The hills of Seattle vie with any San Francisco streets of song or movie fame. On my way to O’Dea High School to pick up my grandson, I got off I-5 and headed uphill on James, a steep incline interrupted by red lights that leave you pitched skyward waiting for the light to change. I slipped the clutch out of gear and pulled up the emergency break, a precaution against tailgating. Locked firmly in place, I was startled by a sudden jolt from behind and looked into my rearview mirror to see a driver shrugging back a helpless “I’m sorry.” We pulled through the intersection and into a vacant lot.
The young man who approached was heavily bearded, wearing sunglasses and a stocking cap, essentially faceless. My initial unease was alleviated by his concern for me. “Are you okay? I am so sorry. Are you sure you’re okay? I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m on the way to the hospital and I was so distracted.”
It was my turn to put him at ease. The hospital? Why was he going to the hospital?
“It’s my cousin. She’s had a stroke and I want to get there to see her.”
I noted his age and asked if his cousin was similarly young.
“She’s only in her thirties. It happened last night, and I just got the call this morning. They are running some tests and I want to be there when she gets back to her room.”
He was clearly shaken as much by her circumstances as by the accident. I asked if he’d be willing to give me her name and said I’d like to pray for her today if that was okay with him.
“You’d do that?” he asked. “I know it’s a Catholic hospital and they are praying for her. But you’d do that too? You don’t even know her.”
“God does,” I smiled in answer. He looked down for a moment, exhaled and looked directly at me. "Yeah, her name is Nancy," he said with a slight smile.
We checked out the two cars and saw no real signs of damage. There was the perfect imprint of his license plate screw on my back bumper, but all else seemed okay. I told him I’d like to take my car to the dealer and check the undercarriage and he readily agreed.
That’s when we exchanged business cards. I handed him one of my Sisters In Scripture cards and he handed me his.
Silence.
“Uh…awkward,” he said aloud.
I looked down at his card: Gerry’s Adult Video Store.
A bit more silence.
I offered to call him once I’d finished at the dealers and said he could tell me then how Nancy was doing. He shook his head as if just waking up.
“Yeah, sure,” he said, and we both retreated to our cars and headed up the hill to the hospital and the high school.
“You’re late,” said my grandson as he got inside the car. I told him the whole story and he laughed uproariously at the awkward exchange of business cards.
“He probably thinks you’re a nun or something,” he grinned in delight.
“Maybe you can use this story for your next writing assignment in English. I bet you can make up a great rest-of-the-story. You can tell it from the guy’s point of view and title it, ‘How I Got Religion.’”
“Nah,” he said. “I’d rather call it, ‘How My Grandma Became a Porn Star.’”
Boys in Catholic high schools can be so irreverent!
Additional "fun" with the story...
First a disclaimer: this is my idea of "fun"--you may or may not agree. Working forever in church ministry can definitely tweak you. As my teenage daughter once remarked as I picked her up from school, "Mom, do you have to have a full size cross in the back of the car!" It was for an upcoming retreat and was really only 5 feet. Nonetheless, it was definitely not cool and, as she said, "kinda weird."
Jesuit formation includes a good deal of Theological Reflection as a part of unpacking the day just past. Despite its impressive title, it's really just a way of looking back at the day just past, picking out an incident and asking the questions "Where was God in this? What might God be revealing?"
Give it a try. Use this story and ask those questions. Some starting points:
Let me know what you think: Contact me
p.s. When I called that night, Nancy was doing well. My friend had arrived as they wheeled her back from her tests--in time to hear them say that her results were quite remarkable. He was profuse in his thanks for my prayers. I kept his card for a long time as a reminder to pray for both him and for Nancy.
It IS still summer! I am always reluctant to see summer go. Perhaps you opened this email because you feel the same way--not ready for back to school, falling leaves or, yikes!, Halloween.
Enjoy the remaining lazy, hazy, crazy days. I'll get back to you in September with what's up next--soon enough!
God bless,
Kathleen
