As M got settled in his new living facility, I had a few occasions to talk with him. I learned that one of his passions was black licorice. Yikes, not my first choice and probably among my last choices. But this is what M loved. I told him that I would bring him some.
The next time I visited him, he was in no condition to eat ANYTHING much less licorice! The time after that he was ever so much better. But, alas, I forgot the licorice. M suitably chastised me. ;-)
Then a series of events began to unfold very quickly through which M was in touch with members of his family from whom he had been distant for the last many many years. And a few days ago they gathered around him, bearing licorice. They knew of his passion for it (despite the lapse of many years)and they brought one pound, I was chagrined that I had forgotten the visit before and brought one pound. I learned of another of M's friends who mailed him two pounds.
A one hundred pound child of God and four pounds of licorice. Seems about right.