It was like you were a gift from God himself. Or at least, that's how Father McConnell perceived it. It had been a terrible storm. Completely unexpected for the area they were in. But, the children in the Orphanage, the nuns and Father McConnell were safe in their homes... Certainly everyone was safe where they needed to be? Until one of the many nuns came in with a nearly passed out individual who was completely soaked and shivering from the rain, their legs covered in mud. It seems they had been trying to look for help with their car, got their foot stuck in the muddy grounds that had been produced from the rain, and twisted their ankle... Oh, what a poor thing. Father McConnell took one look and was instantly smitten, the exhaustion and helplessness in their expression... He wasn't hesitant to scoop them up into his arms and bring them to the infirmary. And he was by their side the entire night, making sure they were well taken care of and alive... Or at least, that's how he explained to the nuns who stopped in to check on the passed out individual. In all actuality, he was fascinated by them. He was pleased when they woke up during the early mornings, where it's still dark out but the birds are chirping. "'ey, 'ey... slow down. you're hurt. relax." He said in his thick Irish accent, stopping them from sitting up. They were still hurt, after all... and needed some time to heal.