All the Difference in the World (7/18/2026)

There’s a new family in the neighborhood. Watching them move and settle reminded me of another time when it was me who was trying to settle. It was October 1973, my husband and I moved our 1- and 2-year-olds and our household belongings to Beloit, WI, because he had been assigned to start up the food lab in the new Hormel plant being built. Headquarters didn’t care that I was nearly due with our third child. And to make matters worse, the day after we moved into our new home, my husband was sent to take a course in Illinois. He took the bus in case I needed our only car. As I waved goodbye to him, I’d never felt so alone, even though I had my two toddlers with me.

When I got home from the bus station, I put the two children down for a nap. The questions swirled in my head. What if something went wrong? What if the baby decided to come while my husband was away? As I tried to unpack some more boxes to keep me occupied, the doorbell rang. When I opened the door, there she was, with cookies, flowers and a smile that could calm any soul. She introduced herself. “I’m Catherine, I live right over there,“ she told me pointing to the lovely home across the street. “Welcome to the neighborhood.” Then she realized I was very pregnant. “Oh, you’re expecting. When’s your baby due?” And that’s when I literally broke down in sobs.

She took me by the hand, led me into the house, had me sit on the sofa next to her, and “unload.” I told her my baby was due any day, my husband was out of town, I had two toddlers, I felt overwhelmed and worried about what I would do if I went into labor. I didn’t know anyone to come help with my children or take me to the hospital. She listened, handing me Kleenexes from the box on the coffee table. Then she announced, “But you’re not alone. I am here, and my whole family is here to help you.”

That day, she stayed for over an hour. After school, she sent her daughter to play with my girls while I unpacked a few more boxes. She gave me her phone number and told me to call if there was anything I needed. And she checked on me every day while my husband was gone. Her presence, her kindness made all the difference. The world looks different when we realize someone cares.

I will never forget those feelings of deep worry nor the relief I felt knowing someone cared and was there to help. I would say they have a lot to do with the way I conduct myself and my constant search for someone who feels adrift and alone. Being there for one another is a gift we can give that costs nothing but means everything.

My husband made it home safely from his course. Our third baby was actually late, so no hospital runs during his absence. And we’d made some friends in the neighborhood and even found a babysitter. Life was good in Beloit.

As we continue our journeys of faith, hope and love, let us be watchful for those who need to know they are not alone on the journey. Let us commit to reaching out, to connecting, to coming to know, and to promising to accompany those most vulnerable that we meet along the way. Let us do so in the name of Christ and our love for Him which spills over into our love for all those whom He died to redeem. And let us never forget that the world looks different when we realize someone cares.

Until tomorrow, let us all love well.