A Story about Home

The Secret: Part 1

“I’m sorry, Ma’am, your flight is cancelled,” the blonde lady in navy blue looked at my stunned expression sympathetically from behind the airline counter. I was at the Helsinki airport at five a.m. last Friday.

“But they told me yesterday at the ticket office that it was still flying,” I reported inanely, remembering my visit to the office prompted by a sudden strike by Finnair flight crew and the accompanying feeling of panic that I would not make it out of the country the next morning.

I ended up at the ticket office of the airport with dozens of others in a similar plight, distraught and on the brink of tears. A flight to Paris was available, but would cause me miss my connections to Miami and Quito with no guarantee of rebooking. I took the chance, because the thought of getting stranded at the Charles de Gaulle airport was less daunting than the thought of not going home.

Home. I have kept a secret from my mother for six months. You see, she has a birthday marking a half-century of life, and with my dad and sister we concocted the idea to surprise her by showing up on the morning of her birthday and singing to her in our traditional family way. We’ve been working hard to throw her off the scent of our scheming.

“Please, I need to get home tonight,” I told the lady behind the counter in Paris hours later. I wasted no time in getting to the ticket office, praying all the way with a quiet confidence that God had something prepared for me.

“I’m sorry, there is no way you can get to Ecuador tonight.”

“Please, anything, any routing.” I waited with baited breath as she searched.

Not an hour later I was boarding the American Airlines flight to Boston, with a connection to Miami, and a next morning flight to Quito, Ecuador. It was the best she could do, and I was just thankful to know that I would be able to arrive at my final destination.

I arrived so tired I couldn’t even sleep. But as I walked toward the customs gate in Ecuador, I saw my parents and my sister waiting for me beyond the glass walls. My mum was crying. It turns out, she spent the whole day crying from sheer happiness and shock. We succeeded in completely surprising her!!! I think if we had both arrived to sing to her in the morning, she may have had a heart attack, so this way was better!

“I can’t believe this!” is a frequent phrase we have repeated in the last days as we have sat together at coffee or driven around the city. It does seem like a dream. But God is good like that.

(Part 2 still to come...)