A good wife is the crown of her husband…
I shared [last week’s post] because it set the stage for the next few weeks. I was staying at St. Ignatius rectory with Fr. Dan Ring and Fr. Frank Murd and trying to keep busy recreating a “local” diocesan newspaper. Fr. Bernie Boff, head of missions, saw the column and offered us use of St. Theresa Convent on Dorr Street – one of the darkest areas of Toledo.
Mom came out to see the convent – it wasn’t too bad during the day – and we, of course, went sightseeing. As we were heading out of Toledo on Miami Street, we turned into a For Sale by Owner driveway … an old Victorian. Mom said, “Now that’s a house I would like to see.”
I stopped the car, but no one was there. End of story. We committed to the convent and made plans to just be together.
But it wasn’t the end of the story. After Mom left for Illinois, I tried to get in touch with the owners of that home on Miami Street. After about a week of phone tag, I finally made contact. I made arrangements for Mom to come out again and look at the house … and she fell in love with it. There wasn’t one thing about that house she did not like. It was her “dream” home. So we made an offer, hoping against hope we could get approved and be able to buy this place. In the meantime, we were finalizing plans to get into Dorr Street.
We finally packed everyone up as school ended.
The convent, as you probably recall [remember this originally was written for my children], was interesting to say the least. The first night there was constantly punctuated by police sirens. There were gunshots. Then a strange little man appeared out of nowhere wearing nothing but a trench coat. Somebody forgot to tell us we weren’t staying there alone!!!
We did get approved for the house and we never closed and moved so fast. In fact, we closed before our furniture arrived at Dorr Street! The owners were anxious to get into their new home. We were glad to vacate the convent quickly — I think it was just a couple of weeks — and get into our new “home.” We even roughed it on the floor for a couple of nights as we awaited the moving van.
The amazing thing is how quickly this all transpired. Within six months of that column we were out of Illinois (although we did have two mortgages because the house hadn’t sold), found temporary housing, found a house that fit our family and our budget, closed, moved and settled in. That wasn’t dumb luck. Both Mom and I knew it was Divine guidance. All it took, we both believed with all our hearts, was letting go and letting God take over.
To be continued …
THOUGHT TO REMEMBER: Who you’re on the mountain with is more important than getting to the top.