Loriena scowled at the old milk cow in front of her.  Benna was being unusually obstinate and uncooperative that morning and Loriena was out of patience.  The stupid animal had kicked the milk bucket over for the third time in what seemed like an intentional act of ruining her already miserable existence while her impoverished family tried to  eke out a living on the tiny farm.  Benna mooed loudly, shifting from one hoof to the other; her udders aching with the need to be milked but agitated by some unseen pest.

                “Benna, so help me, if you don’t stop your bawling and fussing, I’m just going to let your udders explode!” growled Loriena, setting down the milking stool for the tenth time. Benna finally settled down long enough for Loriena to fill the pail with the milk. Relieved, she stood up, shoved away the milk stool and bent to lift the pail when Benna mooed loudly again and kicked it  over, dumping all the milk onto the barn floor.

                “ARGH!!” Loriena shrieked, frustrated beyond belief. Her father was going to be sore-vexed with her for this. She reached down through the straw to fling the first rock she could find at the stupid cow and raised her arm to let fly but the rock in her hand suddenly went white hot. She dropped it with scream and jumped back.  It fell onto the mud-packed floor and rolled a few feet away but the green glow coming from it was unmistakable in the early morning light.

                Was she seeing things? She crept forward; hardly daring to breath, not caring that she was dragging her skirts through the spilt milk and mud.  She crouched down to study the rock closer. The glow was starting to fade now. She touched it tentatively; afraid of burning herself again. The rock was now simply warm but still pulsing with a beautiful green light. She cradled it in her palms, studying it; a strange feeling building in the pit of her stomach. Suddenly a tiny crack appeared, then another, then another until it began to resemble an exotic egg that had broken. A tiny puff of smoke issued from the biggest crack and Loriena gasped in mixed terror and delight.

                “Loriena!” snapped the voice of foster father, Jarrod. “What goes on here? Where’s the milk?”  He got his answer when saw the large puddle spreading slowly across the barn floor. “Ye gods, girl, what has gotten into you?” he demanded, striding up to her to yank her up by the arm. Instead his attention was diverted to the green glowing oval rock which Loriena was also staring at in astonishment. The cracks had grown so large that now she could see the creature wriggling inside; fighting to free itself. Jarrod froze in his tracks.

          He had been warned long ago when he had first agreed to foster Loriena that this day might come, he just had never really truly believed it would! He watched in horrified fascination as the creature finally freed itself from its egg casing and looked straight into the eyes of Loriena, imprinting itself upon her. Loriena stared right back, transfixed as if in a spell.

                “Loriena,” said, Jarrod, his voice hoarse with the realization of what was about to happen. “We must get thee away, quickly! Today! Before you are discovered and word spreads about your beastie there.” He grasped her arm and carefully put the tiny dragon into a leather satchel where it squeaked in protest. 

                “Huh, What?” she replied, too mesmerized to respond. Unable to think of anything else except the sight of the beautiful, tiny green dragon that had looked right into her soul. She half-ran, half-stumbled along as Jarrod hauled her back into their farmhouse, talking out loud to himself the entire time.

                “…she’ll need at least a month’s supply of food and water and a safe place to hide until it’s full grown. The caves of Kirtan should serve well and there is a spring nearby…” he muttered, flinging supplies onto the shaky wooden table.

                “What are you doing? Where are we going?” Loriena pleaded, suddenly coming out of her stupor.  Jarrod was making plans for her life without so much as her say-so!

                “You must remain in hiding until it’s full grown and it can protect you!” he repeated, his eyes round with fear. “The Urgal’s have kept watch on this place for years. If they find out you have a hatchling, they will come after all of us!”

                “Hatchling? Urgals?” repeated Loriena, nonplussed. “What are you talking about and what is that creature you put in your satchel?”

                “No time to explain!” hissed Jarrod, stuffing cured meats, dried fruits, and wayfarer’s bread  into a leather backpack at frantic speed. He added to this a warm woolen cloak, a flint rock and some kindling all the while muttering a constant stream of oaths.  When he had everything packed, he pushed her out the door again and led her behind the farmhouse and into the thick woods of Kirtan which bordered the property.  The pace he set was almost impossible for Loriena to keep up with; some unspeakable terror was driving him and she had no choice but to go where he led her. They marched the rest of day and took no rest until late afternoon when they reached the mouth of a large cave that was half-hidden by heavy forest and brush.

                “Here you must stay, Loriena.” Jarrod commanded her, flinging the leather satchel and what looked like a strange saddle into the mouth of the cave.

                “You’re abandoning me here?”  Loriena began to cry, her eyes filling tears. “What have I done wrong? I’m sorry about the milk!”

                Her tears seemed to bring Jarrod back to the present. He regarded her with pity and cupped her cheek in his hand. “Have you never wondered why you didn’t look like either of us?” he asked, gazing at the beautiful child he had fostered for the past 14 years. Loriena shook her head. She had never seen what she looked like, except in a wavering reflection of a brook or pool of water. “You were brought to us as an infant, for safe-keeping.” He said, trying to explain as best he could in a short space of time.

          It was getting dark and he did not want to be caught in the forest at night. “We have taken care of you as if you were our own, Loriena, but you are elf-kind!” He took her hand and placed her fingers at the top of her ears which were elegantly curved into points. She gasped, having never paid attention to them before. She stared back at Jarrod whose brown eyes were now filling with tears. “It is no longer safe for you to be on our farm with that hatchling. Word will get out and they’ll come looking for you. I will come back as soon as I can and bring you fresh supplies but you must stay hidden here until it is full grown.”

