Dear Editor: It was raining, and I was alone on my way to my mother’s grave over 30 years ago. She had just been buried two days ago when I stopped in my tracks. I saw a priest standing behind a casket on a grave in the rain, all alone. A priest, a coffin, and no one else. I stopped to show my respect. I remained there for the whole service, standing in the rain. Afterward, Father Zanon asked me if I was family. I said no. I was on my way to my mother’s grave. Father Zanon replied, “I would like to walk with you to your mother’s grave, and bless her.” Who else would walk with me, in the rain, without an umbrella to a grave of someone he did not know. He blessed Mama in the rain, and this was the beginning of a long friendship.
VINCENT J. TOMEO