SOPHIA - Canadian Conference of Mennonite Brethren Churches

The Lord is Gracious
and We Get Home (Anyway)
by Nan McKenzie Kosowan
lin Lcouldn't just walk away! It has to be here some­
~ where." At five years of age, Kenny, my eldest
grandson, knew the signs of Nana losing something. He
also knew what usually came next. "Lord," he'd heard me
say so often, "You see everything. You know where that
thing is. Please show me."
More than once he initiated the call for the Lord's
help as he saw the search for a lost item prove futile. Allan,
his younger brother, reserved judgment on the sleuthing
ability of the Holy Spirit until a few adventures encouraged
him to expect.
One such (mis)adventure began on a beautiful,
sunny day that the grandchicks were spending with me.
We packed lunch and, leaving the car at home, set out for a
suburban park by bus. The big red bus was Kenny's latest
passion.
Little fellows of three and five aren't much help
when it comes to toting a bag lunch for
three, snacks for three, a picnic blanket,
a diaper bag ... and a purse. I managed to
get the baggage, the boys, myself ... and
the purse, off the Big Red all in one
piece. We found a lovely park site where
we could see a stream, birds, kids coming
home from school at noon and a
happily busy setter tracking a squirrel. Lunch downed, we
were off to see what might await us around the next little
hill. I loaded up snack bag, blanket and diaper bag and
struck out, firmly grasping a little hand on either side.
Several hills, a couple of float-the-twig-under-thebridge
races, a visit with the setter and a few weed
bouquets later, we decided the ride home on the Big Red
would be welcome. Nana fixed the boys still with her eye
as she shifted bags and blanket to fish the fare from her
purse. Her purse ... which wasn't there. Initial reaction to
hightail it back to the picnic site where Purse was last seen
soon gave way to reality at the sight of two dismal, tired little
faces. I couldn't lug two husky little boys back to the
picnic spot, nor leave them to retrace my steps.
We sat down and Nana asked for a bit of quiet to collect
her thOUghts. Purse was quite lost. I woefully
estimated the time it would take to walk home. Moving at
their weary pace for ten minutes, stopping to rest for five,
moving again for ten .. . would we make it by bedtime? By
car, home was fifteen minutes away! Hitchhiking was definitely
a last resort, but we were running out of options.
20 SOPHIA / WISDOM
[J held a little hand in each
of mine and spoke to the
One who knew our plight.
I held a little hand in each of mine, looked up
through the canopy of trees to the clear sky beyond and
spoke to the One who knew our plight and should have
been my first resource rather than my last resort.
"Lord, we can't see any good way home. We're not
sure what to do. We trust you to get us back, and I'm sorry
I was careless about my purse. Thank you for helping us
now."
We started out, singing little songs to encourage
expectation. Leaving the park, crossing the road, walking to
the bus stop, we passed a gate beyond which we could
hear voices and a couple of quietly whirring machines that
piqued our curiosity. The machines had moved on by the
time we got there but another couple came up behind us
and stopped. Golfers sat in the machines, staring at us. We
had wandered onto private golf club grounds.
"What are you doing here?" the first woman finally
said. "Do you realize you are in danger
of being struck by a flying golf ball?
You must get these children out of here
at once."
My grandchicks had never seen
Nana babble before, but finally, with
lame gestures, I got out the story of our
predicament. The golfer's face softened
and she said, "I'm a grandma too. You must get them home
after all this excitement. Here's ticket money. I hope your
purse gets back to you."
When their parents arrived at the house after work,
the boys poured out the story in stereo of "how God got us
home anyway when Nana lost her purse."
Purse came home the next day with a generous dog
walker who found the address, brought it to our door and
apologized (bless his heart) for not returning it as soon as
he found it. The boys listened with great interest to our
benefactor, who, to top it off, tipped his hat and left with a
"God bless you!" to which Kenny replied brightly. "He did!
He already did!"
. . . . . . . . . . .. . ............ .
Nan McKenzie Kosowan, of Kitchener, freelances for Christian
Week and the denominational publications of this country,
watching for stories of people who love the Lord and are
effectively using the gifiings God has blessed them with. Her
Hgrandchicks N are now young men attending 'Trent University
and Sheridan College.