A woman was getting a homemade cherry pie ready to put into the oven when the phone rang. It was the school nurse. Her son had come down with a high fever and would she come and take him home? The mother calculated how long it would take to drive to school and back, and how long the pie should bake, and concluded there was enough time. Popping the pie in the oven, she left for school. When she arrived, her son's fever was worse and the nurse urged her to take him to the doctor.
She drove to the clinic as fast as she dared. She was frayed a bit more as the doctor emerged from the examining room and handed her a slip of paper. "Get him to bed," he told her, handing her the prescription, "and start him on this right away."
By the time she got the boy home and in bed and headed out again for the shopping mall, she was not only frayed, but frazzled and frantic as well. And she had forgotten about the pie in the oven.
At the mall she found a pharmacy, got the prescription filled and rushed back to the car . . . . . . Which was locked. There were her keys, hanging in the ignition switch, locked inside the car.
She began searching the mall for a wire coat hanger-which turned out not to be easy. Wooden hangers and plastic hangers were there in abundance, but shops didn't use wire hangers anymore. After combing through a dozen stores, she finally found a wire hanger. Hurrying out of the mall, she halted. She stared at the wire coat hanger. "I don't know what to do with this!"
Then she remembered the pie in the oven. All the frustrations of the past hour collapsed on her and she began crying. Then she prayed, "Dear Lord, my boy is sick and he needs this medicine and my pie is in the oven and the keys are locked in the car and, Lord, I don't know what to do with this coat hanger. Dear Lord, send somebody who does know what do with it, and I really need that person NOW, Lord. Amen," She was wiping her eyes when a beat-up older car pulled up to the curb and stopped in front of her.
A young man, twentyish-looking, in a stained T-shirt and ragged jeans, got out. He was coming her way. When he drew near she stepped in front of him and held out the wire coat hanger. "Young man," she said, "do you know how to get into a locked car with one of these?" He gaped at her for a moment, then plucked the hanger from her hand. "Where's the car?"
She had never seen anything like it-it was simply amazing how easily he got into her car. A quick look at the door and window, a couple of twists of the coat hanger and the door was open. When she saw that she threw her arms around him.
"Oh," she said, "the Lord sent you! You're such a good boy."
He stepped back and said, "No ma'am, I'm not a good boy. I just got out of prison yesterday." She jumped at him and she hugged him again fiercely. "Bless the Lord! she cried. "He sent me a professional!"
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