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3/3 - THE HANDS OF GOD

. Posted in 2013 Lenten Readings

It was a warm, sunny, peaceful Saturday. I went to the cemetery to water the flowers, and to take a walk. As I was filling my watering can for the last of the flowers I had planted weeks earlier, an elderly woman walked toward me. She asked if I worked at the cemetery. I told her that I didn’t, I just had family members buried there. She started to tell me that she needed help. She was looking for the grave of her brother, and there was no one in the office building just outside of the cemetery entrance. I told her that I was almost finished with my watering, and then I would be happy to help her.

I often walk around the perimeter road of the cemetery as part of my exercise regimen. The road is two thirds of a mile long. The walk is peaceful, and a good workout because there is no traffic. On a day like it was this day, the sun lit the top of the leaves that formed a canopy over part of the road. That added a touch of beauty.

One of the God given gifts I was born with is an excellent memory. Most things I see, read, or hear take root in my memory to be recalled whenever I might find a need for it. The woman gave me the names that would be on the gravestone she was searching for. I knew that I had seen the last name on one of my walks, and that it was not far from where I had first seen her. I quickly found the stone, and showed the woman where it was. She was very grateful for my help, and told me a bit about her family. Her only brother, a veteran of World War II, had died last year at the age of 91, joining his wife, who had died a short time earlier. The woman I met had also lost her husband. Neither she, nor her brother had any children. Her closest family member was a niece who lived out of state.

She thanked me again, and I left to start my walk. As I walked around the perimeter road, I came around to the place I had been just a few minutes ago. I saw the woman again, trying to plant a flower at the gravesite. I walked up and asked if she would like me to help her with the flower. I dug a small hole, and planted the flower, and gave it some water. She told me again about her brother and his wife. She wanted to tell someone about him. I think she missed him quite a bit. She told me she wished she could repay me for my help. I told her that it was not necessary, and I was happy to help her. I asked her to pray for me, and that would be payment enough. As I walked away, I felt as though, at least for a brief time, I was a tool, used by God, to do a small job, to help one of His children. I felt grateful to be in the right place, at the right time to be the hands of God.

Submitted by Dave Carlson