Six Thomas Jeffersons

I was having a bad day.  Nothing was all that wrong, but I was in one of my moods where nothing was right.  I was begrudgingly helpful.  In the afternoon I was asked to go on an emergency call to anoint a dying woman.  Drop my agenda and go off.  OK.  I get to the nursing home and the daughter of the dying woman asked if we could wait for her husband to arrive.  So much for an emergency.  It was just one of those days.  I sat down and said that since it was not such an emergency I would do some work.  I ignored the daughter and did some cell phone stuff.  Then I was hit with a bout of niceness.  It did not come from me.  I began to talk to the daughter and ask about her dying mother.  The mother was 97 and with all mental faculties until yesterday.  She even played bridge.  Nice chat.  Then the husband came in.  We greeted one another in my miracle nice mood and got on with the sacrament.  I chatted with them afterwards, and said that if the mother woke up, to tell me, because I needed two miracles to become a saint.  On the way out, the husband asked if he could make a contribution.  I said sure thinking it was for the church.  Not for greedy me.  He took out six Thomas Jeffersons and handed them to me.  "This is for you father," he said.  Good grief!  Sometimes it pays to be nice.  I was flat broke from my New York visit.  God is good, even to rotten priests.