This week, I watched a lightning storm from the banks of the Vlatva River. I sat overlooking rooftops of Prague, watching the sunset with excellent company and wholehearted conversation. I layed on the grass in many parks, taking naps and being swept away by every single page of The Little Prince. I lived like a Bohemian for a little bit each day (isn't that what you do when you go to Bohemia?) I let my feet get used to walking for miles on cobblestone; this was a struggle for the first few days. I picnicked on a castle wall and wrote stories from the same spot and in front of the same landscape that inspired great authors. I found my niche in a coffee shop among expats and wayfarers. I ended every evening in Old Town Square, watching crowds of hundreds of young people rallying for pub crawls and, on the other hand, retired couples on vacation admiring the architecture and sitting in jazz bars. I could cover a wall with my newly accumulated stack of metro tickets. I bought myself a tiny glass swan to satisfy lifelong desire for a glass menagerie. God is good to me; He met me in all these places and met with me and helped me take wrong turns that lead to beautiful sights and literally gave me fireworks when I told him He was far away.
I'm learning a lot about God and myself and Us.
Can I please tell you how good He is, once more? On the way back to Timisoara, I caught the sunset from a train car in the company of a blind, old woman who recited her own poetry, two schoolteachers, a folk singer, Lavi, a Spanish guitar and two music students who knew how to use it. We all had a story, and nobody would've known it if we hadn't been stuck together in miserable heat for 6 hours. Our car had filthy grafitti all over it and was dingy, but there was so much joy in that little space! Our surroundings didn't matter much (plus, the sunflower fields outside looked incredible against the pink of the sky). I think my favorite part was when one of the schoolteachers, who had been silent for hours, asked, "Could I fiddle around a bit too?" We were astonished. "Of course!" I was beaming from ear to ear when I heard him start singing, in a thick Romanian accent, "She'll be coming 'round the mountain when she comes". He ended his little gig with "One little, two little, three little Indians" and "My Bonnie lies over the ocean". It was incredible, like a scene from a movie.
And now, I get to rest up a bit and do some laundry before starting on another week of trains. Yes, yes, yes!