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Reader submission from Julia Link

Perhaps you've seen my polka-dotted car around town. It is the only one, to my knowledge. Saturday evening I left my apartment and was looking and looking for my car in the lot...funny I only saw this very plain and normal Toyota staring sadly back at me.

Shockingly, after roughly four years of polka-dotted bliss, someone stole all the polka dot magnets off my car; every last one. I was mad and heartbroken. However, my self expression can be cracked, but refuses to be broken! No one has ever driven to Party City with such a fury.

I purchased an arsenal of car window paint, a huge blue bow, strings of blue beads, a blue beach ball and balloons as attempted replacements for my beloved blue dots. My self-expression will not be stopped, and if the body of my car can't have exquisite hand-cut dot magnets (as they'll surely be taken off again if replaced), then my windows will have blue painted polka dots.

However, I thought I'd better snap some pictures before Mother Nature -- or the perps -- clean the newly painted dots from my naked, less-dotted car. I just thought I'd share this semi-tragedy and subsequent attempt at self expression-redemption with any dot-car (or polka dot) fans out there. Oh, and if you see any blue or white polka dots around town, call the (dot)cops or contact me.

Signed,

Triad's Dot-Car Girl

Submitted by reader Betty Holland

I so enjoyed your article "Christmas Coincidence -- Something to Cherish" in the Triad Diary appearing in your paper on Dec 28.

Something similar happened to a friend and me in 2005. My brother and his wife were serving as missionaries in Trinidad. We went for a visit. My friend, Pamela, was a member of mine and my brother's home church. We arrived on Saturday and were up bright and early on Sunday to attend the local church service where my brother and sister-in-law went.

Upon entering, one of the young girls was passing out hymnals. She stopped in front of each of us and handed us one personally. Pamela opened hers to the front and immediately was unable to speak, but sat pointing to the book plaque in front of the hymnal.

It was noted as being given to her home church by her parents in memory of her grandparents, all of which are now deceased. She was so surprised that she took out her camera so I could take a picture of her holding the hymnal showing the inscription. It turns out, a few years before, the church bought new hymnals and packed up the old ones and shipped them to Trinidad to be distributed by my brother to the local churches.

We could not believe what happened, especially since the books were handed out individually and not passed along the pew.

We all decided it was truly "a God thing," which also made that service, in a little church in Trinidad, miles away from home, special to us also.

Coincidences do happen, whether at Christmas, or in October in tropical Trinidad.