Coincidence. Chance. Accident. Serendipity. Luck. Miracle. A God-thing. We have so many ways of explaining away things that we may not quite understand. Maybe it is kismet, that is fate or destiny, or perhaps a higher power that controls what happens over time, in the future. You may hear about these moments in the lives of others but when they happen within the span of your life it may give you pause. My father had one of those moments in the span of his life, and most recently that serendipity moment occurred with me. Chance? Accident? A God-thing? You decide.
Story #1: My father was a miner in the coal mines of central Pennsylvania from age 12 until he was 17, when he was pulled from the mine and employed in the office of the mining company. He worked for the mining company while he completed high school and was given both encouragement and a scholarship to attend Albright College, in Reading, PA.
Throughout high school, he maintained a close friendship with a girl who was two years younger. Before leaving for college, my father purchased a beautiful, little necklace with the intention of giving it to his friend. But time, World War I and circumstance seemed to be against the gift being given, and, so, the necklace remained in its box, in the back of his dresser. She went on to nurses training, while he continued in college until he was drafted into the army shortly after the start of World War I.
The two friends drifted apart. She moved to Chicago where for 40 years she served as a surgical nurse at Cook County Hospital. She never married.
At the end of WWI, my father went to seminary and after graduation became a Congregational pastor, serving churches in Ohio and Indiana. He married a girl he met in college and over the years they had three children, my two sisters and I. The necklace remained in its box, forgotten, in the back of my father’s dresser.
My mother died in a flash flood in Colorado when I was 19. Months later, father received a sympathy card from that long-ago childhood friend who had heard of mother’s death. Over the coming year, the two communicated sporadically, and then things got serious and, eventually, they married. After the wedding ceremony, my father presented my now step-mother with that very necklace, still wrapped, nearly 44 years after he purchased it, as a 19-year-old. Kismet?
Story #2: The grieving woman walked into the little jewelry store to have a battery replaced on her watch. While she waited to have that done, she admired the cases of earrings, necklaces, and other pieces of jewelry. Some earrings caught her attention, and after a while she decided to make the purchase. It might help her cheer up, get beyond the grief she was feeling following the death of her husband, just several months before. He had died after an extended battle with cancer. She had been the caregiver, throughout. Her sadness had been over whelming, maybe these beautiful earrings would give her a boost. She paused, a moment, considered buying the matching necklace, but decided against it…maybe some other time.
Valentine’s Day, more than three years later. So much had changed. The death of his wife was four years ago, and the new love in his life, had changed him. He walked into the little jewelry store to have a battery replaced in his watch. While waiting, he looked over the display cases. Valentine’s Day. Hmm.
The restaurant was crowded, but the hostess lead the way to a small table, off to one side, in a corner, just the two of them. Just about perfect. The hand holding, the smiles, the toasting with glasses of wine, a kiss, then the card and the nicely wrapped little box. Yes, it was all just about perfect.
The wrappings aside, then the tears, as she sat there and staring at the necklace in the open box. Why, the tears, my love? You don’t know? No, he didn’t. How could he have known that the necklace was the match to the earrings, she had purchased amid her grief, so many years before. Kismet?
The End
