In all the rush, I forgot my brain

Here's the scenario:

Sunday morning.  I am running late for church.  Come bounding down the stairs with my scriptures in hand.  Husband and baby are patiently waiting outside.  I put my scriptures on top the car, and put baby in the car.  I get in the car.  We drive to church.  It isn't until we are at church that I remember why I can't find my scriptures.  We go in, husband and mother-in-law have a pow-wow and determine to leave part way through the meeting to go looking for lost scriptures.  They come back...empty-handed.  No luck, they looked everywhere.  The meeting ends and I am feeling incredibly stupid and sad for my carelessness.  Someone taps me on the shoulder, and hands me my scriptures, with hardly a scratch or speck of dust!  It turns out that this family lives in the same neighborhood as us, and they were running slightly more tardy than we were.  They came out of the neighborhood, turned onto the frontage road and were approaching the first stoplight when they spotted a set of scriptures in the middle of the road.  So, they did what any scripture-rescuing Good Samaritan family might do--they pulled a quick U-turn, and elected their eldest son to dodge traffic and nab the lost scriptures.  

So, it helps to have Mormon neighbors.  And God is in the details, and He is exceedingly merciful.  And I am very, very grateful.