I walked into the chapel for a memorial Mass for a dear friend, Margie, who died at 90. As I slipped into a seat at the end of a row next to a woman who was writing, I noticed she was correcting a page filled with handwritten notes. She crossed something out and wrote above it, then put it down, as if unsatisfied with it. We exchanged hellos and I asked how she knew the deceased. She didn’t know Margie, but said Margie had been very kind to her sister. She was going to talk about what Margie had done for her sister. That sounded like Margie, being kind to others.
When the Mass ended, the priest invited everyone to the reception, but I had an appointment, so I couldn’t stay. As I got up to leave, I turned to my seatmate and said, “Good luck with what you’re going to say, I know you will talk from your heart.”
I don’t know what possessed me to say the second part, but she looked visibly touched by it, nodded and said, “I will.” I walked away thanking God for those few extra words because it was as if she needed to hear them. Maybe she was stuck in her head about the way she would phrase what she wanted to say. Hopefully, she’d put her notes aside and just talk from her heart about the impact Margie had on her sister’s life.
It was only later I realized I spoke to her from my heart. No thought given to whether it was right. Just allowed the words to flow from my heart.
Heart to heart. Connections that can change the world.
