As near as I can figure, I must have undiagnosed memory loss. Other than the events which have left literal scars, such as childhood experiments involving high voltage and/or blow torches, I quickly forget most of the lessons I've ever learned. Case in point: A recent encounter with a homeless lady at a busy street corner. Call me callous, being a Republican and all, but I've never had much sympathy for the typical person holding the sob-inducing cardboard sign at a traffic light or freeway ramp. Maybe it is different in your neck of the woods, but it seems most of these panhandlers are well-fed scam artists. I've even seen "shift changes" at some of the busier intersections, with the pitiful bandana-wearing dog being handed off to the next guy just coming on duty.

Something about this lady struck me as different, however. Eyes down, she seemed genuinely ashamed to be there. Her small sign simply stated that she had lost her job and that she and her children were about to lose their apartment because they couldn't pay the rent. As she was at the opposite corner of a busy intersection, and I was running late to beat the kids home from school, I had to get going without doing anything to help. On my way home, I began another of my frequent questioning sessions with God. "Where," I asked, "Was her family?" That was some guy's daughter standing forlorn on a street corner, begging for help. Who was there to catch her when she had fallen? Where was her safety net? That last question stuck hard in my mind. I wish I could say I received an answer at the time, but I don't think I was listening very well, just blindly accusing God.

Never let it be said that I'm the most perceptive person. Shortly after getting home, I started to make a little snack for the kids. Upon opening one of the cupboards, several boxes fell to the floor. Here I was in my comfortable house, lacking nothing, with so much food that it was literally jumping from the cabinets. All I could think to do, however, was to grumble about whoever had left the cupboards like a loaded trap for me. Several weeks passed, though, before I understood how this fit into the chain of events.

There's more to the story, of course. A day off was scheduled at school the next day. My wife had taken a holiday and we had big plans to take the kids to a new museum in a nearby city. That's lady's plight, however, continued to stick in my mind. I decided that I'd make a slight detour in the morning and see if she was at the same interesection. So I wouldn't have to fumble with my wallet in traffic, I'd even have some cash ready in my shirt pocket. If you knew about my legendary cheapness, this alone would seem like a miracle.

I never got a chance. We never went on our trip. The phone rang far too early that morning for it to bring any good news. My loving wife, who has a better track record than I do of being coherant in the morning, reached over me to grab the phone. With the cord stretched over my face, I caught little snippets of her side of the conversation, which ended with, "Yes, Officer, bring her over." My beloved wife had just responded to one of those unexpected life-changing situations and she didn't even bother asking me. She didn't need to do that. She knew my answer instinctively. Explaining the situation and waiting for my response would have been a waste of time.

Perhaps you have a negative impression of your local police. Maybe it's due to the way you drive and the fact that you have a Moving Violation Punchcard, I don't know. My impression is a bit different, however. Shortly after the phone call, a police officer was at our door, carrying a Care Bear, a sleeping bag and a small suitcase. With him was one overwhelmed 10-year-old girl, a classmate of my daughter. She and her mother lived by themselves in a nearby apartment. The mother had died in her sleep and the girl had the misfortune to find her like that.

I must admit we didn't know the mother very well. Our daughters were good friends and previously had a couple of sleepovers at our place. They were new in town, but were planning to move soon to the Midwest to be closer to her family. In our brief conversations, we learned she had settled here temporarily because she was fleeing from an abusive ex-husband. Even with his conviction for felony abuse, this was as far as she was allowed to move pending the resolution of a messy court case about the matter. At the time, it struck me as odd that she shared such details, but in retrospect it was no coincidence. My wife and I knew just enough about the situation to understand that the daughter had to be kept away from her father for her own protection.

The Care Bear packing Officer filled us in on some more details. Even though the father had a no-contact order with his ex-wife, her death meant it would no longer be in effect. Legally, he could claim his daughter, even though she was literally terrified of him. Not to be flippant, but I think seeing somebody repeatedly beat the crap out of your Mother would have the same effect on anybody. Normal procedure in a case like this would have been to place her in foster care until the situation could be resolved. I have nothing but the utmost respect for foster parents, but being placed with complete strangers must be an incredible shock. As near as I can figure, the officer bent some rules to place her in our care on an emergency basis at the girl's insistence. My wife and I were humbled beyond words that she had asked to stay with us. More often than not, I strike myself as totally clueless when it comes to raising children. The officer, a fairly young guy, also politely asked if we'd like his advice. In addition to some of the psychological aspects she'd be facing, she'd need to feel like part of our family. My wife and I took his advice to heart and instantly had a new daughter, not some guest or boarder or charity case.

Her father (term loosely used) had been looking for her, just as we'd been warned. It was a matter of public record that she was placed with us, but his many run-ins with the law kept him from asking the police right away. We had essentially no legal authority to keep her, but we could stall and get the police involved again if he darkened our doorway. We even had to keep her home from school because he had gone there looking, too. In the meantime, my wife and I took part in the roller coaster legal proceedings to reunite our new daughter with her mother's family.

There's much more of course, but I'll cut to the chase. She is now safe with her Mother's sister far away from here. To say we miss her is an understatement of epic proportions. Given the chance, we'd have adopted her in heartbeat, but being with family on her Mother's side is the best outcome, of course. Looking back, though, it is amazing how none of this happened by chance. I still don't know why her Mother endured so much hardship and died so young. I don't expect to understand until I am home in Heaven one fine day. However, even though I didn't realize it at the time, God had my family ready as the safety net to catch one traumatized girl who seemingly had nowhere else to go. None of this was a coincidence by any stretch of the imagination.