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“First class this way,” said the Czech porter. Having made our way through the short tunnels, we stood on the platform at track 4, looking at the picture of about fifteen numbered trains. We could have been trying to determine which train was ours. However, we knew which train; we just wanted to locate the 1st Class car number. As we stood there, backs to the stairway, a porter was bringing baggage and escorting some people to the track. He never said hello, he never asked a question. He spoke to our backs as he passed. “First Class this way,” he said, pointing to the far end of the platform. We thanked him, gathered our bags, and started walking. The porter and his group stopped about half way down the platform. “There,” he said, as he pointed to our location a little farther down. How did he know? Surely, we didn’t look 1st Class in our dress. He could have asked us if we were on the right platform, or if we knew which train number to board, but he didn’t. “God sent us another angel,” Donna said.
As we sat down on our
bench, 7 year old Richard sat there for “Donna, how do you know he is an angel?” he asked. Donna explained he was not actually an angel, but someone God sent to help us. She related a few other instances where people have walked up to us, in an otherwise unexplainable situation, and given us information they could not have possibly known we needed. It happens every trip…more than once. Indeed this was valuable information. Not simply so we would know where we were supposed to be, but in Europe, timing is everything with trains. I have to get our luggage on the train, as well as all of us, in less than 5 minutes. At major stops, you have 5-10 minutes before the train moves. At smaller towns, you literally have as little as 30-45 seconds before it moves. As we traveled through the Czech country-side and through the mountains, along the river, we sat there enjoying the beauty. Believe it or not, it is far more beautiful than a trip through Southeast Texas. We were heading back to Frankfurt for our flights to Moscow the next day.
As they stood in the crowded line at the Lufthansa counter, a Luft rep walked up to them and asked, “Where are you flying to?” “Moscow,” Stephanie said. “You are in the wrong line. You need to be over there.” She pointed to the other end of the terminal. “She’s an angel! God send her to help us!” Richard blurted out, excitedly. The lady just beamed. Then she turned a walked away from the crowd. She spoke to no one in line before speaking to them. She spoke to no one else after. She walked directly to the Blackstones, asked her question, gave her information, and then turned and walked away from the crowd. Why did she walk up to the Blackstones and no one else? How did she know?
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a minute looking at the angel,
waiting for him to disappear or fly away.
Donna and I left early
for our Air France flight. Stephanie, Bob, and Richard had a late morning
flight. Late is the key word. Their hotel shuttle was not only late, he
dropped them at the wrong side of the Lufthansa terminal.