My Take
DiVoran Lite

Photo by Melodie Hendrix
Our son and daughter-in-law are empty nesters, so we all make an effort to get together with the grandchildren several times a year. Since our granddaughter and her young man are theater majors, a show is our favorite place to go. We have supper before or after of course.
Yesterday we parked four cars in the lot at the Bob Carr Auditorium in Orlando because we were heading out in different directions afterwards. We walked the mile to Church Street for supper in a bitterly cold wind. We knew it was going to be cold, but none of us believed it could ever be that cold. That’s the way we are in Florida, cold takes us by surprise. No one was truly dressed for it.
After supper at the restaurant, we decided to take the free bus back to the theater so we walked to a bus stop. We discussed other unsatisfactory options as we waited because it was just so cold. Our grandson and his young lady, our granddaughter and her young man huddled, and our son and his wife huddled with us. We asked the “kids” to come closer and they shuffled en masse without letting go of each other. We then had an eight-person huddle. A woman about my age came up shivering and we invited her in, so now we had four pair and a spare. She said she wasn’t a Snow Bird, she was from Seattle, so she was a Rain Bird. She said it sometimes seems colder in Florida than anywhere else.
The empty bus arrived and we all got on. At the next stop, a man who appeared to be homeless came on and stood up front near the driver. We thought we were supposed to get off there so we rose, but: “Next stop says the driver,” and we all sat down again. The homeless man turned to our son, the leader of the pack, and asked, “Are all of these yours?” Our son nodded. “You’re blessed,” said the man.
We all felt warm and close now, and glad that a stranger had recognized our bond. Say, maybe he wasn’t a homeless guy after all, maybe the lady traveling alone wasn’t a real “Rain Bird,” either. Perhaps they were both angels sent to remind us that our lives, “might have been,” as Jane Kenyon’s poem says, “Otherwise.” They could have been, you know.
Hebrews 13:2
Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for thereby some have entertained angels unawares. (ESV)v
Tags: Angels, Christianity, Family Life, Florida, Homelessness, Jane Kenyon, Seattle, Theatre