As a young believer, one of the thinkers I most admired was Francis Schaeffer. His books had a great influence on me, and I was especially impressed by his wife’s book, L’abri, in which she told how they opened their home and study center in the Swiss Alps to one and all, expected or not.

I arrived in Spain in October, 1976, and that Christmas was going to be my very first Christmas without any family. I talked to Jeannine and Mark, two other single workers, and convinced them that we should go to L’Abri over Christmas. They thought that was a great idea, and our preacher’s son, only 17, really wanted to go with us, so after all the Christmas programs and parties at church, we took off in the most powerful of the mission’s cars, to insure making it over the Alps in winter.

We spent the first night with a girl who had been an exchange student that I’d supervised during my first year of teaching. She had a tiny apartment, but she graciously hosted all of us. We didn’t mind the cramped quarters, as we knew we were headed to L’Abri!

Unfortunately, a LOT of other students and young workers in Europe had the same idea. We arrived on Christmas Eve, only to find the place jammed beyond capacity, and that they absolutely could not host us overnight. We were welcomed to eat there, and attend the sessions, but we couldn’t spend the night. We were all living on pretty small salaries, and hotel rooms in the little town were super expensive. The guys actually wanted to sleep in a barn with the cows, to save money, but Jeannine and I refused to consider that idea. We ended up pooling our funds and sharing one room for several nights—with a double bed that closely resembled the Alps in its bumpy-ness for Jeannine and me, and with the guys on the floor. We howled ourselves to sleep that night, hilariously laughing at our ludicrous situation, but eagerly awaiting the next day’s audience with the great Francis Schaeffer.

We were not disappointed, although I was personally SHOCKED when a very short man, wearing only socks, walked in and climbed up on the hearth to speak. I realized at that moment that I had a prejudice (unrealized prior to that instant) which thought that all smart people were tall. How wrong I was! He was short, but he was brilliant, and we LOVED the 2 days of sitting at his feet.

All too soon it was time to head back. As we motored through France, heading toward Spain, I saw a sign that said “Andorra”. I was already well into my lifelong pursuit of ever new countries to visit, so I hollered out to the others, “Let’s go to Andorra!” I knew intellectually that it was a tiny country in the middle of the Pyrenees Mountains. What that might mean in December never occurred to me.

It was not snowing as we headed up the road, but soon it started to blizzard. We had sent Mark to the bazaar in Madrid to buy us snow chains before we left, but he had little experience with them, and he was frugal beyond words, so he had gotten poor quality ones that were too small for the tires. We crept along until it was imperative to put them on, but they kept falling off! The road just got icier and icier, and it was a sheer drop off over the cliff. There was so much snow, we could only tell where we were on the road by the tall poles that were placed about every 10 meters apart to show the edge.

And then the worst possible thing happened! The snow continued to pour down, but the sun came out, causing a nearly complete white out! At this point we all started to panic, and we immediately started praying out loud—in English, Spanish, and Catalan, Jony’s native tongue. It was so incredibly slow going that while one drove, the other 3 got out and walked alongside the car anytime someone came in the other direction, literally pushing away cars that were sliding toward us. It was fairly easy to slide them on the ice, but still very scary! I’m sure at some point we discussed turning around, but we were afraid to go back over that twisting road, and we kept thinking that we’d have to arrive somewhere soon. But hours passed, we crept along, and we didn’t get to a town.

Finally, well after dark, and with the gas gauge below E, we got to the border crossing. An astonished guard came out and demanded, “Where did you come from?!” We said, “France!” He said, “That is impossible! That road has been closed since noon today because of the blizzard. No one has come through here in hours!” We must have started down the road just before it was closed. And God, who delights in protecting His children, even when they are foolhardy and buy the wrong snow chains, and foolishly take risks just to add another country to their list, had protected us from immense danger—and kept our car from running out of gas!

There was a ski lodge there, with just one room, and we praised the Lord for it.

We had no money for supper, so we ate crackers in our room and thanked our gracious Father for sparing our lives. And the next day, the sun shone, the roads were cleared, and we were treated to the most spectacular scenery you can imagine! Andorra was absolutely beautiful! God’s creation at its best!

**About the Author: Debi Clifton is a fifth-generation cross-cultural worker. Raised on the Mexican border, Spanish is her first language.  She served nearly four years in Spain as a single gal before marrying one of her financial supporters, Jim Clifton. Jim and Debi have been married nearly 31 years and have two sons, Jim and Davey.  Debi’s hobbies include reading, travel, and embroidery. She taught Spanish at McClintock High School for three years and has been on the staff of Grace since 1999.**