I was the lowest that I had ever been in my life. It was Christmas Eve and all I could do was choke back sobs and hold back tears. I wasn't even a step close to getting over a tragedy that occurred the day after Thanksgiving.
I'm Rob Walters. At 48 years old I had a distinguished career as a neurosurgeon; wealth not only from my profession but an inheritance from my parents and unfortunately an inheritance and insurance payouts from Amanda, my wife of twenty six years; good health, good friends, good feelings from doing at least eight hours of charity work a week, and all of the material things one could want. I would trade it all to reverse what happened the day after Thanksgiving. On that day my wife Amanda, my daughter Anita, my granddaughter Bridgett, my son Jackson, and my son-in-law Greg, were killed in a private plane crash flying from our house to visit Amanda's parents and Greg's family in the Atlanta area. I had two emergency surgeries to perform on Friday and Saturday and was going to join them that Sunday, flying commercial.
Since Amanda was from the Atlanta area originally and according to her wishes in her will was to be cremated and her ashes stored in a columbarium in her home town, I saw no reason not to have the ashes of my daughter, son, and granddaughter, stored the same way. Greg's parents also wanted that. I had visited Amanda's parents the last few days, but that made things worse for me in trying to overcome my grief. Therefore as I left their house at 11 a. m. on Christmas Eve I told them that I was flying home -- to my empty house -- that afternoon, even though I had no flight planned.
Instead of driving my rental car to the airport I drove to the columbarium where the ashes of my loved ones were housed. I spent ten minutes in front of each niche quietly talking to my son-in-law, daughter, son, and granddaughter. When I got to Amanda's niche I tried to talk but all that I could do was cry; "Why did you leave me, Amanda? How can I go on without you?" I kept repeating under my sobs. Finally I just collapsed to the floor, covered my face, and sobbed an indeterminate amount of time before I finally got my act together. I returned to my car, asked my GPS for directions to the airport, and started driving.
As I started my drive to the airport I passed the church where Amanda and I got married. I had to stop and choke back tears. As I gazed up at it the sign in front said "Holy Commotion Service 1 p. m.," and then listed two other Christmas Eve services at 7 p. m. and 9 p. m. I recalled that the Holy Commotion Services Amanda and I attended when the kids were young were quick services with lots of kids. As I remembered them I thought "What could be more uplifting than seeing a bunch of happy kids?" I hadn't attended church since my daughter's wedding years ago, but even though I wasn't expecting to achieve inner peace I thought that it certainly couldn't hurt to go to a happy church service on Christmas Eve. Since it was already 12:40 I drove into the church parking lot and entered the sanctuary.
I found a seat fairly near the back and was uplifted somewhat by the excited little kids entering with their parents. However, two rows of pews in front of me I saw a young mother who looked more forlorn than happy -- and harried.
The young mother had three kids. I'm not good at guessing ages but was quite sure all were younger than eight. Her oldest was a girl, the middle child a boy, and her youngest another girl. When she stood up to help one of the kids I could see that she was pregnant -- probably about six months.
As the service proceeded I couldn't refrain from looking at the young woman. Occasionally I saw tears in her eyes. Her kids were restless and she was almost like trying to herd cats in dealing with them. Suddenly protective feelings that I hadn't experienced before for anyone not in my family seemed to surge in me.
After the recessional the young mother stayed seated, obviously waiting for everyone to exit before she tried dressing her kids for the outdoor temperature -- which was in the high thirties or low forties. I waited until all the parishioners were past my pew and then went up to the young woman.
"Hi, my name is Dr. Robert Walters," I said. "I noticed that you seem to be overwhelmed -- just like I would be trying to deal with three active darling young ones -- and wonder if there is something that I can do to help?"
The young woman seemed to be surprised. She caught herself then mumbled "I'm not used to having people offer to help. My name is Gail Downing, and these are Sally, Jimmy, and Evie," she said pointing to her children from oldest to youngest. "Thank you for offering but I think that I can manage."
Just then Evie started sprinting -- as fast as what I assumed was a two year old -- could move up toward the alter. I chased after her, caught her, laughed with her, tickled her a little, and then returned her to Gail.
"Thanks, maybe I could use some help," Gail sighed.
I collared the minister and asked if I could help Gail get the kids together at the back of the sanctuary. He smiled and said "Certainly; just be sure that the front door automatically locks behind you when you exit."
