Chapter One Page three

With renewed vigour, I walked through the crowded hall towards the baggage claim.  I recognized my sister, Stacie from a long way off.  She had propped herself up against a trash bin.  Stacie’s petite frame was raised up on her tiptoes as her eyes scanned the hallway with intensity.  An image of her and her new husband decked out in their Sunday attire sitting on my living room couch flooded my thoughts.  Has it really been three years since I’ve seen her last?  That won’t win me the ‘best sister’ award.  Thankfully her gracious heart knows how much I love her.  Even though I am certain her quick tongue will take every opportunity to lash me over it.

She continued to search the people even though I was walking right towards her.  I gave a small and indiscreet wave but she was unmoved by it.  Her eyes darted from one weary traveller to another.

As I approached within a couple steps she still hadn’t made the connection.  “Stacie.”  I called out.

Her eyes popped in surprise as she zoomed in on me.  “Wha... Cathie?  What happened to you?”

“Happened?  Nothing.”  I said as my hand rose to smooth my dangling locks. 

It was a tossup which facial feature opened the widest – her eyes or her mouth?  She stuttered through an awkward hug.  “Wow.  Hi Sis.” 

When she released me she kept a few of my long curls in her hand still.  “Your... your hair is down?”

I released my hold on her.  “Yes, it is.  Do I look that bad?”

“No,” she said.  “You know I love your hair.  It never felt fair you got the Runway model hair and then shoved it mercilessly in a ponytail.  Me?  I got the stiff, straight, paper thin mess and have never had the smarts to put it in a ponytail.”  She giggled and then hugged me again.

I have missed her pointed, yet encouraging words.  For all the doubts I am toting around about why I am here, there is one loud and resounding answer.  Stacie.

Then I heard it again in my heart.  I have a plan for you.  I paused a moment to consider where it came from.  Stacie rambled on and on about her new job she started last week.  My ears heard her, yet my heart did not.

Is that you God?  Are you speaking to me?  I haven’t heard Your voice for years.  I thought  You left me the same time that Mitch did.   My head knew it didn’t make sense that God would abandon me, but I couldn’t feel his presence.  Only His silence.

Stacie nudged me hard in the ribs.  “You are tired then.  I don’t think you’ve heard a word I said.”  She laughed sweetly.  “Are you going to wait until that red suitcase makes a few laps before you grab it off the carousel?”

As she spoke I saw the back end of my suitcase travelling farther from me.  Thankfully it will return to me – unlike other things that I thought were mine.

I turned to Stacie and saw the concern dripping from her green eyes.  “I’m a little tired I guess, but I really was listening.”

“Yah?  What did I say?”  Stacie asked.

She always calls me on my attempts to be misleading.  “Um... you were telling me about your new job.”

“I will give you a half point for that one.  But if you weren’t the waking dead I would expect more details than that.”  She turned to her left and mumbled loud enough for me to hear.  “I think the guy on the bench knew that much about our conversation.”

After a minute or two without conversation I felt the nudge in my side again.  It jolted me to my senses.  “Hey!”  I said as I returned to inflict a painful retort to Stacie.  I saw my red suitcase as it rounded the corner and made its approach to me.

By the time I retrieved and readied my suitcase to roll through the airport, Stacie had begun her monologue again.  This time, I caught a few more words from her.  Hungry.  Long drive.  Neale is happy to see me.  

  

Stacie’s husband, Neale, is a native of France.  He is one of the gentlest giants I had ever met.  His voice is soft and his touch is even softer.  Behaviourally, he is not your typical French man. Physically, he represents that dark, strong figure that embraces the cover of many French romance novels.  He is perfect for Stacie, even if he hides her from sight when he wraps his arms around her.  There is one thing I have appreciated about him more than anything else.  It is his ability to temper Stacie’s bravado.

As Stacie and I stepped out the sliding doors of the De Gauille Airport I inhaled a surprising sense of freedom.  Somehow, the air that entered my lungs felt unlike any other breathe I could ever remember taking.  It was unmistakable how the smell of vehicle exhaust marbled with a surge of anticipation.

Maybe it was a good idea to come here. 

Suddenly the words of my bathroom buddy came back to me.  ‘You never know who God plans on you meeting.’  As the thought took root, I fluffed my hair one last time.

My sister and I strolled to the automobile parking lots, both smiling and looking forward to the next week.  Even if for different reasons.

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Chapter One Page Two

The coolness awakened my senses and allowed me to think coherently.  Yes, I remember now.  I am visiting my sister in France.  This is the first trip I’ve ventured out on in years.  Stacie had gently prodded me for years to stop hiding in my job and my home.  She says, now it is time to live again.  Is this what living feels like?

I reached for a paper towel to dry my face.  Burying my fear and insecurities in the towel, I dried away all the moisture.  Both the water drops and the teardrops.  As I hid behind my shield I confessed to God my desperate feelings.  ‘Lord, I need you more today than yesterday.  Or the day before.  Or the day before that.  This is more than I feel ready for.  I know You have a purpose for this trip and a purpose for me.  Will you please help me to see it?  Then Lord, help me to do it.  Use me somehow.’

“Are you alright Dear?”

Her rich English words startled me slightly.  I pulled the paper towel away from my face to see the older woman leaning near to me.  Her eyes were soft pools of grey caressed by her long eyelashes. 

“Sont vous d'accord?”  She spoke again.  This time she tried it in French.

I nodded.  “Yes.  Oui”

A twinkle set into her eyes that made all my anxieties fade.  “I thought you might speak English.  So I tried it first.”

“Yes, I speak English mostly.”  I tossed my towel into the receptacle under the counter.  “But I know French too.”  I wasn’t about to confess to her how it pained me to speak it these last few years.

