Our daughter Mercy went into Philly to visit her sister Hosanna on the same night that our other daughter Chara came to visit us from the same city. As I drove Chara to catch a train to work, I wondered if Mercy would be texting me to pick her up. 

Nothing. 

After chicken chores I saw two missed calls and two missed texts from her. 

"Can you pick me up from Jenkintown? Train doesn't go all the way to Bethayres. Phone about to die." I texted back that I was on my way. 

Then Chara called to say Mercy had called when she didn't reach me and was actually arriving at Bethayers. Which way to go? I tried calling and went straight to voicemail. 

I hopped in the car and scooted to Jenkintown, worried that I had kept her waiting and that she would start walking. I darted my eyes on the sidewalks as I wandered through the back streets. When I arrived at the station I called around, aware of the possible effect of a loud voice calling "MERCY!" from a trolling car. 

I headed back to the closer station, anxious that I had kept her waiting a very long time by now, and found no sign of her there either. I went home, and found her two blocks from my door. Just then her text arrived. 

"Dont"

It was all she could eek out of the phone before it expired. She apologized for the confusion, since the train did in fact go all the way. I was simply happy to see her. 

There are ample opportunities in marriage for missed communication. I am as guilty as the next person of forgetting to mention that we are invited to a party, or hosting two girls from Japan, as we are this week. John is lenient about such lapses in information that directly affect him. I am not always so generous. Wandering around town for forty minutes was a vivid reminder that it helps when I keep John in the loop.