Writing all day, I went to the pool for a break. My girlfriend, “Just come for a little.” I listened.

Meeting new friends in my community, one caught my attention. Not for his charm, his handsomeness, his personality, but for his necklace.

St. Christopher around his neck, I inquired.

“I never take it off.” He said, “I just got a new chain for it.”

Noah wears St. Christopher. Given to him the day he went into the hospital, it never comes off. Twice, I was allowed to wear it, his one and two heart surgeries. Slightly sad when giving it back, I felt closer to him, carrying it around my neck.

Known for carrying a child across a wild river, St. Christopher, the Boatman, is said to have lived in the third century. His real identity, uncertain, matters not. What matters is the carrying.

Who carries you when the river is wild? The Great Universe, God, Spirit, Hope, always available, carries in random ways.

Today I received an email from another momma, our children introduced us, unknown to them, by way of their disease. Reminding me of the river of life, some parts turbulent, some parts still, it’s all the same river. Resembling the addict, some parts turbulent, some parts still, “We can’t control our children any more than we can control the river.”

Her words carried me today.