It was my day off, and I was on my way to visit Mom. It had been a while, and I was looking forward to seeing her. Driving the familiar highway, I passed a turnoff and thought, That’s the road to Anna Jean’s.
Mom and Anna Jean had been friends for as long as I could remember. They had a lot in common. Both married farmers and went to the same church. Both had six children—six daughters for Mom, six sons for Anna Jean. I remembered that Mom had mentioned that Anna Jean was going through a tough time. Her husband, Ralph, had recently died. They’d been married for 36 years.
Bring her flowers.
I didn’t know where the thought came from, but as I sped down the highway, I was overcome with the feeling that I should obey it. I shared the idea with Mom as soon as I got to her house. “It feels like the right thing to do,” I said.
“You’re right,” Mom said. “I wish I’d thought of it myself.”
Mom and I went to a florist and picked out the prettiest flowers and ribbons. We left with the most cheerful bouquet. “This is a great way to cheer Anna Jean up,” I said as we got in the car.
“And she’ll know we care about her,” said Mom.
I carried the flowers to the door, and Mom rang the bell. “Surprise!” she said when her old friend answered. “We brought you flowers!”
Anna Jean looked at us and the bouquet. Then she started to cry. “What’s wrong?” Mom said, glancing at me in alarm.
“How did you know?” Anna Jean asked through her tears.
“Know what?”
“Today’s my wedding anniversary,” she said. “The first one since Ralph died. For 36 years, he always did something for me on this day to make me feel loved. I was prepared to go without this year. But here you are with this beautiful bouquet….”
