STRANGERS IN THE NIGHT
02/01/09 10:41
“Can you help please?” she called across the street to
me from her vehicle window. Before I could even answer
the slim Oriental woman had stepped out of her SUV into
the deep winter chill.
“”Yes!” I hastened over so she could climb back into the protection of her warm car. I was bundled up in my snowsuit, better prepared for the extreme cold of this New Year’s evening.
“We can’t find this address,” she told me, handing me a Mapquest printout of her destination. As soon as I saw it I understood. She was looking for a house on the far west side of town and where she found me was so far east it was not even on her printout. I knew it would be difficult to explain so I did something unthinkable in today’s world.
“I am on my way home from visiting my new grandbaby,” I began, wanting to allay her fears since grandmothers are usually a safe bet! Then I asked if I could get in the back seat and simply direct her. Since I was already walking home, it didn’t matter to me if I went home from a different direction.
“Oh yes, thank you,” she said, moving some packages to make room for me.
Once inside I saw the other young woman and asked if they were sisters.
“No, we are mother, daughter,” was the answer with laughter from both.
As we drove by the RCMP detachment, the driver, Xiaoyan, told me she and her daughter Doris had stopped there hoping for help but it was closed along with the rest of our little town on the first day of 2009. They had begun to lose hope when they saw me walking – I was the only person out on the streets that night, they said.
“I don’t usually walk at night when it’s this cold,” I explained, “but I couldn’t tear myself away from the baby so I stayed longer than planned.” My son-in-law had offered to drive me home but since I was well dressed and needing to walk off some holiday goodies I had struck out on foot.
As we chatted I learned they were recent immigrants from Mainland China and lived in nearby Calgary; they were not familiar with my town.
Noticing the call numbers on their radio were set at our only Christian FM station, I asked if they were Christians. They said they were and I asked them if they went to a church in Calgary.
“Actually, we are coming here to see our pastor,” Doris answered.
“Who is he?” There are several churches and many ministers in our town of 16,000 but you never know….
“Paul Johnson,” she replied.
I almost jumped out of my seatbelt. “He’s my friend! He works with my husband!” I knew this encounter was no coincidence.
Surprised to see me on his doorstep with his late but expected guests, Paul began to make introductions.
“We’re already friends,” we interrupted and told him the story.
My husband came to get me and we were sent away with hugs and Chinese tea and fresh pie. As we drove home I remembered my New Year’s morning prayer, long forgotten in the bustle of a busy day. “Lord, you know how prone I am to doubting You. Reveal Yourself to me today in an unmistakable way,” I prayed with Thomas-like faith. Only God can bring together total strangers in such a way that the encounter is the answer to each other’s prayer.
“”Yes!” I hastened over so she could climb back into the protection of her warm car. I was bundled up in my snowsuit, better prepared for the extreme cold of this New Year’s evening.
“We can’t find this address,” she told me, handing me a Mapquest printout of her destination. As soon as I saw it I understood. She was looking for a house on the far west side of town and where she found me was so far east it was not even on her printout. I knew it would be difficult to explain so I did something unthinkable in today’s world.
“I am on my way home from visiting my new grandbaby,” I began, wanting to allay her fears since grandmothers are usually a safe bet! Then I asked if I could get in the back seat and simply direct her. Since I was already walking home, it didn’t matter to me if I went home from a different direction.
“Oh yes, thank you,” she said, moving some packages to make room for me.
Once inside I saw the other young woman and asked if they were sisters.
“No, we are mother, daughter,” was the answer with laughter from both.
As we drove by the RCMP detachment, the driver, Xiaoyan, told me she and her daughter Doris had stopped there hoping for help but it was closed along with the rest of our little town on the first day of 2009. They had begun to lose hope when they saw me walking – I was the only person out on the streets that night, they said.
“I don’t usually walk at night when it’s this cold,” I explained, “but I couldn’t tear myself away from the baby so I stayed longer than planned.” My son-in-law had offered to drive me home but since I was well dressed and needing to walk off some holiday goodies I had struck out on foot.
As we chatted I learned they were recent immigrants from Mainland China and lived in nearby Calgary; they were not familiar with my town.
