I have been intending to write a post on this subject for weeks, but I now have an imperative. Overall, our travels have progressed smoothly: our destination targets have been met, we have traveled all the way South and East and are on the final leg of the journey, there have been bumps along the way, but none that have overturned the endeavor. But life and people are always full of surprises.
In New Orleans, I had the unexpected privilege of meeting a man who was begging on the street in the French Quarter. Now, usually, I will admit that I don’t tend to give money to people on the street. It’s not that I find them undeserving or that I’m not moved by their bequests, but I’ve learned through the years just how crucial it is to make sure that my family’s needs are met before I try to help others because unless we’re solid, I can’t honestly help anyone. But there was something about this one particular man, the depth in his eyes, his chant of “anything will help, anything will help,” that held me longer than usual and I dug into my pocket and asked Spencer to drop the money in his cup. He didn’t just say thank you. He locked onto the gaze of both of my boys and thanked them, but then he went one step further. He told them to stay in school, to avoid drugs, to make me proud. He told them that he was as young as they were once and that he had dropped out of school and turned to drugs and that that was how he ended up where he was today. He thanked them for their help, but he gave them so much more back that I walked away feeling in his debt.
This summer has brought us rich opportunities, friendship, family and memories that will surely take years to process. Today alone, we drove through Badlands National Park and saw pronghorn antelope, bighorn sheep, prairie dogs and burrowing owls. We’ve had phenomenal opportunities, many supplied by the near strangers referenced in the title of today’s post. We have toured a genomics laboratory, seen limestone caves, clambered around ancient cliff dwellings, held alligators, met cousins and friends we haven’t seen in years and been treated with incredible kindness – coast to coast.
And last night, driving along I-90, I thought that we had finally met our match. The impatience of reaching our destinations has reached a higher pitch now that we’re staring down the final stretch of the journey and we’re all anxious to see familiar faces again. We have secured a rental in Pennsylvania near the college, I’ve found a job that will work around my school schedule and I have received generous support that will cover our relocation expenses. But in order to preserve our savings for those substantial upcoming expenditures, I’ve become increasingly sensitive to our expenses. Most of our accommodations were arranged months ago and nearly all of the rest were made during my stay with family in Oklahoma, during a frenzied night juggling the computer and my phone. However, there were three pesky nights that I left to chance. They were toward the end of the trip, so it seemed possible that plans might shift by then. We had also gotten used to seeing a pluthera of vacancy signs by then and I wasn’t worried about finding available rooms in Iowa, Idaho or Oregon – especially outside of the major cities. The joke was on me.
Around. 1:30 a.m., I started checking motels because I was too tired to press on any further, but one after another, they were full. Jackson, Minnesota and Spirit Lake, Milford, and Spencer, Iowa were all packed. The only room to be found was going to exceed $100 and it was well past two o’clock at this point, which meant that the expense would only net us a few hours of sleep. I pulled into a gas station and found a clerk who allowed the boys and I to nap in the parking lot. A little over an hour later, a tap on my window introduced us to Anna, the inspiration for this post. She took us in for the night and we couldn’t have been more grateful. The humidity and heat had turned the car into a greenhouse. Her house and hospitality were the most beautiful gift at the end of a long day.
For the two and a half years that I worked at Mark Lesley’s side, we were always running up against evenings that refused to cooperate and situations that looked impossible, but he’d always reassure me that “Everything will work out, darling. It always does.” I’m not prone to blind optimism, but with that extraordinary man at the helm, it always seemed to.
From the friends of friends who opened their home to us to Anna to the man in New Orleans, I have never meant to depend on the kindness of strangers, but I am in their debt all the same. I am so, so fortunate for all of these wonderful people. I know that we’re living in an era when it is easy to feel jaded and callous about people, but incredible people exist and when you find them, I’m hard pressed to think of anything more remarkable. I cherish every one of my friends and many of you have been instrumental in helping us get through the years and supporting us, but this post is specifically dedicated to Anna, Rick, Wendy, and all of the other recent strangers who have taken us under their wings during this trip. Many, many thanks.
girlonahalfshill 