Last week I was planning on visiting the independent/assisted living facility where I worked at for five years and had to leave three years ago because of health issues. I figured I would offer to volunteer some of my time to help the elderly there with whatever it was they needed however other things came up so my plans were never completed.
Now prior to my mom being placed under hospice care I had signed up for a retreat for the weekend of 9/13 to 9/16 in a place I had never been to. All I knew about the place is that it was run by friars and that I had used their spiritual cards in the past. Graymoor is about a 31/2 hr. drive from Boston and I had gotten used to taking long trips to visit a dear friend over the past year. Once mom's health started to decline I figured I would never be able to go to the retreat never anticipating that she would go so soon.
I started out early on the afternoon of Friday the 13th, allowing myself plenty of time to be there by the 6pm check-in time. The number 13 is often thought of by some to be an unlucky number. For me it has been the opposite. I took solace in that, September 13, was the feast day of St. John Chrysostom, a place where I called my home of worship when my sons were much younger. Now that I think of it all three received the sacraments of Baptism, Holy Communion and Confirmation at that church.
One might say that early on in the trip I had the misfortune of blowing out my second GPS in a year. I have gotten so used to these devices that I almost feel that I can't travel without them. As I started to get upset and worried I stopped and told God that if He wanted me to get to the destination in NY, He would have to guide me there.
I arrived in this beautiful mountainous area 30 minutes early. I sat in my car checking my e-mails. I was surprised to see an e-mail from a woman I hadn't heard of in about two years with the subject being 'Temporary Work.'
I surprisingly read the following;
"Hi Lino,
I hope this finds you and your family healthy and feeling well. I am writing to see if you might be interested in a few months of temporary work. Our driver is having some surgery at the beginning of November and we expect him to be out of commission until January. He currently drives three days/week, but we will be flexible with regard to schedule. If you are not interested or able, that is fine. I just thought I would ask, as it would be a thrill for some of our residents to see you again! And it would certainly help. Let me know your thoughts. Thanks and be well."
I sat in my car with a wave of emotions and I had to read it again to make sure that the long drive hadn't played tricks on my mind. I could see God peeking out from behind the tree in front of me winking and smiling. The retreat had yet to start and I already felt so blessed and thanked Him. It was almost as if He was saying to me, "OK, wise guy, you asked for it? Well here it is. What are you going to do?"
Here I was earlier in the week making plans to go there and never made it and now He brings the place to me. Wow! How could I say no?
Her message was sent at 5:10pm. I responded at 5:42pm saying that I would get back to her on Monday.
As I glanced into the rear view mirror I noticed three women carrying their luggage enter the front door. I was puzzled. Wasn't this a men's retreat? Maybe they are people who are helping out I thought. When I entered I found that those women were checking in for the retreat I was going to. We were all assigned rooms on the sixth floor and given a schedule for the next three days.
I checked in, unpacked and headed for the lounge where there was a buffet prior to that evening's workshop. The place was packed and as I was getting some food one of the ladies that checked in ahead of me said that they had a seat at their table. I soon found out that there were three different retreats going on that weekend.
I had a name tag on like everyone else but my name causes people to look in a strange way and to make matters worse I didn't do a good job of writing the 'o' at the end of my name - to some it looked liked a 'd' so a few called me Lind. Most of the people seemed to be from the New York area except for the man next to me who was from Philadelphia. Once he saw my name he said, "Hey you're in room 613." He was pointing out that 6/13 is synonymous with St. Anthony. I had not made the connection until he reminded me that 613, or June 13, is the feast day of St. Anthony of Padua. Of course I knew that as I'm fairly active at St. Anthony's Shrine in Boston.
There's the number 13 again and I felt even more blessed. Room 613 on 9/13/13.
The next day, during the sharing phase of one of the group exercises, I found that there were at least three other people who like me had recently lost their mom. They all felt like they were directed to this place. Saturday evening and Sunday morning for some was very emotional and there was a such a feeling of compassion in our room. I even had a young lady from the Appalachian mountain group bring me a pair of ear plugs as I had a difficult time sleeping because room 613 was opposite the men's lavatories and showers. We met on Saturday morning as we were a handful of people who got up to see the sunrise from the mountain top.
This morning, as promised, I did e-mail the Executive Director who offered the temporary job and said that I would be glad to help them out. I asked that I have Wednesdays free as I have a volunteer commitment on that day each week. How could I say no to God?
She responded;
I am jumping up and down I am so excited!
Thank YOU for being willing to help out!
Wednesday is not a problem.
Thank you, thank you, thank you!
I was the one that was saying "Thank You" all week-end long.
Coincidence - No. Answered prayer - Yes.
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