I found out, whilst researching the family tree, that one of my uncles was sent from Wales to a Home for Crippled Boys in Kensington, London. I was close to the area so went to see if the home still existed. Unfortunately, it had been demolished and in its place was an hotel. A couple of years later I was asked to do a favour by driving a friend up to London to take a suitcase to an air stewardess who was delivering it to someone in South Africa ( all above board, I assure you!!) Imagine my surprise when we stopped in front of that same hotel which had once been the Home for Crippled Boys.
That same uncles grandmother, my great grandmother, had lived in Cowbridge, Wales and I visited the cemetery to try to find her headstone. I had been searching for ages and eventually, looking up to the sky I said "please nan help me. Give me a sign". With that, I tripped over part of a grave and landed on the one next door and when I looked at that stone it was hers!!! I wouldn't have found it had I not tripped because I had already passed it and missed it!!!