While visiting a church today, a young man tapped me on the shoulder at the end of the service. How nice, I thought, that someone is going to introduce himself to me. This is a friendly place!
"Excuse me, ma'am," he said. "But I noticed that your tag is still on your blouse. Would you like me to tear it off for you?"
"Why didn't my friend tell me about that?" I asked the stranger, not that he would know why the woman I sat next to in Sunday school had been oblivious to my plight.
The stranger just smiled at me.
"Yes," I said. "Thank you."
After he handed me the tag, we introduced ourselves and made a bit of small talk. Maybe I should wear new clothes more often...
It was just an average Saturday morning back in April 2009 when Kelly Jent's life changed forever. Kelly, a Springfield resident and 33-year-old mother of three, was helping a friend with a yard sale when she suddenly felt the uncontrollable urge to go to the bathroom.
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