I’m in the rookie league after taking off six months ago. Until I reach 200 points again, Uber will not tell me how long the ride will last. So far, this day has been very short rides. Uber allows me to set the direction for the ride search. I asked the app to send me toward home.
Ding! Uber directs me to pick up “April.”
April includes directions, giving me a gate code. I didn’t need the code. The gate swings open on my approach. I also didn’t need the description of the house. As I maneuver down the long driveway, I can see kids, dogs, and a couple of ladies. I’m unsure who my passenger(s) are until I see one lady hugging the other and the children lining up for hugs.
One of the dogs is on my left, excoriating me for trespassing. I look to my right and see one of the children in tears as she waves goodbye to April.
“Good afternoon, April. Looks like they don’t want you to leave!” I spoke. (I assume she’s an aunt or close family friend.)
“Yes, that happens every time I leave,” she says. “I miss them each time!”
My app tells me our trip will last about twenty-five minutes.
She asks, “Are you from this area?”
I tell her my story. Retired. Love meeting new people. Write a weekly blog; most stories come from over 18,000 passengers in eight years.
“What kind of stories do you write?” she asks. I tell her how to get to my website if she ever wants to read some of them. She pulls up my site as we’re talking.
I told her about a rider I picked up a few days ago. He’s very wealthy and is involved in the family business. His parents were married for more than fifty years before their divorce.
April asks, “Do you get all your stories from when the riders are in your car, or do you follow up with them afterward?”
“With a few exceptions, I rarely see my passengers again,” I tell her about an alcoholic that I drove about a dozen times. One of those rides included the man’s son and a heartbreaking story from a Thanksgiving weekend for them.
She pauses for a minute. “I guess I have a story, also.”
“Those children you saw back there are mine. My husband and I got involved in drugs several years ago. My mother is taking care of them while we go through separate, heavily-immersive rehab.”
“Some states have a policy that allows family members to report parents to the authorities if they believe the children are at risk. It sounds unbelievable, but I’ve never been more grateful that my family intervened. My husband and I are about halfway through the six-month process, and we’re both doing well.”
“I live with six other women going through the same program. We use the 12-step Alcoholics Anonymous (AA) process. My life was a disaster, and I don’t think I would ever recover if I weren’t in this program.”
She continues, “For me, the key factor is my faith. AA tells us to lean on a ‘higher power,’ which for me is God.”
“I suspect that higher power is God for everyone, even if they say they don’t believe,” I say. “Somewhere, behind all the denial, I don’t see an alternative.”
She agrees.
(Note: I spent five years on the board of directors for the Home of Grace for Women in my younger days. Each month, a resident would speak to our board members with a testimonial of her progress at the Home. During those years, many of us could recognize the addict’s sincerity. Some of the ladies learned precisely the words they were supposed to speak. That experience causes me to believe in the sincerity and honesty of April’s story.)
This challenge has inspired April’s mother, and she wants to help addicts get the best treatment possible. My experience with the Home of Grace for Women showed me that many people with addiction and their families need much more intensive care than that provided by insurance. We were often the last resort after those folks had spent every penny available.
We discussed her hopes and dreams for a future with her family. I told her that I would pray for her and her family. I told her I belonged to a prayer group called the Men of St. Joseph, and even though I moved away from them in May, I would ask them to pray for her.
Christmas is a time for gifts. It’s also the season for favors. I know some of the Men of St. Joseph members read this blog. Please add April to your prayers. And, pray for April’s mother and those who are desperately trying to help.
I’m asking for more favors. Hundreds of you subscribers read my blog each week. Please take a moment to pray for this family to get through this Christmas. Pray that Christmas 2025 will be the best Christmas April’s family ever has.
You have the power. So, do me this favor. And, while you’re at it, please know that I wish you a Merry Christmas and a Happy, Holy New Year!
God Bless,
Tommy