She nudged my arm.  “Your magazine gave it away.” 

For a moment I did not know what she meant but then I remembered the Reader’s Digest tucked into the vinyl pocket of my travel bag.  I looked at the culprit wondering what else this woman could read about me at a glance.

“Don’t worry Dear.  It is alright to prefer one language over the other. As long as you don’t let your heart forget it. ” She winked a sweet Grandmotherly wink and I felt her reach into my soul.  It felt like she knew me – only I was sure she didn’t.

She reached into her purse and pulled out a long black comb.  She offered it to me.  “I am certain a young available woman like you can’t possibly be travelling alone.”  Her glance down at my hand tore through my chest like a scalpel.

'See God', I sneeredto myself.  'My bare finger is like a neon beacon for all to see.'  I kindly gestured ‘no thank you’ to her offer of a comb and then turned my face to the mirror.

I was a wreck.  Not that I had any reason to be anything else considering my last twenty-four hours.  My hand rushed to my hair and tried to organize the messy mass at the back of my head.

My new-found friend chuckled and offered a new item to save me from myself.  It was a tube of ruby red lipstick.  I tried to envision this proper English woman well into her seventies wearing that particular shade.

“You can’t catch a man looking like that my Dear."  She said with her delightful smile.  "Try this one.  It always worked for me.”  She exaggerated her wink.  "It is a fun, party colour."

How could I explain to her I wasn’t looking for a man?  Would she understand that my life was still trying to recover from the last one?  However, as I gazed at myself in the mirror I heard a gentle breeze of a whisper.  It spoke in a voice that resonated with familiarity to my heart.  I have a plan for you. 

As the words coated my tired and aching heart I felt renewed.  A surge of purpose covered me as I watched my tattered reflection.  Without another thought I released the elastic holding my unruly curls captive and let them tumble down my shoulders.

The woman to my right radiated with a smile of accomplishment.  “Now that is the way you do it Dear.”

I became immune to her penetrating eyes as I primped my hair bringing it back to life.

She nudged the lipstick back in my direction.  “Put this on for the handsome man you must have waiting for you outside.”

“Oh, no thank you.  I do appreciate your offer but it is not my colour.  Besides, I am only meeting my sister.”

For a moment her facial expression dropped as though she were devastated by the news.  Then she perked back up and began searching in her purse again.  “Well, you need something on those ghastly white lips.”  She responded with gusto.

I wasn’t about to shatter her perceptions of the world by confessing that I, personally have never owned a tube of lipstick. Not to mention the fact that other than my wedding day, I have never worn lipstick.  So I lied.  Sort of.

“My sister will have some I could borrow.”

She nodded her head in satisfaction and then we said our brief good-byes.  As I turned to go I felt her hand on my shoulder.  “Be ready for whatever the Good Lord sees fit to put in your path Dear.  You never know who He plans on you meeting.”

She winked a final goodbye and I felt certain she was still fixated on me having a man to drape off of.  However as I walked out of the restroom and turned down the corridor I wrestled with the nagging feeling that there was more to her words of wisdom.  It felt like she knew something that I didn’t.

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Through the Eyes of God - Chapter One Page One

“Excuse me Ma’am?”  A soft voice broke through my tired state.

My eyelids resisted the movement but eventually her pretty round face came within my fuzzy view.

“Sorry to waken you Ma’am but we have arrived at our destination.”

“Destination?”  It took a few seconds to perfectly blend the reality of the moment with my sleepy thoughts.

Her navy tailored suit coat contrasted nicely with her red hair and sharp green eyes. Amidst my haze, her thick, sweet accent pushed again.  “Are you well enough to disembark Dear, or do you require assistance?”

That did it.  I stood quickly to my feet.  “I’m fine.  Thank you.”

As I shifted left to manoeuvre my way through the airline seats, I noticed the other two flight attendants watching my every move with concern.  I must look really bad, I thought as I tried to blink away the sleepy-droop to my eyes.

As I arrived in the aisle, the sweet attendant handed me the last carry-on left in the overhead compartment.  For a moment I remember the decision to purchase the bright ruby red travelling set.  There would be no confusing it with everyone else’s on the luggage carousel. 

Her eyes asked the question that her lips never formed.

“Yes, thank you”, I said, reaching out my free hand.  “That's mine.”

“Thank you for choosing Canadian Continental Air.  Have a fabulous day.”  Her smile widened almost past her facial edges. 

My fuzzy thoughts pondered how much her cheeks must hurt at the end of a shift working here.  Here?  I had to work hard processing the answer to that question.  Where was here exactly?

I remember getting on an airplane in Montreal, but that felt like days ago.  Working my double shifts at the senior’s home usually throws my whole life balance off normally.  Now I’ve added a Transatlantic flight on the end of it which has forced my brain to vacate altogether.

No wonder I have refused my sister’s invitation to visit her in France for three years now.  This is not something I normally do.  As I swagger my way through the airport tunnel, I remember how far out of the norm this really is.

My eyes scanned the glass walled Quonset-style terminal.  People moved in every direction around me as if I wasn’t even there.  My mind was still striving to find answers to my uncertainty.  I slid into a ladies washroom to freshen up and gather all my senses together.

The bathroom was large and well lit, bringing a new shock to my exhaustion.  There was an older woman resting against the countertop.  Her back was to the mirror.  She appeared travel-weary but her smile led me to believe she was alright.  I watched her while I made my way to a sink.  With a motion of my hand, water ran, cool and refreshing into my cupped hands.  Before any other thoughts took over, I splashed the cool water to my face washing away the bewilderment.


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