A Pie in the Oven

I got this in my email this morning and thought you'd all enjoy it. I did.



A woman was getting a homemade cherry pie ready to put into
the oven when the phone rang. It was the school nurse. Her
son had come down with a high fever, and would she come and
take him home? The mother calculated how long it would take
to drive to school and back, and how long the pie should
bake, and concluded there was enough time. Popping the pie
in the oven, she left for school. When she arrived, her
son's fever was worse and the nurse urged her to take him to
the doctor.

She drove to the clinic as fast as she dared. She was frayed
a bit more as the doctor emerged from the examining room and
handed her a slip of paper. "Get him to bed," he told her,
handing her the prescription, "and start him on this right
away."

By the time she got the boy home and in bed and headed out
again for the shopping mall, she was not only frayed, but
frazzled and frantic as well. And she had forgotten about
the pie in the oven.

At the mall she found a pharmacy, got the prescription
filled, and rushed back to the car, which was locked. There
were her keys, hanging in the ignition switch, locked inside
the car.

She began searching the mall for a wire coat hanger -- which
turned out not to be easy. Wooden hangers and plastic
hangers were there in abundance, but shops didn't use wire
hangers anymore. After combing through a dozen stores, she
finally found a wire hanger. Hurrying out of the mall, she
halted. She stared at the wire coat hanger. "I don't know
what to do with this!"

Then she remembered the pie in the oven. All the
frustrations of the past hour collapsed on her and she began
crying. Then she prayed, "Dear Lord, my boy is sick and he
needs this medicine and my pie is in the oven and the keys
are locked in the car. Lord, I don't know what to do with
this coat hanger. Dear Lord, send somebody who does know
what do with it, and I really need that person NOW, Lord.
Amen." She was wiping her eyes when a beat-up older car
pulled up to the curb and stopped in front of her.

A young man, twentyish-looking, in a stained T-shirt and
ragged jeans, got out. He was coming her way. When he drew
near, she stepped in front of him and held out the wire coat
hanger. "Young man," she said, "do you know how to get into
a locked car with one of these?"

He gaped at her for a moment and then plucked the hanger
from her hand. "Where's the car?"

She had never seen anything like it -- it was simply amazing
how easily he got into her car. A quick look at the door and
window, a couple of twists of the coat hanger, and the door
was open. When she saw that, she threw her arms around him.

"Oh," she said, "the Lord sent you! You're such a good boy."

He stepped back and said, "No, ma'am, I'm not a good boy. I
just got out of prison yesterday."

She jumped at him and she hugged him again fiercely. "Bless
the Lord!" she cried. "He sent me a professional!"