The office called on Friday afternoon with an urgent plea for coverage on the weekend. The caregiver had worked full-time for months without a break and her husband wanted her to take off for the Memorial Day Weekend. The part-time and prn employees were already assigned for the holiday, leaving a need to cover the 12-hour shift on Saturday and on Sunday. I sighed. Deeply. Struggling to find a reason why I could not accept, while silently acknowledging no legitimate excuse, I sighed again in resignation as I heard myself agree to take the weekend shift. I drove home that evening mulling over the pertinent information provided. My regular job ended at 7:30 and then I had volunteer work to complete. It was 11 pm when I finished, leaving me apprehensive about the 5 am alarm that would soon blare, to get ready in the morning.

I arrived on time and we spent the first hour covering necessary care information. His wife was frail and weak but continuing to function as much as possible with the known terminal diagnosis. Her husband of 60+ years remained by her side, overseeing her medications and encouraging her to eat. Apparently their words and responses had been voiced numerous times and yielded the same results. I lifted her from the recliner onto her rollator and seated her at the kitchen table where they shared meals and discussed the news. He ensured that her medications were taken correctly while I cleared the dishes and cleaned the kitchen.

Assistance was required for the bathroom before returning to the den to rest in the recliner. We were both amazed that I was able to lift her up and down for every transfer as needed throughout the day, and I silently thanked God for the strength. She was petite and small in stature, and the effort was not overwhelming. She expressed gratitude for my ability to lift her in her weakened state. Once, she looked up at me and said, “You are an angel”! Smiling in response, I shook my head in denial and explained that God was helping me take care of her for the weekend.

She remained at the kitchen table after lunch for a while, gazing outside through the glass patio door. I remarked on the trees and the yard, and she spoke of her husband’s efforts to maintain the grass and landscaping. She noticed something yellow in the flower box that was built above the ground, but was unable to discern the type of flower. The bright green leaves obscured the blooms. Picking up my phone, I stepped outside to take a few pictures. I crossed the patio and walked around the raised brick flowerbed, happily surprised to see five beautiful yellow calla lilies in bloom. As I showed her the pics, she explained that one of their sons had given her the flowers a few years ago. She was delighted to see the lilies were thriving.

I slept well that night and woke up the next morning feeling rested and better prepared. Sunday progressed according to the same pattern. We shared details from our personal lives, and I enjoyed listening to the stories about their families and life experiences. Though the hours were long, the weekend had not been difficult to cover, and they were kind in their remarks to me as I prepared to leave at the end of the shift on Sunday.

The trip home that evening would take at least an hour, and I decided to stop and eat on the way. Fatigue was settling in as I pulled into a local Wendy’s. Thankfully the dining area was quiet and not busy. I chose a seat by the front windows and sank into my chair. There were only two other customers inside; an older couple and a single young man who had chosen a stool at the wifi counter. He was busy on his phone as I turned back to my food.

Looking out the glass windows, I noticed a young mother outside with her toddler. The daughter was picking up small pieces of mulch in the landscaping and handing them to her mother, who graciously accepted and then placed them back onto the ground. This continued for a few minutes while the mother sat on the curb around the landscaped area. She did not have the appearance of homelessness, but I wondered if she or her daughter might be hungry. I watched them for a couple of minutes before deciding to walk outside.

I spoke to the mother and asked if they were hungry or needed anything. The young woman smiled brightly and explained that they were waiting on her husband inside to get off work. Her little girl was getting restless so she brought her outside while waiting. She smiled again and thanked me for offering.

Upon returning to my seat, I noticed a bright new penny was gleaming on the dark metal window sill next to the table. I looked around and then sat down, suddenly refreshed without a trace of fatigue. I studied the penny to check the year, stamped 2017, and the young man left quietly. I barely noticed his departure in my stunned state of mind. The penny was not on the window sill before I went outside.

I finished my meal in peace and drove home safely, grateful for God’s guidance and blessings throughout the weekend, grateful for His presence and the blooms that brightened the wife’s face, in awe of His kindness and tenderness.