December 1992

Although my only son, Doug, was reported missing on December 3rd, 1992 (in Xenia, Ohio), we had already promised Al's four children that we would spend Christmas in Utah. (My siblings, the police department and everyone in Ohio knew the Utah phone numbers where they could reach us.)
I wanted to spend Christmas Eve in a church to request that God help us find Doug. The closest religious building was a Franciscan Monastry.
We arrived just before the monks, who take a vow of silence, were to conduct their Christmas Eve concert and were invited to sit in the chapel to listen.
I lowered the kneeling pew and sat, head bowed and praying, while the others sat reverently on the bench behind me. Al was raised a Catholic, my son-in-law was a Mormon, while Lisa and I were both Protestants.
When they finished singing and had exited, I turned to the others. I found comfort in their chapel, in their Godly devotion but something bothered me. "I must really be out of it. I didn't understand a word of ANY of their hymns."
Lisa leaned forward and whispered, "Neither did we, Sandy. They were singing in Latin!"
We'd sat for well over an hour--speechless--and suddenly their love for me was obvious. Lisa and I rolled our eyes at one another but covered our mouths. We began to giggle as we exited and then began laughing out loud. Suddenly Al and Richard were laughing too.
Al waited a second, then inquired, "What's so funny, Hon?"
"Well," I snickered, "I can't hear so I have an excuse but why were you all silent when their hymns weren't in English?"
"You looked as if you felt better." Al smiled. "It was the least we could do to make you feel better."

Even in our darkest hour, God sends laughter to comfort us.

Love you all,
:)Sandy