my pastor in Yeleswaram to send my car to a nearest road village. The next morning I went by bullock cart with all my stuff to that village where the car was waiting. I was taken home.