With a Little Help From My Friends

Deborah had popped in on Thursday. She was babysitting Jacob.
"I'm just outside your house. Do you want to go for a walk?" She said on the phone as she waited for me to look out my back door.
"Yes! I could use a break. This novel is getting really close to completion and I need to stretch my legs. Could I have 5 minutes?"
"Let me guess! You don't have your eyeliner on."
"Well, my hair is wet!"
"It's beautiful outside! Come on!"
As Simmy walked towards Deborah, she waved happily but just as quickly said, "You know what happened?"
"No, what happened?"
"My favorite Uncle died yesterday!"
"Oh no, not the one in the wheelchair?" Simmy knew how much Deborah loved that man.
"Yes."
"Oh, I'm so sorry! You just loved him. You were so good to him."
Simmy recalled how Deborah's husband would put up a make-shift wheelchair ramp just to get him into their house for family gatherings.
Sigh!
Simmy went to the cutting garden and filled a pot with zinnia and then drove to Deborah's house and quietly and unobtrusively placed the flowers on her outdoor summer table.
"Sometimes, there are no words... but a few flowers might help..."
Then Simmy remembered she'd have to ask Sam how that young man, from his work, who had a heart attack this week was doing.
Simmy had prayed for him... inadvertently...
A long time ago, she had trained herself to pray whenever she heard an ambulance wail... she just thought it was a really good habit to get into.