What a powerful witness of angels in our lives from Catherine Keddington Arveseth.
I put the last of my grocery cart items on the conveyor belt and nudged my cart forward. As the cashier scanned my stack of necessities, I watched the bagger swiftly fill bags and then my cart, and out of the corner of my eye, I could see another shopper had joined the line. She began unloading her cart, and without thinking, I turned for a better look. I recognized the woman immediately as a friend of my mother’s.
I didn’t know her well. Growing up in a predominantly Mormon neighborhood, there were just a handful of families that were not LDS. Hers was one of them. But my mother had a way of making those families some of her closest friends. I remembered how much my mom cared about this woman. I remembered going with my mom once or twice to take dinner to her when she was not well. I remembered my mom reminding us to be kind to her children.
Should I say hello? The thought dangled in my mind.
She’ll never remember me. Or recognize me . . . It’s been over 20 years since we’ve seen each other.
The cashier announced the total of my purchase, so I inserted my card for payment and tried to dismiss the idea.
But the idea didn’t leave.
Maybe I should say something.
And then I felt it. A touch on my shoulder. My right shoulder. As if my mother were standing next to me, her hand gently brushing against my clothing.
Then I heard her voice. There was no mistaking it.
“You need to say hello to her,” she said. “You need to tell her that I love her.”