That you're willing to share, I mean.

Frankly, I'd have a hard time picking one.

My career, my seminary education, and meeting my wife would be near the top of my list.

And it doesn't get any more fundamental to "who I am" than those three things...

My parents deciding at the last minute that we couldn't afford for me to attend Steubenville. I think I would have been lost had I gone there. I remember being so upset, it was the day before Easter and I ran over a rabbit. I can remember crying about it and that I hit the Easter bunny.

It all worked out for the best, certainly. I went to a public university, lived at home, worked, found the True Faith, left to get married, had kids and finished my degree piecemeal--it would have been different had I gone there. Four plus years of NO indoctrination, and the possibility of marrying someone who wanted to limit family size through NFP, plus my plan would have been to work and put my children in public school. I ended up going to a local branch and sorting things out, growing in my Faith and determining the right kind of spouse to pray for and deciding that I would homeschool.

During my immoral youthful days, I was lazily (I almost didn't go but decided to at the last minute) driving to Sunday mass on a busy highway, when my car suddenly died and I was forced to stop in the middle of a 4 lane highway, at the bottom of a hill.  As cars were flying over the hill they had to slam on their brakes to miss me, as I was hidden from view until they were very close.  Multiple times I watched in my rear view mirror, wondering which car was going to kill me.  

Out of nowhere, a jeep pulled up on the side of the highway, with a man and woman in it (both had white hair and the man had a long ponytail).  They pulled out a huge orange flag and started waving it so the cars could avoid hitting me.  Then suddenly a police car showed up to block traffic.  Everything was going in slow motion, almost dream like.  As soon as the cop pulled up, the two people got in their jeep and sped away.  It happened so fast I couldn't even thank them.  I like to think the two people in the jeep were angels.  (If so, then my angel is a hippy.  And I can deal with that.)  I certainly needed help that day and it was definitely a grace.  Deo Gratias!

Meeting my wife.  Without question.

I was taken away from my family and months later ended up getting very sick. I keeping feeling I was going to suffocate on mucus it was such a battle to keep getting it cleared. Someone who came over for who knows what reason saw me and told them to take me to a dr.  A relative of mine was also sick at the same time and went to the same clinic. Unfortunately by that point they was little difference between them and a stranger to me but the relative of course knew it was me.  

When I was first taken he took me everywhere with him. Once I had to wait in a waiting room for him and he left me change to get dinner at the vending machine. I was trying to buy soup but couldn't figure it out the cups. A woman walking by stopped to help me. She was so nice I remember wishing she wouldn't leave and felt so guilty. I remember she had a cross necklace, so I thought she was a Christian too, told her I  liked her cross and she said she was a Sister.. (Which didn't click at the time because I wasn't Catholic but thought nuns looked like nuns from the Sound of Music lol) Anyway she made sure I got my soup before leaving and spent 2 minutes talking to me. It wasn't me getting soup that I believe was Providential but a bright spot of kindness.

I'd prefer not to share, but please know that it was an event that is not possible except for the hand of God.

The blessing of motherhood, without a doubt.

For me, one of the most providential things that has happened was taking a trip to Scotland eleven years ago with my family (sons and husband). I was a Protestant then, and knew nothing about Catholicism. I booked a five-day stay in a farmhouse B&B on one of the Protestant Islands in the Western Isles, since my Gaelic language teacher has said that the Island was very religious, and I wanted to talk to other Christians. Well, as it turned out, folks there didn't really have an interest in discussing religion, and I was disappointed.

But then on our last night's stay in Scotland before heading down to England, we found a B&B in an area near Edinburgh called Newtongrange. It took several hours of hunting for an available room for all of us, since it was during the Fringe Festival, and rooms were scarce. After several hours of searching (we thought we might have to sleep in the car) we were thankful to find a room. The old house was owned by an older couple, and we were invited to have a beer in the garden with the owner. He was quite a character, and we had a delightful conversation. And then he asked about our religion. I can't now recall what we told him, but he said that he was Catholic. He then proceeded to talk about Catholicism in a way that caused me to realize that he truly loved his religion, and was serious about it. He especially talked about the BVM, of whom I knew nothing. He then told us that his home was built on a site of a very old church, and that a few steps of the stairs from the old church were all that was left of it. So he took us to the side of his house and showed us the old stone stairs. And then he did something I'll never forget: he bent down and ran his hand over one of the steps and said..."can you imagine how many feet must have passed over these steps?" Somehow that stuck in my mind, and I thought about it a lot. Finally, someone in Scotland has an interest in talking about religion - and he was a Catholic, of all things! So this, along with seeing a placard of a saint in a shopping mall in Glasgow, is what helped me to look into Catholicism when I got back home.