Christy Miller Collection Vol 4 Part 41

After eating half her sandwich and two of her carrot sticks, Christy put away her lunch, deciding to save the rest for later. It was the middle of the night, and she desperately needed some sleep.

Turning off the light, she thought of one of the evening verses Dr. Benson had quoted, "I will lie down and sleep in peace, for you alone, O LORD, make me dwell in safety."

"Amen," she whispered, and she fell into a deep sleep.

But not for long.

Suddenly the door of Christy's compartment flew open, and a rough, coa.r.s.e voice blared into the darkness.

"Who's there?" Christy called out, sitting up in bed.

The overhead light flipped on, temporarily blinding her with its flash.

"What do you want?" Christy demanded of the gruff, smelly, obviously drunk man who had entered her compartment. "Get out of here!" she yelled. "I mean it! Get out of here right now, or I'll scream."

The confused man stumbled farther into her room, and the door slid shut behind him. As it did, Christy let out the loudest scream she could.

The man covered his ears but didn't move. Christy screamed again, then drew in a deeper breath and screamed again. The door slid open, and two conductors and three pa.s.sengers all crammed inside, grabbing the man by the arm and ushering him out as quickly as he had found his way in.

The conductor who had helped Christy find her room now stood beside her and in a soothing voice spoke to her in French. She scrambled to remember the word for "thank you" and hoa.r.s.ely told the conductor, "Merci."

He kept talking and pointed to her door. She thought at first he wanted her to leave, and she began to get out of bed. He motioned for her to stay, and then he went out the door. Christy waited a moment and then peeked out the drawn shades into the hallway. The conductor was still standing by her door. Apparently he had appointed himself her personal bodyguard for the remainder of her trip through France.

I must have tipped him a lot of money, Christy thought. Either that. or he's my guardian angel in disguise.

She swallowed; her throat hurt terribly. She found a cough drop in her bag and tried to sleep. It was an on-and-off endeavor.

Right before sunrise, Christy decided she couldn't wait any longer to go to the bathroom. She put on her shoes and looped her black bag over her arm. Carefully opening her door, she was almost surprised to see that her personal guard wasn't standing there.

Then Christy heard a "bonjour" and saw that he had moved to the end of the hallway and was smoking a cigarette by an open window.

Probably not my guardian angel. She smiled, said "Merci "again, and pointed to the tiny train restroom across the way. When she came out several minutes later, the conductor was still standing there. He pointed to something out the window, and she stopped to see the sun coming up across rolling green hills. An old stone barn stood alone in the distance. The chilly wind from the open window blew her hair back. It was a beautiful scene and a beautiful morning. Christy imagined they must be somewhere in the middle of France, but she had no idea where.

Back in her compartment, she crawled into her warm bed. She lifted the shade on her window just far enough to see outside. For nearly an hour she sat contentedly watching the breathtaking scenery roll past her.

"I'd like to come back someday," she said to her Silent Companion. "I'd like to explore every little village we've pa.s.sed and experience all kinds of new adventures."

Christy pulled out her journal and recorded the events of the past few days as best she could. It seemed impossible that so much had happened in such a short time.

After bringing her journal entries up to the event of the drunken man and her uniformed bodyguard, Christy wrote, I think I know what I'd like to be when I grow up. Or, should I say, what I think G.o.d would like me to be when I grow up. I'd like to be a missionary. Here, in Europe. I like working with children. Surely there's some place that needs a missionary to tell the little kids about Jesus. Whatever it takes in schooling or training, I want to go after it wholeheartedly when I get home.

Reaching for her sack lunch, Christy opened her bottle of orange juice. She sat back, enjoyed the scenery, drank orange juice, and ate the Toblerone candy bar she had bought before the ferry ride.

The memory of that nightmare of a trip made her shudder. At the same time, she felt as if she had accomplished something grand and glorious. She had made it this far in one piece. She felt she could do anything.

The renewed energy and confidence came in handy at Port Bou when she had to change trains. The train to Barcelona left Port Bou promptly at 12:25. It was an older train and much more crowded. Christy didn't have a compartment to herself, but shared it with five other people. Two women who appeared to be traveling together sat across from Christy and spoke such rapid Spanish that Christy could barely understand what they were saying. A teenage boy sat next to her. reading a paperback book. An elderly woman sat next to him and talked to another woman seated across from her until they both nodded off.

It felt peculiar to share a compartment with these strangers until Christy realized they were ignoring her. Perhaps she shouldn't be so interested in them. This would be a good time to finish her sandwich and the apple left in her lunch.

