After waiting for four months, the crew to replace my roof finally arrived. Too many jobs, building material delays, and bad weather all led to the long wait, but here they finally were, ready to replace my leaking and crumbling roof. The men knew what they were doing and quickly got to work.

On the second day, as the workers were taking a break from all that hammering and banging, I joined them to look at their progress. The crew consisted of three men working on the roof and one on the ground, and I got into a conversation with the one stationed by the saw on the ground. He explained that he is responsible for cutting wooden boards and preparing the metal sheets, which are then installed by the other guys. He said: “I am mostly down here but also work up on the roof. As a matter of fact, I was up there this morning and almost slipped.” There had been a wet spot which he didn’t see… Talking about scary – almost falling from a two-story building!

He continued to tell me: “But guess what happened? Right after I slipped, my colleague found some writing on the metal, right there where I almost went down, which said ‘Praise God from Whom all Blessings Flow.’ Somebody was watching over me – can you believe that?”

I couldn’t quite make sense of what he was talking about, “Writing? What kind of writing?”, and he explained: Somebody left a message on one of the metal panels which read:

Praise God from Whom all Blessings Flow

As soon as I heard that verse again, I knew who the writer was: my husband.

Tom was a carpenter and builder, a general contractor, who could build and repair anything. He had painted the roof several times over the years, but I didn’t know that he had repaired it. This work must have occurred before we moved into the house 20 years ago, back when it was still a rental property. But I knew of his habit to leave inscriptions, like a Bible verse or a Buddhist sutra, on job sites - and this one was his favorite.

The worker found the piece of metal with the inscription and cut it out for me. And, yes, it is clearly Tom’s handwriting. It is perfectly legible and well preserved as if it had been written yesterday. What a precious gift – as my husband died six years ago.

Tom made a point of sending extra money to the mortgage company as often as he could. He always said: “I want the house to be paid off so that you have a home.” And he was successful in finishing that several years before his death.

Seeing his note, written on the roof so many years ago, is a very powerful reminder of just how much he cared for me and what a beautiful spirit he was, and still is.