We told the priest that we might harm the driver. He answered: “Kill him. Use my robe to wipe his blood off your hands!” Although I was very proud of my Greek Orthodox background, those angry words later moved me to quit the church. In retrospect, I realize that this situation helped me to discover the truth about Jehovah.

 When I was growing up, the port city of Tripoli was bustling with people from different cultures, languages, and religions. Each family was proud of its roots, and my family was no exception. My older brothers and I joined a group called Soldiers of the Faith, a who opposed Jehovah’s Witnesses. We had never met any Witnesses, but our priest said that they were a gang that was against the Greek Orthodox Church and that their leader was Jehovah. Our priest repeatedly told us that we should attack the Witnesses whenever we met them.

 Although I did not know it, three of my brothers had met Jehovah’s Witnesses. But instead of resorting to violence toward them, my brothers agreed to study the Bible with them to prove them wrong. One evening, I came home and found our living room full of Witnesses having a Bible discussion with my family and a few neighbors. I was upset! How could my siblings betray the Orthodox faith? I was about to leave when a neighbor, who was a well-known dentist and also a Witness, told me to sit down and listen. A family friend was reading aloud Psalm 83:18 from my own Bible. At that moment, I realized that our priest had lied to us. Jehovah was not a gang leader—he was the only true God!

 I wanted to know more about Jehovah, so I started attending the Bible study in our home, which was conducted by Brother Michel Aboud. One day, a friend who was present raised a question that had intrigued me ever since I was a little boy. He asked, “Tell us, who created God?” Brother Aboud drew our attention to a cat lying on a couch. He explained that cats are incapable of understanding the words and reasoning of humans. Similarly, we are incapable of understanding many things about God. That simple illustration helped me appreciate why there are certain aspects of Jehovah’s nature that I could not fully understand. Not long afterward, I dedicated my life to Jehovah God and got baptized in 1946 at the age of 15.

 In 1948, I joined my brother Hanna in his photography business. His shop was located next to a paint shop owned by a brother named Najib Salem. b Najib was a fearless evangelizer, and he continued as such until his death at 100 years of age. When I accompanied him to preach in villages, I could see that he was courageous despite opposition. Also, it seemed that he could start a conversation about the Bible with anyone, regardless of their religion. His zealous example had a lasting influence on me.

 One day, while at work, we were visited by Mary Shaayah, a Lebanese sister from the United States. In addition to being a busy mother, she was also a zealous pioneer. That visit proved to be a turning point in my life. Mary spent more than two hours sharing preaching experiences with us. Before she left, Mary looked at me and said: “Milto, since you are single, why don’t you pioneer?” I objected, saying that I needed to earn a living. Then she asked me: “How long have I been here with you this morning?” I answered: “About two hours.” Mary said: “I haven’t seen you do much work during this time. If you preached for about that amount of time each day, you could be a pioneer. Just try it for one year and then decide whether to continue or not.”

 Although men in my culture would not readily take advice from a woman, her suggestion sounded reasonable to me. Two months later, in January 1952, I started in the pioneer service. About 18 months later, I received an invitation to attend the 22nd class of Gilead School.

 After graduating, I was assigned to the Middle East. Less than a year later, I married Doris Wood, a cheerful fellow missionary from England who was also serving in the Middle East.

 Shortly after our wedding, Doris and I were assigned to Aleppo, Syria. Since our preaching activity was under ban there, we met most of those with whom we studied the Bible through referrals.

 One day, we called on a lady who had shown interest in the Bible. Trembling with fear, she opened the door and told us: “Be careful! The police came just now. They wanted to know where you are living.” Clearly, the secret police knew where we conducted Bible studies. We called the brothers who supervised the work in the Middle East, and they advised us to leave the country as quickly as possible. Even though we were sad to leave our Bible students behind, we felt Jehovah’s loving protection.

 In 1955, we were reassigned to Baghdad, Iraq. Although we could preach discreetly to all people in Iraq, we focused our efforts on individuals from a Christian background.

