A friend offered a box of safety pins on social media, and I asked for them to use in the costume room. They come in handy before a show, trying to hold things together. 

 

"Sure. They will be on my front porch." 

 

I forgot to go that day, since we had the absolute pleasure of our granddaughter coming to visit. The next morning I showed up at what I thought was the right driveway and scouted around. There were several possible doors, but no pins. 

 

"Can I help you?" a woman called through the window. 

 

I explained my presence and she informed me that the person I was looking for had moved. I was surprised by my own ignorance. She could not tell me the address, only the road, which was very close. I pulled out of the driveway and paused while a red sports car went by. I was pretty sure it was the pin woman's daughter, at least as sure as I could be of a face I haven't seen in many months whizzing by at thirty miles an hour. She turned on to the right street, and I followed. Not so close as to stalk, but near enough not to lose her. She parked on the side of the road, and got out. I did too. The driver welcomed me to the array of things waiting to be picked up and handed me the pins. I thanked her.

 

What are the odds? Five seconds sooner, I wouldn't have seen her. Five seconds later, I would have been wandering the roads looking for sharp objects. The girl in the red sports car appeared at the perfect moment to lead me. 

 

Being with our granddaughter is deeply satisfying. She is at an age where following is as easy as breathing. Going on a walk? Great. Picking flowers? Yes, please. I stretched the boundaries of my grandmotherly indulgences, and offered Olly her first taste of whipped cream. We were, after all, having warm crisp made from apples Benjamin picked last week. From the smile on her face I could tell that Olly liked it. Which is my goal. 

 

There have been times when God has sent messengers at the precise moment I needed guidance. Reassurance from a trusted friend, the lyrics of a song, the music of birds after a storm. My own ignorance does not seem to be an impediment to the string of miracles. It seems to hold things together that otherwise might fall apart. 

 

Plus it seems to be God's goal to make us happy.