We recently attended a funeral in Pennsylvania at the church where we were members years ago. As we drove there, I went over in my mind the few friends I might see. It was a short list due to deaths, moves, and time gone by. Who might come up to me that I didn’t remember? I hoped not to be too embarrassed, but after more than 40 years, chances were that could happen.

When we arrived, I spotted a couple we’ve kept in contact with over the years—she grew up in my community and sang at our wedding. Both of them were in Botswana with us—multiple connections. We sat with them and my friend pointed out several other people I had known. The service began and my focus shifted to the present. A number of people shared remembrances, and we sang hymns. Then the pastor got up to speak. His last name told me that he probably wasn’t from the Mennonite community, and I wondered vaguely who he was and how he came to be there.

What kept me curious about him? I’m not sure. His first name was the same as that of my son Geoffrey’s best friend when we lived there. Geoffrey had been heart-broken to leave him when we moved at the end of his third-grade year. This friend was not part of the Mennonite community, their only connection being public school. This man’s name was not an unusual one, and besides he looked too young to be the same age as Geoffrey. I dismissed my wondering as a way-too-big stretch, just one of my impossible, “what if” daydreams.

Nevertheless, something kept niggling in my brain. After the service, I asked a friend whether the pastor came from this community, and she said yes. When I had a moment to myself, I looked up the pastor’s name on the internet and found him almost right away. The site said he was born in the same year as Geoffrey. My curiosity moved into tentative hope. What were the chances?

I had to wait until the meal that followed the service. When the pastor came into the room after the private family burial, I paused my lunch and went to speak to him. “I have a question,” I said, feeling like I was taking a risk with this stranger. “Did you go to ______ Elementary School?”

“Yes,” he replied, matter-of-factly, looking perhaps a bit puzzled.

“Did you have a good friend named Geoffrey Kurtz?”

His face broke into a surprised smile. “Geoffrey Kurtz!” he almost shouted. “Yes!”

“I’m Kathie Kurtz, his mother,”

The pastor’s enthusiasm felt like a bear hug, although I’m quite sure we didn’t actually hug. However, our conversation felt like such a brilliant moment of joyful astonishment that I can’t remember clearly. I do know that his wife said that she’d heard about Geoffrey. We talked briefly and the pastor went to his office to get me his business card. His wife took our picture, which I immediately sent to Geoffrey, asking him to guess who. (He couldn’t)

I moved through the rest of the meal in a blaze of happiness and amazement. As soon as I got home, I called Geoffrey who expressed as much amazement and joy as I felt. I passed on to him his long-lost friend’s contact information, completing my part of this connection.

My mind keeps going back to those moments of discovery, the point where a lost connection was reconnected. That it seemed unlikely but turned out to be so; that it was unexpected; that it was a gift—all these contributed to our joy.

The memory of it makes me happy, but for some reason I doubted that it was a story others might find interesting. However, when I told one friend and then another about it, their eyes lit up. They got it—the surprise in finding a lost friend, the joy in reconnection. It brought to mind experiences of their own.

I wish I had some profound insight to offer on the meaning and value of human connection, the surprising ways paths cross and recross. I don’t, but I will keep pondering, wondering about the how’s and why’s. Not understanding it will not keep me from valuing these gifts. I feel happy all over again when I remember those first moments of surprise. That tells me they hold value and power, something each of us needs in these uncertain times. I hold that “new” connection close, with joy and deep gratitude.