 We also tried to engage in friendly conversations with Muslims at the market or in the streets. Doris would often share thoughts her listeners might enjoy. For example, she would say: “My father used to say that we will all stand before our Maker.” (Romans 14:12) Then she would add: “This thought has always helped me in my life. What do you think about it?”

 We enjoyed serving in Baghdad for nearly three years, helping local brothers to organize the preaching work discreetly. We used our missionary home to hold meetings in the Arabic language. What a joy it was to welcome sincere individuals from the Assyrian community, an ethnic group that is made up mainly of nominal Christians. When they saw for themselves the love and unity that prevailed at our meetings, they realized that we were genuine disciples of Jesus.—John 13:35.

 Among those who responded quickly to our message of peace was Nicolas Aziz, a gentle and humble family man from Armenian and Assyrian roots. Nicolas and his wife, Helen, quickly accepted what the Bible teaches about Jehovah and his Son, Jesus—that they are two distinct beings. (1 Corinthians 8:5, 6) I still remember the day when Nicolas and 20 others were baptized in the Euphrates River.

 Some time after the coup d’état that led to the death of Iraq’s King Faisal II on July 14, 1958, we were deported to Iran. There we cautiously continued our ministry among foreigners for about six months.

 Just before leaving Tehran, the capital of Iran, I was taken to a police station for questioning. This made me realize that we were under police surveillance. After the interrogation, I contacted Doris and told her that the police were watching us. We agreed that, for our safety, I should not return home and we would not stay together until our imminent departure from the country.

 Doris found a safe place to stay until we could meet at the airport. But how would she get there undetected? Doris prayed to Jehovah about the matter.

 Suddenly, heavy rain poured down, causing everyone to find shelter, including the police. The streets were now empty, allowing Doris to move freely. Doris says, “That flood was a true miracle!”

 After leaving Iran, we were reassigned to another territory, where we preached to people from various ethnic and religious backgrounds. By 1961, we were in circuit work, visiting fellow believers in different parts of the Middle East.

 I had many opportunities to see the unifying power of God’s holy spirit in our ministry in the Middle East. I still remember the lively conversations I had as I studied the Bible with two Palestinians, Eddy and Nicolas. They both enjoyed attending our meetings, but they quickly stopped their Bible study because of their strong political views. I prayed that Jehovah would open their hearts. When they realized that God would solve the problems, not just of the Palestinians but of all mankind, they resumed their study. (Isaiah 2:4) They rid themselves of their national pride and got baptized. Nicolas later became a zealous circuit overseer.

 As we traveled from one country to another, Doris and I were impressed by the faithfulness of our brothers, whatever the circumstances. Since they had so much to endure, I resolved to be a source of comfort during my visits as a circuit overseer. (Romans 1:11, 12) To achieve this goal, I have always endeavored to see myself on the same level as my brothers and sisters. (1 Corinthians 9:22) I found great satisfaction in giving encouragement to fellow believers who needed support.

 What a thrill it has been to watch many of those with whom we studied the Bible become faithful servants of Jehovah. A few moved abroad with their families to escape armed conflicts in their country. But they have become a blessing to those serving in the Arabic-speaking field in Australia, Canada, Europe, and the United States. In recent years, some of their grown-up children have returned to the Middle East to serve where there is a greater need for courageous evangelizers. What a joy for Doris and me to be surrounded by so many spiritual children and grandchildren!

 Throughout our life, we have felt Jehovah’s care and direction in many ways. I am so grateful that he helped me get rid of the prejudice and national pride I had developed as a young man. The training I received from bold and impartial fellow believers prepared me to share Bible truth with individuals from different backgrounds. As we traveled from one country to another, Doris and I faced many challenges and uncertainties. But this taught us to rely exclusively on Jehovah God and not on ourselves.—Psalm 16:8.

 When I think back over the many decades I have served Jehovah, I realize that I owe so much to my heavenly Father. I agree with my dear Doris, who often says that nothing should stop our exclusive devotion to Jehovah, not even the threat of death! We will always be grateful to Jehovah for allowing us to share in spreading a peaceful message in the Middle East. (Psalm 46:8, 9) We look to the future with confidence, knowing that Jehovah continues to direct and protect all those leaning on him.—Isaiah 26:3.