I lived in the countryside where a main road crossed the entire neighborhood and led to the city of Havana about fifteen kilometers away. The splendor of my childhood was absolute poverty but freedom. I grew up surrounded by many trees, animals and rivers. The river was 1 mile from my house. I had to cross the entire field to get to the river. One day, I was walking by the river with my cousin Luisa, when we saw more than twelve young men jumping from a rock into the water. We loved seeing them come out of the water to climb the rock and jump back into the river with their genitals exposed. All these images were a revelation for me that I will never forget. My mother was very beautiful and my father was an adventurer. They fell in love and officially got engaged, but a few months later my father left my mother. She was waiting for him, but he never came back. One night my mother asked me if I would really feel sad if she died. I looked into his eyes and started to cry. I think my mother was very young to make a decision and also didn't have the experience needed to raise a child. My grandmother was the heart of the house. She always spoke with God to realize all the misfortunes that threatened us. On the other hand, my grandfather was a bald old man who did not speak with God; he was talking to himself. My grandmother was illiterate, but she did everything possible to send all her children to school. When I started going to school, I felt in love with some of my classmates, but never got involved in sexuality. My first sexual encounter was with my best friend Frank. When it was all over, I felt guilty. It seemed to me that I had done something terrible. I was ashamed of myself for the rest of my life. I still feel guilty, ... middle of paper ...... his own life and how God met him when he was in trouble. I had never heard such a testimony. “How could he help me?” I need a miracle,” I told him. This young man told me that if I would just believe in Jesus Christ as my savior, He would give me faith and do the rest. I wanted to accept Jesus as my savior. I didn't want to die, but I believe that when the alternative is to suffer without hope, death is better. If I can't live the way I want to, there's no point in living. It was ten o'clock in the evening when I returned home and accepted Jesus as my Savior. Suddenly I felt in my heart that something happened. I underwent a medical examination again, with the same doctor. After a while, he came out, came up to me and said, “There's nothing wrong with you. "Yes," I replied, "but something happened." “The test gives a false positive.” He looked at me for an explanation.