My husband, his two sisters, and I entertained five out-of-town family members for the weekend. One of the sisters never married, and the other lost her husband a couple of years ago.
My husband and I entertained the guests Friday afternoon and later had a nice dinner for them. The sister who lost her husband provided Saturday’s backyard fun and dinner that evening, while the other sister offered to take everyone to breakfast on Sunday morning before our guests departed.
On Saturday evening, after dinner, there was much discussion as to who was going to church in the morning, should the out of town guests leave early in the morning and go to church in their home town in the evening, if they stayed here, what mass should they go to, who was driving who, and so on.
After the decisions were all made, the sister who lost her husband was to be dropped off by the other sister, and she was to get a ride to breakfast with the others who had gone to church in one vehicle.
When we gathered in the restaurant for breakfast, the sister who was to catch the ride was missing. There was so much confusion over the various plans the evening before, that those riding in the same car did not remember that they were to bring her along. As it so happened, they never saw one another at the church at all.
The sister that was left behind realized that she was in trouble, without a ride, and mentioned it to one of the lingering parishioners. The gentleman assured her that it would be no trouble to drop her off as he was going in that direction anyway.
The left-behind sister explained her story of what had happened, and she and the gentleman had a nice conversation on their way. Nearing their destination, she asked him what his name was. “Joe,” he said, and that brought tears to her eyes. “That was my late husband’s name,” she said.
“Well,” said Joe, “he’s looking out after you.”