Surprised by Love
There’s no getting around it, no matter how good you have it, or how happy your life is, sometimes things are difficult. Some personal losses this past month have put me in the mood to share a few small stories of times when some unexpected love has come my way. I hope they will trigger memories of your own past surprises that will give you a lift next time you need one.
The bus
Everyone was exhausted. Packed inside the bus they stared ahead glassy-eyed. Even the children were too tired to make a fuss. Directly in front of me was a boy, maybe eight years old, sitting in a complicated looking wheelchair. I wasn’t really seeing him though and he was locked away in his own private world. The bus came to a stop, but it wasn’t our stop. When the doors closed, the father reached over and touched the boy’s arm. “Are you cold?” No response. There would never be a response. The father took a sweatshirt from somewhere on the chair and began to gently thread the boy’s arm into the sleeve. It was a long process, but he talked softly to his son while he worked and was so patient and kind that I came up out of my stupor and really looked at him. What I saw made me smile all over. The depth of love on that father’s face isn’t often seen in public. As I watched, I didn’t feel tired anymore. I was lost in the deep peace of the scene. Only love can transform a theme park bus into a holy place.
The best co-worker
One day when I arrived at work my co-worker, Mary rushed up to me.
“Anneli, are you okay?!”
“Sure, I’m fine. What’s wrong?”
“But your daughter….I mean, is she home? Is she all right?”
“Well, I just dropped her off at school...wait, did the school call?! Is she ok??”
“But isn’t her name Catherine?... I don’t understand...”
Here’s what happened. Late the night before, Mary was listening to the radio when a missing child alert came on. A girl named Catherine hadn’t come home. She remembered vaguely that my daughter was named Catherine. She had met her a couple of times. The more she listened, the more alarmed she became. She couldn’t remember exactly what Catherine looked like, but everything was sounding about right---school, height, weight, brown hair, glasses, clothing, all could well be my daughter. Then she caught the last name, Byrd. Oh no!
Mary didn’t want to call me in the middle of a crisis, so she did the only thing she could. She got down on her knees and prayed. But she couldn’t sleep. She told me that she’d gotten up out of bed three times that night to kneel and pray for my daughter.
I was, and still am, touched. How do you thank someone for caring so much that they lose a night’s sleep on behalf of someone you love? You can’t.
Unbeknownst to Mary, there happened to be two girls at McKinley Jr. High named Catherine Byrd. They actually didn’t look anything alike, but just going by a description they sounded identical. I found out later that the other Catherine had gotten upset and had run off and taken a bus to her uncle’s house. They found her safe the next day.
A gift from the homeless
When we moved to Ogden from Iowa it was a scary step. Dave had gotten a tenure track position at Weber State, which was close to both of our families. It was exciting, but we knew the transition would be tough on all of us. At the start he would make much less than he had been making in Iowa and the cost of living in Ogden is significantly higher than in Cedar Rapids. Plus, the student loans would be coming due and I wouldn’t have a job at all. Still, I’d never had trouble finding work, so even though the economy was bad, and wages had frozen all over the country, we were sure we could make it work and we made the move. After a few weeks I was a lot less sure. No one seemed to be hiring and our savings were almost gone.
One day I had an interview at a government office downtown, but it didn’t go particularly well. I don’t think I looked as discouraged and worried as I felt as I walked to the car, but maybe I did because a homeless man came up to me. He didn’t ask for money. He just looked at me kindly and said. “Jesus loves you. Everything is going to be all right,” and walked off. I was too surprised to say anything or go after him. I just stood there slowly realizing that I believed him. And the more I thought about it, the more I believed him. I wish I could find him. He gave me hope, and I did get a job and things were all right.
Love really is all around us.
There’s no getting around it, no matter how good you have it, or how happy your life is, sometimes things are difficult. Some personal losses this past month have put me in the mood to share a few small stories of times when some unexpected love has come my way. I hope they will trigger memories of your own past surprises that will give you a lift next time you need one.
The bus
Everyone was exhausted. Packed inside the bus they stared ahead glassy-eyed. Even the children were too tired to make a fuss. Directly in front of me was a boy, maybe eight years old, sitting in a complicated looking wheelchair. I wasn’t really seeing him though and he was locked away in his own private world. The bus came to a stop, but it wasn’t our stop. When the doors closed, the father reached over and touched the boy’s arm. “Are you cold?” No response. There would never be a response. The father took a sweatshirt from somewhere on the chair and began to gently thread the boy’s arm into the sleeve. It was a long process, but he talked softly to his son while he worked and was so patient and kind that I came up out of my stupor and really looked at him. What I saw made me smile all over. The depth of love on that father’s face isn’t often seen in public. As I watched, I didn’t feel tired anymore. I was lost in the deep peace of the scene. Only love can transform a theme park bus into a holy place.
The best co-worker
One day when I arrived at work my co-worker, Mary rushed up to me.
“Anneli, are you okay?!”
“Sure, I’m fine. What’s wrong?”
“But your daughter….I mean, is she home? Is she all right?”
“Well, I just dropped her off at school...wait, did the school call?! Is she ok??”
“But isn’t her name Catherine?... I don’t understand...”
Here’s what happened. Late the night before, Mary was listening to the radio when a missing child alert came on. A girl named Catherine hadn’t come home. She remembered vaguely that my daughter was named Catherine. She had met her a couple of times. The more she listened, the more alarmed she became. She couldn’t remember exactly what Catherine looked like, but everything was sounding about right---school, height, weight, brown hair, glasses, clothing, all could well be my daughter. Then she caught the last name, Byrd. Oh no!
Mary didn’t want to call me in the middle of a crisis, so she did the only thing she could. She got down on her knees and prayed. But she couldn’t sleep. She told me that she’d gotten up out of bed three times that night to kneel and pray for my daughter.
I was, and still am, touched. How do you thank someone for caring so much that they lose a night’s sleep on behalf of someone you love? You can’t.
Unbeknownst to Mary, there happened to be two girls at McKinley Jr. High named Catherine Byrd. They actually didn’t look anything alike, but just going by a description they sounded identical. I found out later that the other Catherine had gotten upset and had run off and taken a bus to her uncle’s house. They found her safe the next day.
A gift from the homeless
When we moved to Ogden from Iowa it was a scary step. Dave had gotten a tenure track position at Weber State, which was close to both of our families. It was exciting, but we knew the transition would be tough on all of us. At the start he would make much less than he had been making in Iowa and the cost of living in Ogden is significantly higher than in Cedar Rapids. Plus, the student loans would be coming due and I wouldn’t have a job at all. Still, I’d never had trouble finding work, so even though the economy was bad, and wages had frozen all over the country, we were sure we could make it work and we made the move. After a few weeks I was a lot less sure. No one seemed to be hiring and our savings were almost gone.
One day I had an interview at a government office downtown, but it didn’t go particularly well. I don’t think I looked as discouraged and worried as I felt as I walked to the car, but maybe I did because a homeless man came up to me. He didn’t ask for money. He just looked at me kindly and said. “Jesus loves you. Everything is going to be all right,” and walked off. I was too surprised to say anything or go after him. I just stood there slowly realizing that I believed him. And the more I thought about it, the more I believed him. I wish I could find him. He gave me hope, and I did get a job and things were all right.
Love really is all around us.