I brought Gail and her kids to the back of the sanctuary and then said "Because of recent tragedies in my life I came here looking for inner peace. Maybe if you tell me your story and let me help I'll move toward the inner peace that I seek."
That seemed to throw Gail; I think that she really wanted help but was reluctant to trust a stranger, even one in church. I sensed that and said "Let me prove to you first that I'm not a pervert and you can trust me." With that I got out my driver's license, goggled myself on my phone, and handed both to Gail.
After Gail looked over my phone and license she smiled and said "You're a famous doctor."
"Maybe infamous," I chuckled, and then getting somber I said "Maybe you also need to know why I'm seeking inner peace." I searched for one of the articles reporting my family's demise and handed my phone to her. She read it with increasing trepidation and then at the end started softly sobbing.
Her words weren't what I expected. "It seems that you're one of the few people who can empathize with my situation. My husband Trent died in an industrial accident four months ago. He was a good loving man but had only $5,000 in life insurance and we had virtually no savings leaving us with little money, and we have virtually no family to help us."
"Didn't his employer pay damages for the accident?" I inquired.
"No; his employer and its insurance company have offered nothing but a pittance. This is a hard time for me; the bank is threatening to foreclose, my van needs work, and the kids are acting up because I had to tell them that Santa may not be able to make it to our house this Christmas." Then she did start sobbing.
I took her into my arms without startling her, yelled to the kids "How would you like to go to MacDonald's," which got their attention and had them scurrying toward us. Gail broke away from me, wiped her eyes and started to say something when I handed her a fifty dollar bill.
Then I whispered to her "Give me your address and I'll bring dinner in tonight and see what I can do about getting Santa to visit tomorrow morning."
She got an enormous smile and said "You don't have to do that Dr. Walters."
"Rob, not Dr. Walters; and it would really help me along my path toward inner peace," I smiled. "Please, Gail, let me help myself by helping you."
"OK," she choked out.
Gail gave me the ages of her kids -- 7, 5, and 2 -- and what the 7 and 5 year olds wanted for Christmas (she only named two things for each of them), and then I helped bundle the kids up.
I carried little Evie out to what appeared to be a ten year old minivan in poor shape while Jimmy and Sally ran alongside talking about what they were going to get at Micky D's.
As soon as I saw Gail's van turn out of the parking lot I got out my phone and searched for the closest mall -- which fortunately was open until 5 p. m. I got there in ten minutes found the store that I was looking for and by made the Christmas of a young woman staffer by paying her $200 to pick out not only the two things each that the 7 and 5 year olds wanted but other gifts for them and a bunch that she assured me the two year old Evie would like. She even helped me carry to load to my rental car.
Next I went to another store and picked out something for Gail -- she needed to feel good about herself too -- and a bunch of rolls of wrapping paper and gift bags.
By then it five o'clock and the mall was closing. I searched on my phone for a food store and restaurants near Gail's address. There was a local food store open until six p. m. so I hustled there and bought lots of food for breakfast that I hoped that little kids would like, as well as some staples. There were few restaurants open but a five star rated Chinese restaurant was open until ten p. m., so I went there and got a wide variety of dishes.
About 6:30 I showed up at Gail's very small but neat house with the Chinese food, and then made a separate trip to get the bags of groceries. I noticed that Gil looked 50% better than in church. She actually occasionally smiled.
The Chinese food was a big hit, even with little Evie. By the end of the meal we were all laughing and yukking it up. By then Gail looked even more relaxed than when I arrived.
After dinner we all played Candy Land -- something I hadn't played for twenty years -- as Evie sat on my lap. Evie got to draw the cards and "help" move her pawn to the proper spot. Sally won which made her as thrilled as an adult winning the lottery. After Sally and Jimmy got ready for bed and while Gail was getting Evie ready I read Sally and Jimmy a story and tucked them in. As I did that Gail was tucking Evie in.
"Thank you so much for dinner and game-time," Gail grinned.
"Hey, we're not finished. We have lots of Santa's presents to wrap," I smiled.
"What?" she asked.
"Help me bring them in from my rental car.
Gail was overwhelmed with the amount of presents; it took me two trips and her one to get everything into the house. We then proceeded to wrap everything and put gift tags on the presents. Gail had a small fake Christmas tree with a few ornaments on it and when the gifts were piled around the tree you almost couldn't see it.