#70: LOOK FOR THE HELPERS
They are there when you need them most.
LOOK FOR THE HELPERS
Mr Rogers says “Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.” Three young men became mine when I think that I have lost my “plastic”—you know all those cards that we seem to be unable to function without in the world.
It’s 2019 and I’m heading out on a cross-country trip for a photo shoot. The day starts with the bus ride to my town center where I pick up another bus for the 2+ hour ride to the ferry terminal and a 30-minute ferry ride to Seattle. Once the ferry docks, I sling my backpack on, disembark and and walk a few blocks to the Pioneer Square Light Rail Station where I pull out my plastic to pay the fare for the train ride to SeaTac. I replace the card in the pocket of my over the shoulder cross body pouch and walk down the stairs to wait for my train. Once on, I check to make sure I have everything but when I look, I see that the pocket of my pouch is open and the card I just used is not in it. I look again. Not only is that one card missing, ALL my important cards are gone. Oh no, I think. Did I drop them somewhere between the ticket machine and the train? and I get a big sinking feeling.
I get off at the next stop, two stops from where I have begun the train ride, and fear the worst—that my cards have been picked up and are now being used to buy a trip to Paris or Rome, a new entertainment center, and car.
I walk down the platform and see three young men dressed in uniforms. Their jackets say, “Fare Enforcement.” One of them sees my face as I approach and I think he figures that something is up as I am walking so briskly.
“I’ve lost my cards.”
I show them the EFP protector envelopes surrounding the remaining ones—Triple A/Costco/Library—and describe the three other matching envelopes that should be there, the ones that have my drivers license, Social Security, Medicare, credit and debit cards. They know how serious this can be and when I hear one of them give a little groan I realize that this is more than just the hassle of travel without cards and replacing them. It is also the possibility of identity theft. They have official phones and immediately call “Will” at the Pioneer Station and ask him to retrace my path. We are all hoping that he might be able to find my plastic before someone else does. The four of us get back on the train and head towards the stop where I bought my ticket.
When our small entourage arrives at the Pioneer Square Station, one accompanies me up the elevator, and the other two go up the stairs. They search. I search. Nothing. Bummer. I am anticipating the phone calls that I will need to make to cancel the cards and place my hand on the zipped pocket of my cargo pants where my phone is. I reach inside to pull it out and…well, wouldn’t you know it? Along with my phone, there the cards are. Thinking of where I was going and not where I was, I became distracted and put my plastic in a different place. Thankfully it was a safe one, too. I call out to one of my helpers a few feet away to let him know that the search is over.
“I found them.”
The other two show up a few minutes later and I tell them, too. I think we all feel a sense of relief; they for the older lady wearing braids and a backpack; and me that I am not going to have to figure out how to travel without plastic.
All of this leaves me feeling a little shaky and I think they sense this, too. So you know what they do? Without saying anything, my three helpers make a little circle around me and stay with me until the next train comes. I feel protected and safe, and as I smooth out a bit, I tell them that I am traveling to NYC for photo shoot #2 of book #3. I show them pictures I have taken on my phone of my pies.
“This one’s an apple elderberry pie.”
Now we’re chatting about about elderberries—specifically European elderberries—and how they bolster health and the immune system. One of my new friends shares that his family is from Hungary and he remembers summers there with his relatives when they would go out to pick elderberries and of the elderberry syrups made by his grandparents. I tell him I make syrups, too and show him the picture of me picking elderflowers on the summer solstice. We’re all smiling now and the second helper tells me of his mom, an artist, who also travels and writes. I wish I had gotten her name.
They ask me if I am going on to the airport now and when I tell them I am spending the night at the home of friends, they make sure I know which stop to disembark at and how many stops away it is. They ask what time my flight is the next day and tell me exactly what time to get on the train in the morning for the airport. I think what nice lads they are. When the next train pulls into the station I’m feeling a lot better and they bid me safe journey and farewell. I get back on board, with my plastic safely tucked away in the right place, and resume my journey. Perhaps the old lady in braids and backpack made their evening and perhaps not, but I know for certain that these three helpers sure made mine.
One last thing…almost home from a walk with a friend yesterday, she realizes her over the shoulder cross body pouch is not with her and may still be at the park we have just walked from. I know that feeling and we pick up our pace for the last four blocks to quickly get to my house. I run inside and get my keys, and we drive back to the park a few miles away. As luck would have it, her pouch, with plastic and phone inside, is just where she left it, too.
I love this story. The tension was palpable and I am familiar with the feeling of experiencing just a tad of old-ness when I do something that involves memory (to be exact...the LACK of....and distraction. It's so humbling. Your "angels" and their care-taking made me smile.
Many thanks for sharing such a wonderful outcome to a gut-wrenching panicky event for you... Bless those young ‘Guardian Angels’ for helping watch over you!