I am constantly amazed and touched by people. The kindness of strangers that can be shown in the most unexpected ways. I should start at the beginning.
Running behind schedule, I did not have time to acquire food for the sixteen-hour train ride home. The train has a cafe car, but it is ridiculously expensive and not very good. But in a pinch, I knew I could stomach a sandwich if absolutely needed. A stop at a local gas station, gave me a bag of peanut M’Ms, pizza pretzel rolls and a small package of Oreos. Not exactly great fare, but something at least. I slept on and off, never able to get really comfortable. My knee was hurting and I had no pain medication to stave off the throbbing. In Syracuse, my seat mate left and I hoped to have some room to stretch out for the last two hours. Fortunately, this was not the case. A little old woman had boarded and was looking for a seat. Catching her eye, I motioned to the empty seat next to me and relief flooded her face. I lifted her small suitcase into the overhead which was far above her head. She was a chatty little lady, but very sweet. Her name was Phyllis and she was going to visit her daughter outside of Albany. We chatted away, and the time passed quicker than I could have hoped. I was beginning to hear my stomach rumble, but decided just to wait until Albany, where I was changing trains and had time to get some food. It would be a little better, and not nearly as expensive! Unfortunately my stomach did not agree with my plan and began to cramp. As I waited for an appropriate break in the conversation to excuse myself to the dining car, Phyllis said she needed to use the restroom, and would I mind watching her things. Perfect! She could go the bathroom and when she returned, I would go to the cafe. The announcement from the conductor, closing the cafe car, changed that plan. I would just have to suffer until Albany - only 90 minutes or so. Yett God provides. Phyllis returned and immediately offered half of the sandwich she had brought with her. It was a thick biscuit piled with turkey, ham and cheese. She apologized for how little she had, but like the story of the fishes and loaves, it ended up being more than enough. It sustained me until long after I got home to dinner.
Here is the second kindness. In Elkhart, the train station is tiny and there is no platform which rises up to met the train. Passengers must lug their suitcases onto the tiny step and heave themselves and their bags up onto the train. I had a backpack, which was loaded down with books, my suitcase and my instrument case. I nearly fell backwards off the train on my first few attempts. Thankfully, the platform in Albany was level with the door of the train and I could just drag my suitcase off the train and onto to platform. It is the same in Poughkeepsie. The first Christmas surprise met me in Albany, in the guise of my father appearing in the train station in front of me. I had expected him to meet me in Poughkeepsie, but he had taken a train up to Albany to surprise me. It was a lovely surprise and I was overjoyed to see him. Not to mention he took over lugging my heavy suitcase! Now on my return trip, my suitcase was even heavier, as it was loaded with the new clothes and books of Christmas. Still, the only station without a platform would be Elkhart and I would be getting off, not on. So I did not concern myself with how I would get the suitcase onto the train. Unfortunately, the train in Albany was extremely long, and my entrance was off the platform area. I would have to somehow lift my suitcase onto the train. Hopefully the conductor might be willing to help me lift the bag. As I walked to the door, the man next to me struck up the typical train conversation - where are you going, where are you coming from, etc. He had grown up across the river from my hometown and had played my high school in track and football, about the same time of my father. We neared the door and I saw the slight conductor standing next to the door. The bag was surely heavier than he! My heart sunk and my muscles began to scream as they anticipated the strain about to come. I had already lifted the suitcase into an overhead on the train to Albany. I greatly doubted I would be able to lift it again up the five steep and narrow steps onto the train. Again, God provided. As I handed my ticket to the conductor, my new friend put his own bags down and motioned me onto the train. “I’ll lift your suitcase up to you. Go on. I’ll get it all the way up there.” My back screamed as I heaved myself, my instrument and backpack up the steep steps. I knew there was no way I could have lifted the suitcase, even with assistance.
These random acts of kindness uplift my spirit in a way nothing else could have. The kindness of two strangers rejuvenated me more than any Christmas present I could have received. In the midst of the commercialized Christmas rush, I often forgot how God provides. He sent his Son to provide us with salvation. He sent those strangers to remind me that he continues to provide, in his own way and his own time.
Beannachd leat.
