I also wonder why people waste time consulting horoscopes. In fact, many years ago—and I cringe at the very memory!—I was actually paid to write the ones that, together with a "lucky stone," were included in cans of coffee as a sales promotion.
Wishing is Such a Futile Exercise!
It's like trying to phone somebody who doesn't have a telephone. Now praying is another thing altogether. It works! "Seek and ye shall find...ask and ye shall receive..." That, indeed, is another thing.
The Man With the Yellow Rolls-Royce
Rather than "lucky," I prefer to say "blessed." In my vocabulary there are no such words as "luck" or "coincidence." I have lived long enough now not to believe in either. Nor do I believe in "ships passing in the night." I think that makes God too small. I believe that God is bigger than mere chance and I believe that we meet, and things happen, by Divine Intervention. I agree that sometimes people one meets only briefly, inexplicably come along again some day, even if just in our memories and in certain circumstances, and then become part of our lives.
Although the climate and the altitude may have been hard on my father, our little town with its pure, clean air was a haven for British ex-servicemen who had been gassed or otherwise affected by the vicissitudes of WWI, and many came to try and recuperate there.
One of them became a local legend. He was blinded and had lost his hearing, and, having been a shareholder (?) of the company was provided with every new model Rolls Royce that came on the market. The one I remember was as impressive as the yellow one I later saw in an Ingrid Bergman movie, and he had a chauffeur to drive him, but his life must have been a living hell. He stayed in our local hotel and, because he was still weak, and often breathless, a chair was left on the landing between the two floors, so that he could rest halfway, and he soon became accustomed to subsiding onto it on his way down to breakfast. My father usually had us pray for him as many others in the town were doing.