With her first bite into the sandwich, Christy thought of Jakobs, who had shared his sandwich with her. She wondered if he had gone hungry later in his journey to Amsterdam. Then she remembered his words at the Calais train station about finding her own verse.

She pulled out her Bible and began to skim through the psalms to see if she had underlined any verses that would mean a lot to her now. Every verse she read touched her in a different way. She had never felt so refreshed reading her Bible.

After nearly an hour, Christy found a verse that seemed perfect for her desire to be a missionary and to work with children. She copied Psalm 78:4 into her diary: "We will not hide them from their children; we will tell the next generation the praiseworthy deeds of the LORD, his power, and the wonders he has done. "

That verse stirred within Christy a call to serve G.o.d, yet it didn't seem like "her" verse, the way Jakobs's had seemed so personal for him. So she read on.

And then, in Psalm 86:11-12, she found it: "Teach me your way, O LORD, and I will walk in your truth; give me an undivided heart, that I may fear your name, I will praise your, 0 LORD my G.o.d, with all my heart; I will glorify your name forever. "

"Forever," Christy repeated as she wrote the last word in her journal. "With all my heart forever," she whispered. It felt as if the Lord were sitting right next to her, listening to every word of her promise.

When she heard an audible voice next to her, she jumped.

"Pardon me. May I ask what you are reading?" It was the teenage boy. Christy had thought he was sleeping. To her surprise she realized he had been observing her, and he spoke English.

"It's a Bible," Christy said.

"Do you mean the Holy Bible?" he asked, eyeing her Bible. Perhaps the pink-flowered fabric cover seemed unusual to him.

"Yes, of course. The Bible."

He looked surprised. "And you have been reading it this long? And with such interest?"

Christy nodded. "Do you ever read the Bible?"

"No," the tanned, dark-haired boy said. "I do not have one."

Without thinking, Christy said. "Here, would you like to have mine?"

His eyes grew wide in disbelief.

Christy quickly removed the pink cover. "Really. You can have it. It's in English, but you seem to speak English very well." She placed the Bible in his hand. "Here. I want you to have it, really."

"Muchas gracias. Thank you."

"You have to read it now," she said with a smile. She was thinking of the teenage boy in England who had scoffed at her after the drama performance.

"I will. Thank you."

"Are you going to Barcelona?" Christy asked.

"Yes," the boy answered, "I surf there sometimes. Sitges has better surfing though. It's not far."

Surfing. Christy thought. Maybe I will feel at home here.

"This is Sants now," the boy said as the train began to slow down in a huge station. "You will change here. The train to Castelldefels is very nice. More modern. Go to platform five and get on the Villa Nova train."

"Thank you," Christy said. "By the way, my name is Christy. What's your name?"

"Carlos."

"I'm working with a group of people in Castelldefels who are doing drama and music this week," Christy said. "Maybe you can come sometime, Carlos. I'm sorry I don't know when or where it will be."

"Castelldefels is not a very big place," he said with a smile. "I should be able to find you. Thank you again for your Bible. You are a different woman."

As soon as Christy was situated on the modern commuter train, she reviewed Carlos's words in her mind. "You are a different woman." She supposed "different" was meant in a good way. And he had said woman, not girl. Maybe she had grown up so much on this trip that it showed-even to strangers.

Christy could picture herself relating this story to Katie when they gathered back at Carnforth Hall. She would flex her arms and tell Katie, "I am different woman!" Indeed, that's how she felt.

Christy glanced out the window and spotted the ocean. The Mediterranean Sea, to be exact. It was a beautiful, rich blue color. Suddenly she felt at home. She could almost smell the moist ocean air through the closed train windows. A smile grew as Christy thought of how it would feel in a few short minutes to take off her shoes and socks and wiggle her bare feet in the cool sand on the beach.

This is it. Lord! This is perfect. Thank You for bringing me here; I could stay forever.

Then it hit Christy that she had no idea who was meeting her at the station. Dr. Benson had said the mission director would have her photo along with her application. She decided to look for a man like Dr. Benson, late forties, hair graying by the temples and wearing...wearing what? A flowered surfing s.h.i.+rt? Christy giggled at the thought of a mission director who might know how to surf. For all she knew, this guy would greet her in a sombrero and riding a donkey! Hopefully Merja and Satu would be there too. and they would recognize her right away.

She felt nervous. This was it. She had made it all the way by herself. With the Lord, of course. But here she was. And in less than five minutes, the train would stop, and she would begin her week as a missionary woman.

