A Personal

Good Samaritans don’t always wear halos or shining armor. Perhaps that is why most of them go through life unrecognized. The official definition of the term was first recorded in 1840–50; from the parable of the good Samaritan in Luke 10:30–37.

They are normally unthanked and rarely, if ever, rewarded,

However, when one crosses your path, he or she will never be forgotten,

Three years ago when Mary Elizabeth unexpectedly took her final voyage on the fabled ferry, there was no family available to provide assistance with her final passage.

Her two siblings were in different parts of the country then consumed with COVID, and David. her beloved husband was hospitalized.

The Good Samaritan who emerged without a murmur of protest wasn’t identified by a symbol or significant badge. She didn’t wear a garment belonging to a religious order.

Rather she was someone I had never met nor spoken to before.

Yet for six weeks, she carried the immense burden of the final legal, and significantly difficult physical burden of a stranger’s sudden death.

That was three years ago, and this past week, the Angel of Compassion, with the lovely name of Melissa, traveled with great difficulty to help me, the oldest of the three Donlon sisters, close the door of memory.

The time we spent together was significant, While it was obviously sad, I was blessed to spend time with a real life Good Samaritan,

Melissa, who is a lovely and attractive women, wears no halo, nor distinctive ID, hood or robe. She had no outer glow identifying her when she arrived weary from a long and arduous trip.

Initially, I wondered why this remarkable young woman was traveling so far to visit me. I quickly learned that she understood my need to learn the end of the story and find absolution.

For several reasons, I have always rebuffed the word “closure,” but perhaps that is what I experienced in my own encounter with a good Samaritan,

Nor will I ever again doubt I am being led down that perilous path and must fear not.