This morning, the Number 54 rolled by me as I missed the bus stop by inches outside my ob clinic. What bus driver would fail to stop for a super, pregnant lady who is running and waving her arms frantically?
God makes the bus stop at a red light half a block away. I kept running, as fast as my giant belly can go. "There is still no way I'm going to catch this bus," I thought.
Just then two Morman boys, in their neat ties and telltale black backpacks, step off at the cross walk in front of the bus. "Are you trying to get on this bus?" they call.
"Yes!" I answer.
The tallest Morman started beating on the bus door until the bus driver opens the door "There's a lady here who needs to get on!"
"God Bless you!" I called out, as I swung my tired body onto the bus.
At the mention of God, the Morman looked totally shocked. (I don't know what aspect of our whole exchange shocked him.) Once I made it on the bus, I prayed hard for Our Lady to bless those two kind men today. I love praying for Mormans. Our Lady seems to throw a lot of them my way.
