MEET Mario

I don’t know quite how to tell this story or what it all meant. But I’ll try.

Recently I made the long drive from my home to our Church's temple near Washington, D.C. to commune with God, seek answers to some vexing professional and personal questions, and to feel peace during America’s turbulent times.

Then, because of an emergency with one of my clients, I had to detour to do some work on my laptop in the nearby Visitors Center.

And I missed my temple appointment.

So I made another, and I missed it too. 

Then I made a third, and it came and went.

Feeling a bit dejected, but thankful I was able to help a longtime client in need, I finally snapped this pic of the temple and began driving home.

Then I met Mario.

He was standing at the corner of Connecticut Ave. and the 495 Beltway offramp.

Mario was selling flowers, and we talked about his deep love for work. He’s neither unhappy nor unhoused. He’s just humble, hopeful, and hardworking.

Mario believes in earning every single thing he gets, working hard at multiple jobs, and smiling no matter what people say to him.

I gave him a few Kindness Cards, and he insisted I take these flowers in return. We soon said goodbye and I began walking back to my car.

But as I crossed the next intersection, an older woman in a small SUV rolled down her window and yelled, “HELLO! SIR? SIR? THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE FLOWERS!” She laughed and leaned playfully out the window with her arms extended.

Naturally, I did what Mario and most of you would have done.

I jumped the guardrail, ran to her car, and handed them over. The woman was instantly emotional, and she and her passenger both covered their mouths in sheer surprise. 

“These were meant for you,” I said, and I could already sense a spiritual lump in my soul.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” they said as the light changed and they pulled away. The smiles on their faces was the most beautiful sight! 

All that remained was driving exactly 100 miles home and wondering what it all meant.

Honestly? I might never know. 

Maybe it’s me seeing signs when there are none. 

Maybe it’s coincidence, not providence.

Maybe it was God granting me a sacred, sweet experience because I wasn’t able to spend time inside His holy house.

Or maybe it was Him coming to me.

Either way, none of this happens without the movement, the magic, and you.