A dirty hillside beneath the towering eucalyptus. An old Episcopal chapel nestled in the grove of trees. We were greeted with smiles. The service was familiar from my distant past, and Mom knew it by heart.
Afterwards, the priest was friendly, interested to get Mom’s details, keen to follow up. We returned to her new home, where we were assured a car could take her to that church for the early service every week.
God is in his heaven, and he is smiling on his children, working his wonders even in the midst of challenges. Sing a hallelujah.
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