In my work as a prison chaplain, I would often have an encounter with one of the men or one of the staff members that at first I described as a Holy Moment. God’s presence became obvious during our time together, so much so in fact, that I would say I had been “on holy ground” during my time with that person. I came to look on these encounters as “Divine Appointments”. I eventually found myself praying in the mornings that God would grant me a Divine Appointment in the day ahead.
Amazingly, Divine Appointments would often come at the least expected time with the least expected person. I might be in a hurry to get someplace, or stressed out with some issue I had to deal with, or feeling sick that day…and suddenly, I was on “holy ground”…not knowing how or why. In hindsight, many of those Divine Appointments became humorous because I was never ready…never expecting them.
This story is about a wonderful Divine Appointment that changed a man’s life. It was sent to me by one of the readers of An UpWord Glance…many thanks to her! May it be a blessing for you…
Fr Stephen powley
by Robert Peterson
She was six years old when I first met her on the beach near where I live. I drive to this beach, a distance of three or four miles, whenever the world begins to close in on me. She was building a sand castle or something and looked up, her eyes as blue as the sea.
‘Hello,’ she said.
I answered with a nod, not really in the mood to bother with a small child.
‘I’m building,’ she said.
‘I see that. What is it?’ I asked, not really caring.
‘Oh, I don’t know, I just like the feel of sand.’
That sounds good, I thought, and slipped off my shoes…A sandpiper glided by.
‘That’s a joy,’ the child said.
‘It’s a what?’
‘It’s a joy. My mama says sandpipers come to bring us joy.’
The bird went gliding down the beach. Good-bye joy, I muttered to myself, hello pain, and turned to walk on. I was depressed, my life seemed completely out of balance.
‘What’s your name?’ She wouldn’t give up.
‘Robert,’ I answered. ‘I’m Robert Peterson.’
‘Mine’s Wendy… I’m six.’
She giggled. ‘You’re funny,’ she said.
In spite of my gloom, I laughed too and walked on. Her musical giggle followed me.
‘Come again, Mr. P,’ she called. ‘We’ll have another happy day.’
The next few days consisted of a group of unruly Boy Scouts, PTA meetings,
and an ailing mother. The sun was shining one morning as I took my hands out
of the dishwater. I need a sandpiper, I said to myself, gathering up my coat.
The ever-changing balm of the seashore awaited me. The breeze was
chilly but I strode along, trying to recapture the serenity I needed.
‘Hello, Mr. P,’ she said. ‘Do you want to play?’
‘What did you have in mind?’ I asked, with a twinge of annoyance.
‘I don’t know. You say.’
‘How about charades?’ I asked sarcastically.
The tinkling laughter burst forth again. ‘I don’t know what that is.’
‘Then let’s just walk.’
Looking at her, I noticed the delicate fairness of her face.
‘Where do you live?’ I asked.
‘Over there.’ She pointed toward a row of summer cottages.
Strange, I thought, in winter.
‘Where do you go to school?’
‘I don’t go to school. Mommy says we’re on vacation.’
She chattered little girl talk as we strolled up the beach, but my mind was on other things. When I left for home, Wendy said it had been a happy day. Feeling surprisingly better, I smiled at her and agreed.
Three weeks later, I rushed to my beach in a state of near panic. I was in no mood to even greet Wendy. I thought I saw her mother on the porch and felt like demanding she keep her child at home.
‘Look, if you don’t mind,’ I said crossly when Wendy caught up with me, ‘I’d
rather be alone today.’ She seemed unusually pale and out of breath.
‘Why?’ she asked.
I turned to her and shouted, ‘Because my mother died!’ and thought, My God, why was I saying this to a little child?
‘Oh,’ she said quietly, ‘then this is a bad day.’
‘Yes,’ I said, ‘and yesterday and the day before and — oh, go away!’
‘Did it hurt?’ she inquired.
‘Did what hurt?’ I was exasperated with her, with myself.
‘When she died?’
‘Of course it hurt!’ I snapped, misunderstanding, wrapped up in myself. I strode off.
A month or so after that, when I next went to the beach, she wasn’t there.
Feeling guilty, ashamed, and admitting to myself I missed her, I went up
to the cottage after my walk and knocked at the door. A drawn looking
young woman with honey-colored hair opened the door.
‘Hello,’ I said, ‘I’m Robert Peterson.. I missed your little girl today and wondered where she was.’
‘Oh yes, Mr. Peterson, please come in. Wendy spoke of you so much.
I’m afraid I allowed her to bother you. If she was a nuisance,
please, accept my apologies.’
‘Not at all — she’s a delightful child.’ I said, suddenly realizing that I meant what I had just said.
‘Wendy died last week, Mr. Peterson. She had leukemia.
Maybe she didn’t tell you.’
Struck dumb, I groped for a chair. I had to catch my breath.
‘She loved this beach, so when she asked to come, we couldn’t say no.
She seemed so much better here and had a lot of what she called happy days.
But the last few weeks, she declined rapidly…’ Her voice faltered, ‘She left
something for you, if only I can find it. Could you wait a moment while I look?’
I nodded stupidly, my mind racing for something to say to this lovely young
woman. She handed me a smeared envelope with ‘MR. P’ printed in bold
childish letters. Inside was a drawing in bright crayon hues — a yellow beach,
a blue sea, and a brown bird. Underneath was carefully printed:
A SANDPIPER TO BRING YOU JOY
Tears welled up in my eyes, and a heart that had almost forgotten to love
opened wide. I took Wendy’s mother in my arms. ‘I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry,
I’m so sorry,’ I uttered over and over, and we wept together. The precious little
picture is framed now and hangs in my study. Six words — one for each year
of her life — that speak to me of harmony, courage, and undemanding love.
A gift from a child with sea blue eyes and hair the color of sand
– who taught me the gift of love.
NOTE: This is a true story sent out by Robert Peterson. It happened over 20
years ago and the incident changed his life forever. It serves as a reminder
to all of us that we need to take time to enjoy living and life and each other.
May God grant you a Divine Appointment today!!
Please remember those who are imprisoned. Visit Orthodox Christian Prison Ministries and lend them your support during this season of repentance. And if you ever get a chance to hear Fr. Stephen Powley speak – do it!