The doorbell rang unexpectedly tonight. I wasn’t anticipating anyone. 

I went to answer it and got quite a wonderful gift.

Outside my front door stood a lovely, petite woman with bright blue eyes. She wore designer glasses, hoop earrings and turquoise Nikes. Her hair was a medium blond with just hints of gray here and there. She was a stranger; but not for long.

Within moments, she’d introduced herself as Alice, the friend I’ve corresponded with via mail sent the old-fashioned way. Alice reads my column in a newspaper in Ohio and she’s taken the time to write me and send cards on numerous occasions. I return the favor.

We’ve become pen pal friends. Until tonight. Tonight we became real friends because she showed up on my doorstep to say, “Hi,” and I quickly realized her mind and outlook are as bright as her eyes. 

Did mention Alice is 98? We’d never met. She didn’t know where I lived. She just had the return address from a card I’d sent. She happened to be on vacation in Florida and decided to go out of her way to find me. (And Florida is not a small state.)

Alice no longer drives, so her daughter served as chauffeur for this visit. But it was Alice, alone, who navigated the two steps to reach my front door. It was Alice, alone, who rang the doorbell and greeted me when I answered. She may be small in stature, but her presence is anything but. 

We sat on my front porch with her daughter and chatted. They couldn’t stay long because they were on their way to a different destination. I was a pit stop, and glad to be one.

I am in awe and wonder that Alice decided she wanted to meet me in person and then made it happen. She is 98 and teaching me things every time we cross paths. She is brave and alive in ways that many people many years younger could only hope to be. It brings tears to my eyes.

Today she wondered aloud why she is still here on earth. I tried to tell her, “Alice, you are teaching us all so many things.” I hope she heard. 

Today Alice taught me there are items on my bucket list that I haven’t even thought of. Meeting her was definitely one of them. I wish she could have stayed longer. I wish I could have asked her questions and listened to her answers for hours. Her visit was one of those moments in life that we don’t always realize are magic until they are all but over. 

This one I realized. 

Stop by anytime you are in the neighborhood, Alice. (And your daughter, Pat, too.) My door is always open. Next time I’ll put on a pot of coffee or a kettle for tea and maybe you can stay just a little bit longer. I’d like that. 

No, I’d love that.

Sometimes angels arrive in our lives with their wings spread wide. Other times they step up onto our front porch wearing turquoise Nikes.

I met my friend, Alice, today. She is 98 years young and I’m so glad to know her.

(A big thanks to Alice’s daughter, Pat, for making this visit possible! Big hugs to you both.)

— Jill Pertler’s column Slices of Life appears regularly in the Times. She can be reached at 

slicescolumn@gmail.com.