THE TRUTH WAS, I DIDN'T KNOW WHERE I BELONGED. After nearly 35 years of marriage to my best friend—we did everything together, including going to the supermarket—my husband was gone. His passing left me feeling very alone in Arlington, Texas, thousands of miles from my children and grandchildren.
Someone had once told me, "No widow should move until one year has passed." But I decided that was a limiting notion. So I prayed, turning my thought to the unlimited source of all good, God. And I did so confidently, knowing that I would be led to exactly the right place for me.
Little did I know that I was beginning a journey that would lead me some 1,700 miles to California's Sierra Mountains. Nor could I have known, at the time, that I'd soon be serving as First Reader of a branch Church of Christ, Scientist, there a church that, at the very time I was feeling shocked and alone in Texas, was preparing the way for my healing.
