When my husband, Alain, and I met in February 2004, there was never any question that we would get married. We did—on October 7, 2005. The big question for us was, “How could we have not met sooner?” Our lives didn’t just have one coincidence, but many—any of which should have brought us together much earlier.

• He and my brother hung out with the same friends, one of whom was a groomsman at our wedding.

• He and I used to go to the same bar, but we never even bumped into each other.

• I've known one of his sisters since I was in Grade 9 and then met his other two sisters at university—and yet I never knew any of them had a brother (three, in fact).

• He worked with two of my sister-in-law's sisters.

There are more, but you get the idea. We truly believe that it was all God's plan that we not meet until we did because prior to my husband's conversion to a deeper faith, I seriously doubt I would have given him a second look since until then he was pretty much the epitome of what I didn’t want in a guy! :-)

Oh, and then after we met, we would often show up for youth group meetings—we were both leaders—dressed in matching outfits. The kids have never let us live that down.

Anna de la Cruz, Scarborough, Ont.

Hands to Hold You
My two sisters and I were born and raised in a small outport in Newfoundland, daughters of an Anglican minister. When my older sister, Pauline, was born in 1944, my mother was attended by only Mrs. Spicer, a mid-wife.

Pauline, who left Newfoundland in her early 30s, became a teacher and a world traveller. In her mid-40s, she spent three years teaching at a theological college in the Soloman Islands. On her return to Canada in 1989, the Anglican Church sent her on a speaking tour of selected churches across the country to talk about her experience. Introducing herself to the various congregations, she included a short explanation of her origins in a small Newfoundland outport.

After one service in a large Vancouver church, Pauline was approached by an elderly woman who was clearly in a very emotional state. She grasped my sister’s hands and held them tightly in her own for several minutes without speaking. Just as Pauline was becoming a little uncomfortable with the situation, the woman, with tears in her eyes, said, “Pauline, these hands were the first hands that held you when you came into the world.”

It was Mrs. Spicer! She and her husband had left Newfoundland the year after my sister was born and had moved to Vancouver.

Liz Batstone, Halifax

Livin’ in the city
In 1974, my mother, my sister and I immigrated to Toronto to join my father, who had moved there two years earlier. While doing “paperwork” at the Canadian embassy in Lisbon, Portugal, we met an older lady who was completing the papers for her two grandsons, who would be joining their parents in Toronto. At the airport on the day of our flight out of Lisbon, who did we see but the elderly lady from the embassy. Her daughter had come from Toronto, and was flying back with her sons on the same flight as us.

The elderly lady asked her daughter to “look after us” as it was our first time flying and we didn’t speak any English. Upon our arrival in Toronto, my mother thanked the woman for her help and said maybe they would see each other again, and my mom would be able to pay her back for her kindness. The lady told my mother Toronto was a big city and it was unlikely they’d even meet again. We then all went our separate ways.

My mother started work a short while later, and one day a co-worker invited my mom to her house for a get-together. To my mother's surprise, her co-worker’s tenant turned out to be the lady who had helped us on the plane.

Not such a big city after all.

Angie Pedro, Toronto

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