That woman you see me with is the chambermaid at my Old City Jerusalem hotel. When I left my room this morning, she was in the hallway with her cart.

“May I do your room today?” she asked. “You had the ‘do not disturb’ sign yesterday.”

“Yes, please do,” I said. Then, noticing a small knotted cross necklace around her neck, I said to her, “I like your cross.”

She looked at me with eyes of boundless compassion. It was startling to me. Who is this woman? Then she took it off, and signaled for me to bend down.

“It’s yours,” she said. “It’s my gift from the Holy Land.”

I have not wept once since my wife sent me notice that she had filed for divorce. It’s not because I’m not sad; it’s because I have spent nine years weeping, and I’m out of tears. But when that chambermaid put the cross on me this Good Friday morning, I burst into tears.

She looked a bit afraid.

“Thank you,” I said. “I’m sorry I’m crying. My wife and I are getting a divorce. I just found out last week.”

This happened three hours ago, and as I’m typing this, I’m fighting back tears. The woman looked it me with even more compassion than she had showed a moment earlier. I can’t remember exactly what she said, because I was fighting to control my tears, but I remember the tone in which she said it. It was the sound of the purest mercy, and I tell you, it was balm.

She told me that the Lord will take care of me and my family, not to be afraid.

“What is your name?” I asked her.

“Angela,” she said. “People tell me that I am their angel.”

“They are right,” I said, smiling through tears.

She said, “People tell me things. I take them into my heart, and they never come out.” Angela smiled.

“Angela, I will never forget you,” I said. “You cannot imagine how much I needed to meet you today, and hear your merciful words. Thank you, my sister. Thank you.”

She promised to pray for me, my wife, and our children, then we took the photo you see above. She went back to cleaning rooms in the hotel. I walked out and into the streets to join the Good Friday procession on the Via Dolorosa. But I wasn’t dolorous, because of Angela’s mercy.

Angela the Palestinian Christian chambermaid: Greater faith in all of Israel hath no woman! How many suffering souls passing through Jerusalem must she have showed mercy over the years? What a ministry she has. Just a simple chambermaid who somehow has the charism of seeing into the hearts of troubled travelers. She is one of the living stones of this ancient city. I will cherish her memory all the days of my life.