Noticing the call numbers on their radio were set at our only Christian FM station, I asked if they were Christians. They said they were and I asked them if they went to a church in Calgary.
“Actually, we are coming here to see our pastor,” Doris answered.
“Who is he?” There are several churches and many ministers in our town of 16,000 but you never know….
“Paul Johnson,” she replied.
I almost jumped out of my seatbelt. “He’s my friend! He works with my husband!” I knew this encounter was no coincidence.
Surprised to see me on his doorstep with his late but expected guests, Paul began to make introductions.
“We’re already friends,” we interrupted and told him the story.
My husband came to get me and we were sent away with hugs and Chinese tea and fresh pie. As we drove home I remembered my New Year’s morning prayer, long forgotten in the bustle of a busy day. “Lord, you know how prone I am to doubting You. Reveal Yourself to me today in an unmistakable way,” I prayed with Thomas-like faith. Only God can bring together total strangers in such a way that the encounter is the answer to each other’s prayer.
Way too much email
08/09/08 09:45
Good News! We all have way too much email so I decided
to scale back the newsletter…besides, it cuts into my
grammy time! This monthly-ish newsletter is now a
seasonal newsletter. This is the Fall Edition – yes,
the leaves are already falling here in Alberta. Each
season you’ll get an update of my comings and goings, a
new Slice of Life to make you grin out loud, a free-ish
giveaway offer (it would be totally free if I could
drop it off at your house but I have to use Canada
Post), and in Connie’s Picks, I’ll recommend a great
new book, bible study, or movie that has impacted my
life and might change yours too. Until next time (as we
used to say in my home town) “keep ‘er between the
ditches!”
It’s good to be needed
02/05/08 08:01
They say absence makes the heart grow fonder…it also
makes the bathrooms grow cruddy and the dust bunnies
look like tumbleweed! I’ve been on the road,
figuratively speaking since most of my travel is by
air, most of April and my “whistle stops” on the home
front remind me that my primary role is still
“homemaker.” How do I know this? Because no one else
seems to have replaced me! Aaaahhhhh…it’s good to be
needed.
Don’t ever fly First Class
06/04/08 13:21
Don’t ever
fly First Class. It’ll wreck your future trips “in the
hold”. Gerry and I were upgraded to First Class for our
9-hour trans-Atlantic flight a few days ago and Oh My
Goodness! They feed you until you could burst and ply
you with drink. Then they tip you back in your recliner
seat and cover you with a duvet – forget those
see-through rags you have to fight for in Row 23 -- a
DUVET for Pete’s sake! Yes sir. No Madam. More drinks?
Appetizers? Hot snacks? Ice cream and Fresh Baked
Cookies!? With one hand gripping the remote control on
your personal TV and the other stuffing your face as
fast as you can, time literally flies! When we got to
Toronto we changed planes. We had to sit with the
commoners for our last 4 hours to Calgary, I couldn’t
face it. Hello Gravol (a.k.a. Dramamine). Goodnight.
PUDDLE JUMPING!
07/03/08 07:21
When was
the last time you saw a toddler discover her first mud
puddle? Coming home from the playground today with
just-turned-two Jasmine we crossed a little footbridge
over a stream and she stepped off the end right into a
big puddle. She was wearing boots so I just walked on a
few steps, without worrying, expecting her to follow.
But she didn’t. She just stood there. In wonder. She
stamped one foot and grinned up at me as dirty water
splashed up her legs. “Come on Jasmine,” I coaxed.
“Nope,” she stamped her other foot. And grinned. Then both feet got going. I started grinning.
“It’s a puddle,” I said, staying just out of reach of the flying water.
“Puh-duhl,” she repeated, pausing between syllables like she does. More stamping. More grinning.
Next time we go to the playground, I’m going to wear boots too!
“Nope,” she stamped her other foot. And grinned. Then both feet got going. I started grinning.
“It’s a puddle,” I said, staying just out of reach of the flying water.
“Puh-duhl,” she repeated, pausing between syllables like she does. More stamping. More grinning.
Next time we go to the playground, I’m going to wear boots too!