Miracles on May 1st

My sister CJ, niece Jean and I left for Spain the evening of April 29th and stayed in Madrid for a couple of days to get over jet-lag before beginning the Camino de Santiago. On May 1st, Feast of St. Joseph the Worker (my mother's birthday and my feast day) I experienced two miracles... well, you decide if they are miracles or not!

Miracle of the Cell Phone: While having breakfast in an outdoor cafe, a couple of young teenage girls approached CJ and me and thrust a paper in our faces. They seemed to be asking us to buy something, and they huried off when we refused. Later, when it was time to go, I couldn't find my cell phone. Of course, I prayed to St. Anthony, and looked all over for it. When we finally realized that the girls had stolen my phone I decided it was a lost cause trying to retrieve it, so I found an internet cafe and discontinued the service. I surprised myself at how free I felt!

We toured the streets and early afternoon headed back to where we were staying to take a much-needed nap. When we arrived, we found a note on our door asking that we stop by the office. After our nap, Jean headed downstairs to see what they wanted and returned with a very puzzled look on her face. "They found your cell phone! The police have your cell phone!" Now all three of us were mystified. How in the world could the police have found my cell phone and tracked me down???
The station was in the Metro, which was just across the plaza, so we hurried over there. Jean speaks good Spanish, so she was able to find out how the strange set of circumstances unfolded.

After the girls left with my cell phone, a plain-clothed policeman saw them running and recognized them as known thieves. They've done this many times before, but never go to jail because they are under-age. He figured they were up to no good, and apprehended them, finding my cell phone on them.

Back in New Jersey, I had just changed the time to an hour before my passcode would kick in. Since I had just taken a picture, the phone was open for an hour, so the policeman was able to look into my Facebook and saw my picture. (He said he thought Tom Kearns was my husband.) By the time he got back to the station, the phone needed the passcode again. He handed it to another policeman who was good at cracking codes. First he put in: 1234, the most common passcode, we were told. Then 1111, another common code. Neither worked. Then he guessed about how old I was and put in my birth year: 1945. Voila! It worked! (I've sinced changed it, you can be sure!).

So, they are now in! But how did they ever track me down in Madrid? Well, Jeannie had forwarded me an e-mail in Spanish giving the reservations for the place where we were staying -- which wasn't far from the Metro. One of them headed over to see if I were there and the rest you know!

If I hadn't changed the timing on my passcode; if the girls hadn't been running; if the policeman hadn't recognized them as known thieves; if he hadn't immediately gone into my Facebook and seen my picture; if I hadn't used my birth year as the passcode; if the policeman hadn't guessed my birth year; if Jeannie hadn't forwarded the e-mail telling where we were staying; and most importantly, if the Madrid police had not been caring enough to try to track the owner of the cell phone down -- I wouldn't have my phone today!

Answered prayer through St. Anthony? Miracle? Or coincidence after coincidence after coincidence?

Miracle of Mass: You might not consider this much of a "miracle" but it meant a lot to me, and the timing was amazing. When I woke up on Thursday, May 1st, I realized that I didn't have any idea what time Mass was in any of the churches. I mentioned to CJ and Jean that this would be the very first time in my religious life that I had missed Mass on my Feast Day. All throughout the day, as we passed a number of churches, I never found it convenient to stop in. We were always heading somewhere. Finally, at 8:40 p.m. I saw a church and determined to stop in. Walking in the back door, I discovered that Mass had begun, and the priest was just finishing the Gospel. I was able to attend Mass after all! Maybe not a "miracle", but definitely another sign of God's care for me!