A Professional
A woman was getting a pie ready to put into the oven
when the phone rang. It was the school nurse: Her son
had come down with a high fever and would she come and
take him home?
The mother calculated how long it would take to drive
to school and back, and how long the pie should bake,
and concluded there was enough time. Popping the pie in
the oven, she left for school.
When she arrived, her son's fever was worse and the
nurse urged her to take him to the doctor. Seeing her
son like that -- his face flushed, his body trembling
and dripping with perspiration -- frayed her, and she
drove to the clinic as fast as she dared.
She was frayed a bit more waiting for the doctor to
emerge from the examining room, which he was doing now,
walking toward her with a slip of paper in his hand.
"Get him to bed," he told her, handing her the
prescription, "and start him on this right away."
By the time she got the boy home and in bed and
headed out again for the shopping mall, she was not only
frayed, but frazzled and frantic as well. And she had
forgotten about the pie in the oven.
At the mall she found a pharmacy, got the
prescription filled and rushed back to the car . . . . .
. Which was locked. Yes, there were her keys, hanging in
the ignition switch, locked inside the car.
She ran back into the mall, found a phone and called
home. When her son finally answered, she blurted out,
"I've locked the keys inside the car!" The boy was
barely able to speak. In a hoarse voice he whispered,
"Get a wire coat hanger, Mom. You can get in with that."
The phone went dead. She began searching the mall for
a wire coat hanger -- which turned out not to be easy.
Wooden hangers and plastic hangers were there in
abundance, but shops didn't use wire hangers anymore.
After combing through a dozen stores, she found one that
was behind the times just enough to use wire hangers.
Hurrying out of the mall, she allowed herself a smile
of relief. As she was about to step off the curb, she
halted. She stared at the wire coat hanger. "I don't
know what to do with this!"
Then she remembered the pie in the oven. All the
frustrations of the past hour collapsed on her and she
began crying. Then she prayed, "Dear Lord, my boy is
sick and he needs this medicine and my pie is in the
oven and the keys are locked in the car and, Lord, I
don't know what to do with this coat hanger. Dear Lord,
send somebody who does know what do with it, and I
really need that person NOW, Lord. Amen."
She was wiping her eyes when a beat-up older car
pulled up to the curb and stopped in front of her. A
young man, twentyish-looking, in a T-shirt and ragged
jeans, got out. The first thing she noticed about him
was the long, stringy hair, and then the beard that hid
everything south of his nose. He was coming her way.
When he drew near she stepped in front of him and
held out the wire coat hanger. "Young man," she said,
"do you know how to get into a locked car with one of
these?"
He gaped at her for a moment, then plucked the hanger
from her hand. "Where's the car?"
Telling the story, she said she had never seen
anything like it -- it was simply amazing how easily he
got into her car. A quick look at the door and window, a
couple of twists of the coat hanger and bam! Just like
that, the door was open.
When she saw the door open she threw her arms around
him. "Oh," she said, "the Lord sent you! You're such a
good boy. You must be a Christian."
He stepped back and said, "No ma'am, I'm not a
Christian, and I'm not a good boy. I just got out of
prison yesterday."
She jumped at him and she hugged him again -
fiercely. "Bless God!" she cried. "He sent me a
professional!"
