One of my clients told me an odd story recently. He had been looking for a home with me for a time, and really liked one we had seen. He was still uncertain so he didn't move on it - there were some drawbacks to it as well, major drawbacks.
He went to a conference on the west coast and was approached by a woman who recognized the company's name for which he worked. They got into conversation and she said she was from Utica, but lived east of Syracuse because she enjoyed the area so much. My client related his search for a home and as it turned out she lived in the same area in which this home he liked was located. Not only that, she had seen the home when she was searching too and considered it as well.
She encouraged my client - and bear in mind, these are two people who are meeting on the west coast (where presumably it's warm and springlike) talking about a specific house east of Syracuse - to pursue the home and work on the major drawbacks. We are doing that right now! Coincidence? I think not!
I took a listing recently and as the talk turned to past lives I explored with the owner where our paths might have crossed. I told him that when I graduated I applied for a certain position in a school district but decided not to pursue it after they called me for an interview. I didn't have teacher certification and wasn't ready to be locked into a career path.
My owner as it turns out, was offered the position and took it, only retiring a few years ago! We believe it was the exact same job, and wonder how our lives would be different if I had taken it and he had gone on to something else. Coincidence? I think not!
As many of my loyal readers know, I was adopted. In 1992 I was privileged to meet and come to know my birthmother. She lived in Binghamton but had grown up in Pennsylvania. Prior to my adoption at 11 months I was in foster care in Marcellus. I only mention this because there was no connection with central New York except that for her.
She passed away in April the following year. I was allowed to go through her belongings - we shared packratting in our genes, I think - and her photos. None in albums, just singles in drawers and boxes, very few with notations. But there among the photos was a lovely one of her standing on the pier in Skaneateles, St. James church in the background. I could tell that the photo was taken in the previous five years when I might have been on the same pier with her. Coincidence? I think not!
As one of the speakers at the RE/MAX convention so eloquently put it: "Coincidence is God's way of staying anonymous."