I went back to say thank you

All you need to know is this: There was a boy who ran away.  There was a worker where the boy ran.  There was a woman, yes, she is me, who happened to be at the place where the worker was, where the boy ran.  The boy knew the woman. The woman knew the boy.  The boy told the worker and the woman some truth.  Dark dusk truth.  Mossy furtive truth.  Truth with sharp teeth.

The man was there, the boy was there, the woman was there and eventually other people came too: a mother, a father, a police officer in a tight navy uniform.

And there was someone else there too.  Only this person does not have a name.  This person is not even a person.  It is an it, the runic It.  The something that splices one person to another.  That spoons one life into the next.  That which reveals the seeds.  The fiber.  The soft coming shadow of spring.

You may call it fate.  You may call it synchronicity.  Kismet.  I call it God, all that is good and gracious. 

There was a boy.  A man.  A woman.  A truth with sharp teeth.  And there was God, too.  Nodding.  Knowing.  Seeing the gentle unrolling when troubled turns to tender.  When what was unbearable is finally borne.