"What are the Odds?"

odds: n. The ratio of the probability of an event happening to that of it not happening.

For those who gamble, knowing the odds factors into the decision made as to how much money to bet or whether or not to even make a bet. How much is the gambler willing to lose? Being aware of the odds gives a mathematical assessment as to the possibility of winning. For example, if the odds are 9/1 that means there is a 10% chance of winning; 1/4 means there is an 80% chance of winning. The greater the odds, the slimmer the chance of coming out ahead. If the odds are 100/1 there is less than a 1% hope of being a winner; 1000/1 makes it less than 1/10 of 1%--not very good odds to say the least.

My beloved sewing machine stopped working this morning--right in the middle of a seam. I have had her for over forty years, and it is the first time she has failed me. I have logged an enormous number of hours on my Swiss Bernina, and I do love to sew--and I love my sewing machine--so I found a shop that could check it out for me.

I thought I knew where the store was located but discovered I was mistaken. I was on a time frame--I needed to meet a client at a local nursery at 1, and I wanted to mow a lawn before that. The detour to the correct location had taken 10 minutes or so, but I thought I should have just enough time to make it. After leaving the sewing machine with the repair people, I hurried off.

Arriving at the mowing job, I parked the truck and was checking messages on my phone before unloading the mower. That was when I saw her out of the corner of my eye.  

She was a woman, probably in her eighties, moving very slowly as she walked down the sidewalk. Her left foot was heavy as she pushed her walker, the kind with a seat. In days gone by she would have been called a "bag lady,' one who carries their possessions around with them. It appeared she was not a person of means, but one who struggles to survive.

I recognize that woman, I thought. Am I going to get out and acknowledge her or not? I decided I wasn't going to--as I opened up my truck door and headed across the grass toward her. Deep inside I knew I could not forgive myself if I didn't speak to her. 

By this time she had traversed a ways on down the sidewalk. "Hello," I said, as I placed myself in her line of vision so she could see me. "Do you remember me?" I asked. Her face exploded in a huge, bright smile, exposing the empty spaces where front teeth were missing along with a single snag of a tooth. "Yes. You're the gardener." 

"How are you?" I asked. "I'm OK," she responded in a tone of resignation, one who is hanging on by a thread. We chatted for a while before she lumbered off, ever so slowly.
"Thank you," she said, an acknowledgement of appreciation that I had spoken to her.

The first time I saw her was several years back at a law office where I maintain the landscape. She stopped as I was working, commending the job I was doing and expressing her opinion about the local city council--"Someone good needs to run for that office." She wanted a person who would listen to the people.

The next time was at least three or four years ago at the same location. She approached me, asking if I knew where a specific address was located and directions to get there. It was quite a few blocks away, too far for her to walk, I felt. I offered to put her walker in the back of my truck and take her. "No. You don't have to do that." I assured her it wasn't a big deal, and yes, I did need to drive her there. 

She talked the entire way, speaking of her faith and her belief in God. 

What are the odds that I would see her again today? She is more frail. Life has not become any easier for her. And yet she still has a smile that lights up the world, toothless smile though it is. 

This is my point--What are the odds of seeing this firefly of a lady after the passing of several years?--not only the second time but this third time as well. I could have been mowing the back yard as she walked by. There was a very narrow range of time as she walked down the sidewalk where I could see her as I sat in my truck--just a couple of minutes. My detour to the sewing repair shop altered my arrival by 10 minutes or so. Traffic, the speed of traffic--there are so many variables. And yet there she was, walking right by me as I prepared to go mow a lawn.

What are the odds? Infinitesimal at the very best. 

But odds do not apply. This is the design of God as He coordinates daily life, giving it the same level of importance as He did when He planned creation, making certain planets to not crash into one another and the ocean's tides ebb and flow. Only He can set up and implement sets of circumstances such as these.

My one regret is that I did not ask her name or where she lived. It is my hope and prayer that the odds will once again be defied as God orders things, and our paths will once again cross.