Blessings, blessings!

“Blessings, blessings”. These are the words with which I think of Greta Meyer, the mother of my best friend in High School, Stephen Meyer.

Greta and her husband Martyn had escaped from Nazi Germany in 1939. They settled in Bristol, U.K. Stephen was their only child.

He and I became the most unlikely of friends in High School. The son of German Jewish immigrants, and a young fundamentalist. But friends we were, and friends we are. I met with Stephen in Nov 2006 in his home in Shropshire.

Stephen and I would take long urban/suburban hikes together. As we left his home, Greta would always say “Blessings, blessings”.


I thought of Greta today. I was at the homeless shelter with the wonderful “Wednesday Team”.

There is M a retired fire-fighter from Buffalo, N.Y.

And B (1) a 90+ years old retiree who is faithful to the Wednesday team.

Then there is R, a 60 something retiree from Venice, FL.

And this team pals around with another B (2) a former Res. House client, who now is a part time employee.

We are a wonderfully cohesive team.

M decided that we should have lunch together today. “Bless his heart” (as they say in the South), he also treated us.

M a Roman Catholic.

B (1) a Methodist.

B (2) A Presbyterian

R a Roman Catholic

And Jmp the Episcopalian

It was a lovely lunch. The food was good and the company was better! We laughed and joked. We had serious talk about our commitment to the homeless. We enjoyed being together.

As I drove home, Greta Meyer’s words rang in my mind. “Blessings, blessings!”

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