"Finding Preet: A Search for the Compassionate Stranger"

I found myself at George Floyd Square, where I had gone to pay my respects at the memorial and extend a warm welcome to other visitors. While there, a passerby pointed out something intriguing, urging me to look in a particular direction. My gaze followed their indication, and a tall and graceful woman stood beside the plants adorned the memorial. She was delicately placing an envelope and a bunch of flowers amidst the plants.

I hurried over, wanting to express my gratitude, but by the time I rounded the corner to where she had been, she had vanished as if into thin air. I couldn't help but think, "Wow, she disappeared astonishingly fast." I questioned my eyesight for a moment, as one moment she was present, and the next, she was gone. Nonetheless, I decided to examine what she had left behind. On the ground, I discovered yellow flowers and a white card bearing the words "George Floyd."

I picked up the beautiful, fragrant flowers and retrieved the card. I carried them to a specific spot within the memorial, where my nephew had tragically lost his life, and carefully arranged the flowers there. As I opened the card, I noticed its front cover featured the words "One life lived, Many lives touched," accompanied by an artistic depiction of four colored boats: one blue, one green, one light green, and one orange. The design held a profound sense of solace.

Upon opening the card, I read the heartfelt message: "Dear George, your loss will be felt by the many hearts they touched. With deepest sympathy." The lady had also penned in elegant cursive, "I pray you have peace now. Your life and death showed us the best of America and the worst of America. Your life mattered beyond measure. I am so sorry this happened to you." Reading those words gave me chills. Her name was Precet.

At that moment, I felt compelled to find this compassionate soul. I left the memorial and searched tirelessly for her, but she vanished. Desperately, I inquired of the person who had initially pointed her out to me, "Did you see where she went?" Thankfully, he responded, "Yes, she's over there!" I rushed towards her and approached her as she came into clear view.

A friend standing nearby mentioned that I was George Floyd's aunt. Overwhelmed with emotion, I said, "I received your letter!" I continued, "I saw the flowers too!" I couldn't help but express how deeply moved I was by her words, particularly, "Your life and death showed us the best of America and the worst of America. Your life mattered beyond measure."

Her name was Preet, and she was from California. And she expressed her joy and honor at our meeting. I, too, was elated to have crossed paths with her. I rarely have the opportunity to witness the visitors place their heartfelt offerings on the memorial. When such moments do occur, it feels like a divine miracle. All I can say is that it's a miracle from God that I got the chance to witness her place her offering on George Floyd's 50th birthday. I thank the Lord for the love shown throughout this journey and for allowing me to connect with this kind-hearted woman before she departed the memorial. Most of all, I'm grateful for the opportunity to convey my heartfelt thanks to her.

Angela Harrelson