I was anxious. She was late meeting me. I know we're all running on Afircan time now, but whe you only have an hour to visit with someone you haven't seen for over a year and who you won't see for another 6 months, being half an hour late is a little excessive. But then, she was leaving the country that night and traffic on the QEW is always bad; tardiness is inevitable, really.
I was anxious waiting for Kyla in the Timothy's next to Mountain Equipment Co-Op. A man struck up conversation with me. "Do you work for MEC?" After being gone for a year I had forgotten what opening lines beyond "Hey, white girl!" actually sounded like. Turns out he was South African and couldn't understand why on earth I'd go to Sierra Leone. He asked me if I didn't have any people around me who loved me enough to not let me go. I don't think it really operates like that. I thought, well, I seem to have enought peolpe around who love me enough to let me go even if they don't want to. Isn't that better? When Kyla walked in he said "Why on earth do you let her go to Sierra Leone?" Well, Ky was just in Liberia, so I don't think she'll have an answer for you...
Seeing Kyla again was wonderful, if not very brief. Of course I was emotional again, but managed to keep it (mostly) together. After saying goodbye, I hopped on the streetcar to head up to Spadina and Dundas to catch a Greyhound bust to Orillia where I was going to meet up with Lindsay for her bachelorette. The streetcar driver was particularly chatty, and we talked about the utter failure of self-tanners and the women who abuse them...riveting stuff. But he managed to distract me from my distressed state, so for that I was thankful. Unfortunately, I missed a flock of streetcars at Dundas (why is it that streetcars always travel in packs?) and I had to wait 15 mintues before another one came. The minutes ticked by and I new I was going to miss my bus to Orillia.
The 15 minute wait was not my shining hour and involved much internal cursing as well as a few muttered threats thrown towards the streetcar tracks, as if my open animosity towards them would magically bring a streetcar whizzing towards me. I tried not to worry too much, tried to say the situation was out of my hands and also did a little peading with the good lord to get me to the station on time.
I finally resigned myself to the fact that I was not going to make the 2pm bus and this was confirmed when saw the enormous line up for tickets at the terminal. Thankfully the departures screen floating above my head while I waited to purchase my ticket, seemed to indicate that there was another bus to Orillia leaving at 2:30pm. Perfect. The ticket agent confirmed this to be true and that it was scheduled to arrive in Orillia a mere 20 mins. after the 2pm bus. No harm, no foul. As I was paying for my ticket (VISA: priceless), I turned my head and saw Paul Cox standing at the booth on my right. I did a leadership course with him in 1997 and then worked as staff at the same program 7 years later. Paul was another welcome distraction from my own thoughts and we chatted and caught up on the first half of the bus ride. (Paul is an accomplished artist, and he has a website. Check it out: www.paulcox.ca). Paul lives in the Annex and we got to talking about churches in the area...it was a good chance to see what else is out there and to talk to someone about the possibilities.
Now just think, if I hadn't missed the streetcar and needed to take the later bus I would never have run into Paul, never had distracting and valuable conversation, and instead would have ended up crying out my window all the way to Orillia.
Like I said, God's got big hands.
I finally resigned myself to the fact that I was not going to make the 2pm bus and this was confirmed when saw the enormous line up for tickets at the terminal. Thankfully the departures screen floating above my head while I waited to purchase my ticket, seemed to indicate that there was another bus to Orillia leaving at 2:30pm. Perfect. The ticket agent confirmed this to be true and that it was scheduled to arrive in Orillia a mere 20 mins. after the 2pm bus. No harm, no foul. As I was paying for my ticket (VISA: priceless), I turned my head and saw Paul Cox standing at the booth on my right. I did a leadership course with him in 1997 and then worked as staff at the same program 7 years later. Paul was another welcome distraction from my own thoughts and we chatted and caught up on the first half of the bus ride. (Paul is an accomplished artist, and he has a website. Check it out: www.paulcox.ca). Paul lives in the Annex and we got to talking about churches in the area...it was a good chance to see what else is out there and to talk to someone about the possibilities.
Now just think, if I hadn't missed the streetcar and needed to take the later bus I would never have run into Paul, never had distracting and valuable conversation, and instead would have ended up crying out my window all the way to Orillia.
Like I said, God's got big hands.
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