LONG BEACH, N.Y. - The text from Sister Diane at St. Ignatius Martyr Church was as odd as it was urgent: "A man is going to call. You must answer the phone."
Kerry Ann Troy had just finished her daily "cry time" - that half-hour between dropping the kids off at school and driving back to her gutted house on New York's Long Island, or to the hurricane relief center, or to wherever she was headed in those desperate days after Sandy, when life seemed an endless blur of hopelessness and worry.
After spending the first week with relatives in Connecticut, Troy, a part-time events planner for the city, and her husband, Chris, a firefighter, had managed to find a hotel room for a week in Garden City. The couple had no idea where they and their three children - Katie, 4, Connor, 12, and Ryan, 13 - would go next. Hotels were full. Rentals were gone. Their modest raised ranch house, a few blocks from the beach, was unlivable.
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But the Troys faced another problem.
The family had been looking forward to a weeklong, post-Thanksgiving trip to Disney World, paid for by the Make-a-Wish-Foundation to benefit Connor, who suffers from a life-threatening neuromuscular disease. He had lost one wheelchair to the storm. His oxygen equipment and other medical supplies were damaged by water. He was disoriented and confused.
How could they tell their sick child that the storm that had disrupted his life might also cost him his dream - to meet Kermit the Frog?
Yet Chris Troy felt he couldn't leave. And Kerry Ann said she wouldn't go without him.
And then - in the space of a few hours - everything changed.
A school administrator pulled Kerry Ann aside when she went to pick up Katie. She told her of a vacant summer home - a spacious, fully furnished, three-bedroom house in nearby Point Lookout, which the owners wished to donate to a displaced family. The Troys could live there indefinitely, at no cost, while they sorted out their lives.
Kerry Ann could hardly believe their good fortune. The kids could stay in their schools. The family could go to Florida after all.
But that was only the beginning.
The stranger whom Sister Diane had texted her about earlier had left a message.
His name was Donald. He wanted to meet the Troys. He wanted to help.
At St. Ignatius Martyr, offers of help began pouring in as soon as the storm waters receded: spaghetti dinner fundraisers, fat checks from churches in North Carolina and Texas, smaller donations from nearby parishes.
For weeks the church had no power, heat or working phones. Masses were held in the school gym. Monsignor Donald Beckmann, scrambling to help his displaced parishioners, was a hard man to track down.
But Donald Denihan, a 51-year-old businessman from Massapequa, managed to find him. He wanted to see the devastation firsthand. And he wanted to help one family rebuild. He would pay for everything, from demolition costs to new paint. He just wanted to make sure he found the right family, perhaps someone elderly, perhaps someone with a disability.
Over the phone he asked Beckmann: "Will you help me choose?"
A reason for living
After surviving three near-death experiences - a duck-shooting accident at 16, prostate cancer at 36 and a serious boating accident in 2011 - Denihan had concluded there was a reason God wanted him around.
And so Denihan, who had made his money in hotel and real estate investments, had set up a fund. He called it God Is Good. Until now, he wasn't sure how he would use it.
In the end, he decided to help two families - including the Troys.
Nothing had prepared Chris Troy for the sight of his home when he returned two days after the storm. The basement - including his beautifully finished wooden bar, Kerry Ann's office space, the kids' playroom, the laundry and boiler room - were dank and foul-smelling, and mold was already growing. The water had reached to the ceiling, seeping into the living room, kitchen and bedrooms upstairs.
Troy prides himself on his stoicism, on being able to cope with anything. But a few hours passed before he could bring himself to break the news to his family.
"The house is a mess, and Daddy will fix it," he told Katie, who burst into tears when she heard her toys were gone. "And the toys you lost you will get back at Christmas."
In reality, he didn't know how the family was going to cope or where they would spend Christmas. Insurance wouldn't cover the basement area. He couldn't afford to pay for repairs himself. And though friends and volunteers offered to help, most could spare only a few hours because they were so busy dealing with damage to their own homes.
"We were in a tough situation," Chris said.
So they gladly agreed to meet with Denihan. Perhaps he would offer to pay for a generator, Chris thought. That would be nice.
Denihan showed up with a contractor. He walked through the house. He talked to the children. He seemed kind and matter-of-fact and purposeful.
"I'll take care of everything"
Standing on their front porch in the chilly morning sun, Denihan made a promise. He would rebuild their home. They could make any alterations they wanted, like installing a wheelchair-accessible shower and central air, something the Troys had dreamed of, because Connor's disease causes him to overheat.
"I'll take care of everything," Denihan said. "And we'll start first thing tomorrow."
It was a few days before Thanksgiving and the Troys, distracted by the move to the borrowed house and their upcoming trip to Florida, didn't fully comprehend. What exactly did he mean by "everything"?
It wasn't until a moving van trundled up the next morning and workers carted off their remaining belongings and started tearing down walls, and Denihan told Kerry Ann to start picking out paint colors and tile, that the enormity of it began to sink in.
"This stranger walks into our lives and offers not just to rebuild our home, but to build us a better home," Kerry Ann said. "And another family lends us their home. It's absolutely a miracle."
How do you repay this?
The trip to Disney World was the best of their lives. Connor had never been happier, bright and alert and grinning from ear to ear as he met the Magic Kingdom characters - Mickey and Woody and the Minions and, of course, Kermit. He went on carousel rides specially rigged for wheelchairs, splashed in the pool in his water chair and ate ice cream all day long.
Back home, they find themselves agonizing over Denihan's generosity, sure of their gratitude but unsure how to process it.
"How do you thank someone for giving you back your home and your life?" Chris asks. "What do I do ... give him a child?"
Denihan isn't looking for thanks - and he has his own children. He said he just feels blessed to be in a position to help, and grateful that others are pitching in, too. His contractors - plumber, electrician and builder - have offered to do the work either for free or at cost.
Perhaps, he says, others will hear the story and step up to help more Sandy victims in the same way.
Two months after Sandy destroyed their home and disrupted their lives, the Troys have hope. And plans.
They have Christmas. They were looking forward Monday to throwing a party at their sparkling new house on Minnesota Avenue.
And they planned to celebrate a special Mass at St. Ignatius Martyr to give thanks for surviving the storm - and for the miracle that happened after, when strangers walked into their lives and gave them back their home.
"How do you thank someone for giving you back your home and your life? What do I do ... give him a child?"
Chris Troy
