I was born into a military family in the 1950s, which has been a source of many wonder-filled, 'aha!' moments. Though we moved around, Medway, Ohio, is where I spent memorable times as a child until my father's first duty station transfer.

Many lifetimes worth of experiences later, my small girls and I moved to a house on the Tempe/Phoenix, AZ, border in 1980.

At that time I was helping friends re-channel the minds of their canine companions, and through those associations I formed a friendship with a neighbor across the street. She and her husband, both older than I, were newlyweds and puppy owners, and I found myself spending time with her in the evenings while her husband worked a second shift. I met him briefly and we waved and greeted each other but didn't get into histories, or even last names.

After a few months, she came to me asking if I knew anyone who would take her dog, as her husband had decided to move back to his hometown in Ohio. Now, this was the area I left only a year before and knew of the poor job market and economic situation. She had only lived in the Western states and was apprehensive about the move, especially since she had no knowledge of his family or their receptivity to her. She fought her tears and when I told her what I knew of that area, she asked me to relay the information to her husband.

Moments later, sitting in their living room, telling him what I knew, we delved into our respective pasts in order to relate on a closer level. When I told him of the neighborhood where I had lived in Medway, Ohio, I saw a change come over his face. His eyes lit up and his features softened into a smile as he listened to my story. He asked which house we had lived in and excused himself for a moment with the explanation that he had something to show me.

He came from the back of the house holding a black-and- white photo from 1955 of ME in a dress holding my teddy bear!
      
Imagine my surprise to learn that his brother and family had lived right across the street from us. As a 19-year-old, he had helped his brother build the garage on that property. While working he saw me standing in my driveway watching them, and he thought that was such a cute picture he just had to take it.

The surreal part of this whole story is how he carried that photo with him for 25 years and had it right at his fingertips when it was time.

I marvel at these moments, and I have been blessed with many in this lifetime. They help me overcome questioning my path, and assure me I am where I am supposed to be, doing what IS to be done. They are "landmarks" of my "roadmap" and blessings of abundance on my journey. I am joy-filled with those blessings, and thank you for the opportunity to once again relate this smile-filled remembering.