Airports, British Chocolate, and Other Nuggets of Goodness

I had to pass hundreds of aisles of expensive perfume, handbags, and vodka to get to my gate at the Manchester Airport; I forgot whether I was in an airport or a shopping mall. (good joke, Molly) I, however, did get to see a Muslim security man frisk a white guy, so that was kinda of satisfying. Now, I'm just a short flight away from spending my Christmas break with my cousin Mia and some German friends in Germany and the Netherlands!  The Busch families have been most hospitable to Mia and I, and they are going to be our guides and translators for our journey.

             Life has moved pretty fast these past couple weeks, and I have loved it. We have been doing so many Christmas-y type outreaches that have gotten me in the spirit. I think I've sang almost every single Christmas carol you have ever heard close to 10 times. But, since I haven't posted in a little while, I let you in on some other little nuggets of goodness that I have recently experienced.

On November 26, a small, dementia-stricken elderly lady named Dot told me that she couldn't talk long because her father had given her a curfew. We sat knee-to-knee in the lounge at care home that smelled of plastic and flowery air freshener. I asked, “Were you ever married?” Not hesitating a second, she responded, “I’m not old enough to marry yet.”

On December 7, standing in the middle of a busy street discouraged by the lack of response in my effort to help a local ministry, a mentally disabled middle-aged man gave me a hug, and it is something I know I won’t forget. I’m not crazy about hugs from strangers, but there was an innocence about him that brought out the tiny bits of compassion in me. He said, “Merry Christmas” in an accent that warmed my soul, and then he disappeared.

On December 9, I met a homeless woman who hit her partner in the head with a meat cleaver and did not go to jail. Only partially concentrating on the book in my hands on a frigid day in a park, when she approached me and spilled her life story.Thick black eyeliner circled her crystal blue eyes, prematurely aged from bad habits and a hard life. The smoke from her self-rolled cigarette burned my throat. She did not ask for money once. She just wanted a friend.


It's been a great month. 

Also, British people seem to really like to give chocolate as gifts, so I have eaten an embarrassing amount of sweets recently. 


Merry Christmas, friends and family! Ta ra!