Our first week in California in the late 80’s, someone at church invited me to come to a baby shower she was throwing for another member because, as she told me later, she figured that was a good way for me to get to meet people faster.

Hah! I was prepared: the Toys R Us in New Hampshire had had a clearance baby outfit for all of twenty-five cents, just get it out of our store. Nobody had wanted to buy light cotton baby clothes during a New Hampshire winter. I even knew where the moving box was.

I asked Karen, the expectant mom, if this was her first?

The room erupted in laughter and kidding. And no she did not finally get her girl but a baby boy to go with his six older brothers and my outfit was light blue. Perfect.

Her oldest was in high school. A really nice kid.

Soon I was asked to be the Compassionate Service leader. Sure. I’d never done that before and wasn’t sure what all was expected but the woman who’d asked me…didn’t quite know what to do with me either and so she did nothing. No phone calls, no guidance. No meetings. No inclusion nor decision-making. It may even be that she’d entirely forgotten she’d asked me; I didn’t know how at that age to ask a much older woman a question that could put her on the spot. We’re all volunteers here anyway.

Well then, I’ll just make it up on the fly all by myself, I eventually decided.

Our house came with multiple rose bushes.

I delivered a number of roses to a number of women who’d looked like they could use it but there were more flowers and a feeling like I wasn’t done yet.

Hmm.

I figured, every teenager needs to know that an adult who doesn’t have to cares about them just because they are, and ended up calling Karen and her oldest and explaining what I was hoping to do.

He was all for it and his mom thought it was a great idea.

So I went and picked Robert up and then he guided me to the homes of the teenagers in the ward that he thought could use a rose and a hello to cheer them up. I would drive and he would run a flower to the door and say the ward wanted you to have a nice day. Anybody who’s struggling with their classes, or life, I told him, or anything. You know them; I don’t yet. So you tell me where.

Mostly, I noticed, we ended up at the homes of the girls, and he had me as an excuse in overcoming any teenage shyness.

One particular girl… I never mentioned to him that sitting in my car as she opened that door I saw just how much it meant to him to be able to do this unexpected nice thing for her.

Her older brother flew into town this weekend. He is the only person I knew when I was diagnosed with Crohn’s who had Crohn’s. From childhood. A survivor who showed the way, and kept in touch with me via FB, and there he was! Seeking the two of us out and making sure we didn’t miss seeing each other.

Because his old buddy he’d grown up with had finally done what his mom had long thought was just never going to happen at this point.

Robert and his bride look gloriously happy in all the pictures and their loved ones in church today all were, too.

She was worth the wait, and so was he.