Miriam
God gave me two gifts this week: conversation and friendship in the least likely places with two different young women.
After spending an entire day at the Chicago airport on Tuesday, the end was in sight, and I was certainly ready for it. The airport was crowded all day, and I was exhausted, mostly from the constant movement and noise all around, as well as several long walks around the airport hunting for a quiet place to wait. But now that my flight was within the hour (or so I thought before it got delayed another hour), I was willing to sit with the crowd at my gate.
I had barely gotten settled when a young lady asked if the seat next to me was free. Maybe it was just the friendly way she asked, but maybe it was also wanting to take on the "challenge" of talking to someone at the airport, since I had been hoping all day for something out of the ordinary to redeem the day. But more than that, I think I wanted to talk with her because she was different than me. She wore a light linen "robe" (I'm not sure what to call it) and a beautifully embroidered scarf wrapped around her head. Although I have become quite familiar with seeing Muslim women with their hijabs in Maryland, I don't always have an excuse to talk with them.
So I asked her if she was going to Baltimore. She told me she was going to Minneapolis, which apparently was the flight leaving before Baltimore at the same gate. And that was all it took! We chatted like besties for the next 45 minutes or so about all kinds of things. She was Canadian, but her husband was American, and doing his residency in Chicago for the next three years. She was there looking for an apartment so she and her 7 month-old son (and another on the way!) could be together with her husband. Her mother-in-law lived in Minneapolis, and that is where she was waiting until they could find an apartment.
I really am not sure why we hit it off so well, but even in matters of religion, we found common ground as we talked easily about God here and there throughout the conversation. Her family came from Somalia originally, and she wished she could have the heart to go back to that part of the world or other areas in need, but felt that she was not strong enough to face the pain of all that she would see. I could relate. That's one big reason I didn't stick with counseling, as much as I wanted to help people.
Before she left, she introduced herself as Miriam, and I told her my name. I wished her well with her apartment-hunting and life in Chicago, and she wished me well with my long-awaited flight. When she left, I thought about how I wished she lived in my neighborhood. I think she would be fun to hang out with.
After spending an entire day at the Chicago airport on Tuesday, the end was in sight, and I was certainly ready for it. The airport was crowded all day, and I was exhausted, mostly from the constant movement and noise all around, as well as several long walks around the airport hunting for a quiet place to wait. But now that my flight was within the hour (or so I thought before it got delayed another hour), I was willing to sit with the crowd at my gate.
I had barely gotten settled when a young lady asked if the seat next to me was free. Maybe it was just the friendly way she asked, but maybe it was also wanting to take on the "challenge" of talking to someone at the airport, since I had been hoping all day for something out of the ordinary to redeem the day. But more than that, I think I wanted to talk with her because she was different than me. She wore a light linen "robe" (I'm not sure what to call it) and a beautifully embroidered scarf wrapped around her head. Although I have become quite familiar with seeing Muslim women with their hijabs in Maryland, I don't always have an excuse to talk with them.
So I asked her if she was going to Baltimore. She told me she was going to Minneapolis, which apparently was the flight leaving before Baltimore at the same gate. And that was all it took! We chatted like besties for the next 45 minutes or so about all kinds of things. She was Canadian, but her husband was American, and doing his residency in Chicago for the next three years. She was there looking for an apartment so she and her 7 month-old son (and another on the way!) could be together with her husband. Her mother-in-law lived in Minneapolis, and that is where she was waiting until they could find an apartment.
I really am not sure why we hit it off so well, but even in matters of religion, we found common ground as we talked easily about God here and there throughout the conversation. Her family came from Somalia originally, and she wished she could have the heart to go back to that part of the world or other areas in need, but felt that she was not strong enough to face the pain of all that she would see. I could relate. That's one big reason I didn't stick with counseling, as much as I wanted to help people.
Before she left, she introduced herself as Miriam, and I told her my name. I wished her well with her apartment-hunting and life in Chicago, and she wished me well with my long-awaited flight. When she left, I thought about how I wished she lived in my neighborhood. I think she would be fun to hang out with.
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