EDITOR'S NOTE: The Times Free Press is continuing a series of stories from readers about life experiences they attribute to divine intervention. We'll publish another each week as your stories continue to arrive. If you have a God Thing to share, email Life@timesfreepress.com, or mail to Life Department, Chattanooga Times Free Press, 400 E. 11th St., Chattanooga, TN 37403.
This week, Tamara Klemm tells how she met her husband.
When I was in my mid-20s with a 3-year-old daughter, I had been divorced for almost two years. I desperately prayed to God that he would bring a fine man into our lives. Our only male role model had been my father, but one day in the middle of August, my dad went to work, had a heart attack and died. My mom, daughter and I were just devastated.
A couple of weeks later, my mom expressed a desire to go to a favorite cabin we had always rented in northern Michigan. So I drove the three of us up North on Friday of Labor Day weekend.
When Sunday morning came, we decided to go to breakfast at a local pancake house. There were only about 10 tables, and each one was occupied by at least one person. My mother asked me if she should ask one of the young men sitting alone if we could join him. I had to laugh because she would never do such a thing, but she did and we sat down with one of the young men.
He also worked for General Motors, at a different division than I, and he said he would give me a call when we got back to Detroit. He did, and we now have been married over 52 years. During that time, he adopted my daughter, we had a son, and we now have five grandchildren and four great-grandchildren.
I thank God every day for answering my prayers ... not always in the way we expect but answered nonetheless.
— Tamara Klemm