#12--Of Angels and Dreams

Here ithey are...Challenging and imposing: The Blank Page, my sense of responsibility and having no idea of what to write about... Let me tell you about a woman I met this week. I went down to the cafeteria at work looking for frozen yogurt. Mercedes, the cashier, kindly as usual, helped me fill my little cup because my non-functioning hand can't be bothered with daily stuff as this. While Mercedes and I were trying to figure out how I could handle carrying cane and dessert with one hand all by myself, a lady in line offered to help me to my desk . Mercedes (Meche) has practice and experience with me, since frequently enough she and Sylvia, the other cashier, get my coffee and morning pastry ready in such a way that I can manage walking with my breakfast wrapped in bags, in a way that I can walk with my cane and carry my goodies back to my desk without spilling my drink. After my stroke, I'm no stranger to human kindness from the most unusual sources. So once again, I remembered the importance of humility and the value in accepting help, and I allowed this person whom I had never met to bring my yogurt to my desk. She told me she lost her husband Carroll to Lou Ghering's some years ago and that she tries to make it a point to help people with limitations such as myself when she gets a chance. I told her that for that moment I saw her as an angel and that I was grateful. When she asked if she could help me with anything else, I just said feeling the tears coming into my eyes, to please pray for me and my healing, as I tend to do now when I have conversations like these with virtual strangers. A couple of days later she walked with me again and gave me a beautiful rosary with wood beads that I received with due humility. What an offering! What a privilege to someone like me, for so many years an atheist, to receive the grace of this wonderful gift. Thank you, Liza Nelson. I treasure it with reverence, and see it as a conspiratorial wink from God. My dream? It was wonderful. Sunday morning I woke after dreaming that my left hand was finally again under my command. I was in uncontrollable tears. I called my mother to tell her that I would start the day working with both hands a-flutter and happy over my keyboard. Coincidence? I choose to believe not...