If there were a Nobel Prize for loving and helping children, it should go to Sue Silverstein, the Art and Theology teacher at Bishop Maginn High School.

I’ve never seen anyone work harder, care more, or be so loving to children, especially those needing support.

Many of their stories are horror stories; refugee children suffer terribly from the cruelty of adults worldwide.

Sue has healed, loved, and supported many of them and helped them lead safe and meaningful lives.

She is one of those people who give everything of herself to others and nothing to herself.

Her glasses are old; she never buys clothes for herself,  her sneakers were in pieces (we got her some new ones) she won’t spend a penny on herself that can go to the needy people around here.

She is the very best of the Catholic narrative.

She also has an old Iphone, an 8, that is falling apart.

Sue desperately needs a newer model of Iphone; she can use it in her art classes, her work, her messaging, her videos, her art, her classes, her research, and her picture taking. I always kid her that the photos she sends me when I can’t be there are grainy.

She accuses me of being a phone snob, which is true. She admits the phone is falling apart, but she always finds some reason to keep it. I’m sure money is an issue also. Catholic school teachers make less money than Amazon warehouse workers by far.

For months this idea has been germinating in my head. I’m going to get her a new Iphone, one way or the other. I can’t think of anyone who is more deserving. And it will help the refugees as well, she will be able to do more for them.

Even her students nag her about getting a new Iphone.

So this week, I decided to buy an Iphone 12 for her. I would pay for most of it – two-thirds and a generous donor sent me a check for Bishop Maginn and suggested I buy something for Sue, who she has come to know, love, and admire.

She said that would make a perfect gift for her and approved my using her donation in that way.

It was a lot of money, but Sue is worth every penny. And I knew she would hate the idea. When I make up my mind to do something, Maria says it’s like a big train rolling down the tracks.

I called her son, who loved the idea, I researched the best phone for her (I even talked with two of her students, who loved the idea) , and settled on the Iphone 12.

I went to an Att&T story yesterday – the plan was to buy it and give it to her today when I came to Albany –  and I was told all of their phones were sold out, and there was a waiting line to get into the store at all, and would I place give my name and wait outside in my car.

Since Maria had driven off to do some errands – we never imagined I’d get thrown out of the store trying to buy an I phone – I didn’t have a car, so I waited out in the cold (they didn’t care) until she was done and came back to contact me. (That will be my last trip to an AT&T store.) I see the company is getting in sync with the grumpy national mood.

They said they’d call my name in an hour or so and come outside looking for me if I was still there. (Or still breathing.)

I left and decided to go to the Apple Store online, that’s where I buy my Iphone’s and I’ve never had a problem. And I never had to wait at any point in the process.

I chose the phone, ordered 256 gigs of memory, picked purple,  bought several years of Apple Care, and was ready to hit the buy button when I noticed a message saying the phone would be delivered tomorrow (today). Apple seemed to have plenty.

I even arranged for immediate tech support so she could transfer her data get it up and running.

But I wouldn’t be home to sign for it.

I was excited. I was going to surprise Sue; I know she would protest and argue to keep me from getting it; I was determined, her son agreed with me. But wouldn’t it be great if it was waiting for her when she got home?

I paused, knowing I would be in Albany all day today visiting Sue and the school. So I decided to wait until after six, but first, spill the beans and ask her if she or anyone in her family might be home today to receive the phone; a signature was required. I wanted her to get it the day Maria and I came to visit the school.

If I waited until after 6 p.m. to order it, it would come on Thursday, and the signature wouldn’t be a problem. So I just told her I had bought it and it was too late to cancel the order (that was not true.)

Sue was horrified at the thought I would spend this much money on her when the refugees needed so many things. She always thinks in that way when anything is for her, even a dinner out.

But I was paying for most of it, I said, a donor wanted me to get a gift for her. It wasn’t taking anythig from the refugees.

Also, she needed the phone, she works so hard, and it would help her in many ways. I knew I had to hang in there.

We went back and forth for half an hour. I wouldn’t budge. I said the Blessed Mother, who Sue worships, wanted me to do this. Jesus would probably agree, I added. That always slows her down.

Maria and Sue always team up when I’m being obstinate and smack me around together. Sue loves to beat up on me with Maria on the phone.

I loved returning the favor. Sue would fight with me all day, but she hated to disagree with Maria. She backed me up.

I was sticking to my guns. This slowed her down a bit and Maria jumped into the fray and backed me up. Sue loves Maria and respects her and was wavering and so I got off the phone. It was decided it would soon be sealed. I felt so good about this.

At 6:10, I was literally and truthfully about to put my forefinger on the “buy” button when the phone rang.

It was Sue. Don’t be mad at me, she said, but her daughter Tara had called minutes ago, and when Sue told her the news about my giving her an Iphone, Tara was shocked and said she had arranged to get her mother a free Iphone  12 as part of a Verizon deal to draw new customers. It was going to be a Thanksgiving surprise.

Sue and Tara had signed up for identity protection together after a hacking, and so the two had to be together to get the phone. It would cost nothing.

I know Sue, and she can’t lie. I wasn’t going to get her an Iphone 12, but miraculously, she was going to get one for free. There was nothing wrong with that.

I was not only not angry, but I was delighted for her and good for her daughter, who had been nagging  Sue for years to get a newer phone.

Of course, I didn’t mind. It was perfect.

I was also delighted for myself.

Sue would get her to wish, and all of the money would go (and has) to get more supplies for the refugees as she requested.

Everyone was a winner. I had done a good deed and didn’t even have to pay for it. And I love buying supplies for the refugees. I’ll get Sue something else for Christmas, perhaps a gift certificate for some new clothes, or an easel. She is a very gifted artist.

I couldn’t get over how it had all played. I had my finger hovering over the “buy” button when she called. I think Sue was right; I believe the Blessed Mother was watching over us and wanted Sue to get a new phone in a way that would make everyone involved happy.

Sue deserves that.

Sue has no qualms about getting a free phone, and I know it will make a huge difference in her daily life and work.

Life is mysterious and unpredictable, but I often do get the idea something bigger than me is watching over things. I love the story of Sue’s Iphone 12. And I know she is close to the Blessed Mother.

Now I can stop razzing her about her lousy pictures and aging phone. Think of the new photos I can put up on the blog.