She decided to make a quick run to the train's restroom and do her best to look presentable. It wasn't an easy task. The eighteen hours of travel had taken their toll on her. But a quick wash of her face and brush of her hair helped her to feel refreshed. She had a sample vial of perfume, which she snapped open and rubbed up and down her arms.

Much better. Now to get my luggage and stand by the door.

As soon as the train came to a stop, Christy jumped off, all smiles. She looked around. There was no Satu. No Merja. And no mission director on a donkey. She saw no one who even vaguely looked as if he might be waiting for her.

I thought this was the right place.

She glanced around the small, nearly vacant station. There was a ticket booth and what looked like a snack bar. The station itself was old and run-down.

The train pulled away, heading down the coast toward Sitges. Christy wistfully watched it go. That's when she noticed the graffiti on the wall, and with the ocean breeze racing through the corridor came the smell of urine.

Lord, remember me? What are we doing here?

All her courage left her. This had to be a mistake. Christy reached into her bag and fumbled for the papers Dr. Benson had given her. Perhaps there was a phone number to call. Was there even a pay phone around this place? And what could she use for money? She hadn't exchanged any traveler's checks into pesetas yet. Where were those papers?

Christy dug her hand deeper into her shoulder bag. Scanning the papers she finally located there, she found no phone numbers or addresses listed. All the plans had been made in such haste. All she knew was that someone was supposed to meet her. She was here, and he or she wasn't.

Never in her life had she felt so completely alone. Stranded with nowhere to turn. A prayer came quickly to her lips. "Father G.o.d, I'm at Your mercy here. I know You're in control. Please show me what to do."

Suddenly she heard a voice calling to her.

"Kilikina!"

Christy's heart stopped. Only one person in the entire world had ever called her by her Hawaiian name. She spun around.

Kilikina," called out the tall, blond surfer who was running toward her.

Christy looked up into the screaming silver-blue eyes that could only belong to one person.

"Todd?" she whispered, convinced she was hallucinating.

"Kilikina," Todd wrapped his arms around her so tightly that for an instant she couldn't breathe. He held her a long time. Crying. She could feel his warm tears on her neck. She knew this had to be real. But how could it be?

"Todd?" she whispered again. "How? I mean, what...? I don't..."

Todd pulled away, and for the first time she noticed the big bouquet of white carnations in his hand. They were now a bit squashed.

"For you," he said, his eyes clearing and his rich voice sounding calm and steady. Then, seeing her shocked expression, he asked, "You really didn't know I was here, did you?"

Christy shook her head, unable to find any words.

"Didn't Dr. Benson tell you?"

She shook her head again.

"You mean you came all this way by yourself, and you didn't even know I was here?" Now it was Todd's turn to look surprised.

"No, I thought you were in Papua New Guinea or something. I had no idea you were here!"

"They needed me here more," Todd said with a chin-up gesture toward the beach. "It's the perfect place for me." With a wide smile spreading above his square jaw, he said. "Ever since I received the fax yesterday saying they were sending you. I've been out of my mind with joy! Kilikina, you can't imagine how I've been feeling."

Christy had never heard him talk like this before.

Todd took the bouquet from her and placed it on top of her luggage. Then, grasping both her quivering hands in his and looking into her eyes, he said, "Don't you see? There is no way you or I could ever have planned this. It's from G.o.d."

The shocked tears finally caught up to Christy's eyes, and she blinked to keep Todd in focus. "It is," she agreed. "G.o.d brought us back together, didn't He?" A giggle of joy and delight danced from her lips.

"Do you remember what I said when you gave me back your bracelet?" Todd asked. "I said that if G.o.d ever brought us back together, I would put that bracelet back on your wrist, and that time, it would stay on forever."

Christy nodded. She had replayed the memory of that day a thousand times in her mind. It had seemed impossible that G.o.d would bring them back together. Christy's heart pounded as she realized that G.o.d. in His weird way. had done the impossible.

Todd reached into his pocket and pulled out the "Forever" ID bracelet. He tenderly held Christy's wrist, and circling it with the gold chain, he secured the clasp.

Above their heads a fresh ocean wind blew through the palm trees. It almost sounded as if the trees were applauding.

Christy looked up from her wrist and met Todd's expectant gaze. Deep inside, Christy knew that with the blessing of the Lord, Todd had just stepped into the garden of her heart.

In the holiness of that moment, his silver-blue eyes embraced hers and he whispered. "I promise. Kilikina. Forever."

"Forever." Christy whispered back.

Then gently, reverently, Todd and Christy sealed their forever promise with a kiss.

Acknowledgments.