                “Until what is full grown?!” Loriena demanded with a scream, bringing him up short.  The whole day had started off like a nightmare. First the cow and the spilt milk, then the rock that had burned her hand, then the tiny green glowing creature and now Jarrod prattling on like a crazed lunatic with every intention of dumping her in this god-forsaken cave.

                “YOUR DRAGON.” He growled, pointing to the creature wriggling out of the satchel. Loriena eyes followed to where he pointed and found the creature staring up at her with an intensity she found both compelling and frightening. She was utterly transfixed, unable to tear her eyes away from it. It’s skin was a sparkly emerald green and it’s pale green eyes piercing.

                Loriena! Said a tiny voice in her head. She gasped and the tiny dragon blinked at her.

                “I must go now!” Jarrod said, backing away. “I’ll come back in a week to see how you’re getting on. Stay hidden and learn well!”

                Loriena barely noticed him leave, still caught in the spell of the little creature. She squatted down and held out her cupped hands.  It crawled forward and with a flick of its tiny tongue, settled itself into her hands. She straightened and carried it into the cave.

                Fire, said the voice inside her head. Obediently she knelt down, arranged the kindling Jarrod had carried with them and set it ablaze with the flint rocks.

                Hungry, came the next thought after the fire was crackling merrily away. Loriena searched inside one of the satchels and found a strip of cured meat. She tore it up into tiny pieces and put it before the tiny dragon which snatched it up and gulped it down without chewing.

                The days and nights passed swiftly, so intent was Loriena on bonding with the dragon which grew at an exponential rate. When the day came that Jarrod returned with fresh supplies, he was obviously taken aback at how swiftly it had grown and was terrified at its sheer size.

                “Father, come closer,  Emerelda won’t hurt you,” Loriena said, patting the neck of the dragon which now towered a full man’s height above them. It was a magnificent beast and only a third full grown. It was going to be a nightmare when it reached full maturity! Jarrod balked at the idea of coming any closer but the dragon merely stared at him with benign eyes.  He laid down the satchel of fresh supplies and rubbed his beard, suddenly realizing that he had not brought enough food. The beastie alone could eat every morsel and still not be sated; leaving Loriena with nothing.

                “Emerelda, eh?” he said with a grin in Loriena’s direction. “It suits her well.” He looked at the meager supplies he had brought. “I don’t think there’s enough here for the two of you…”

                Saddle! Hunt! came the words into Loriena’s head. She went into the cave and came back out carrying the odd saddle Jarrod had left a week ago. “Is this for my dragon?” she asked, laying it at Jarrod’s feet.

He nodded, looking over the fine leather and stitching.  “It will protect you from the scales.” He answered, hefting it up. He put it into her arms. “She will allow only you to put it on her.” He said, backing away. As if on cue, Emerelda went onto her belly and allowed Loriena to lay it upon her.  Speaking mind-to-mind, the dragon instructed her on how to fasten it securely then lay down again so Loriena could mount.

         Hunt now! No sooner had the words appeared in her mind that the dragon took off for the first time, flapping its’ great wings like a giant bird of prey. Loriena held on for dear life, barely able to open her eyes because of the streaming wind. The landscape of the forest suddenly lay far below them and clouds swiftly passed underneath as they sped through the air. It was freezing up so high but the dragon’s warmth enveloped her and kept her comfortable as they glided. Loriena could suddenly see from Emerelda’s viewpoint and with her eagle-like eyes, she spotted a large buck grazing in a meadow.

        Suddenly a shadow covered them, blotting out the light of the son.  A mighty roar issued from what only could have been another dragon. The noise was deafening.

         With streaming eyes, Loriena watched in amazement as a blue dragon swooped down to the same level as she and Emerelda. On its’ proud back was another rider just like her, only it was a young man with a large sword and his dragon was wearing armor!

          Eragon and Saphira wants us to land in that glade below, said the voice of Emerelda in her head. Without further hesitation, the two dragons folded their wings and wheeled down in spirals until they both reached the meadow. The young man leapt off the saddle of his dragon and strode over to her.

          “Saphira heard the heartbeat of your dragon a week ago; we have been watching and waiting for you.” He said, removing his helmet.

          “Why would you be waiting for me?” asked Loriena, her head spinning with the sudden cataclysmic changes in her world. She had gone from lowly farm-girl to looked-for elf and dragon-rider in the space of a single week.

         “You have been kept in hiding until the day you could join us in the war against Galbatorix.”

         “War?” squeaked Loriena. At the mention of the word, both dragons lifted their long necks high into the sky and roared, sending plumes of fire rising high…

 

          The door to Tessa’s room flew open with a bang causing her to suddenly sit up in bed in alarm.

          “Tessa, time to get up!” her mother’s voice rang out as she marched down the hall. Tessa looked around her room, temporarily bewildered. The meadow, dragons and Eragon was gone. Reality hit hard and it was a huge disappointment. It felt too real to have been just a dream! She had often day-dreamed about being in such a story after reading the book, Eragon but she had never had a dream of such detail before.  With a resigned sigh, she swung her feet out of bed and attempted to stand up but instead fell over, tripping on a small round object.

          She looked down and felt her heart nearly stop. With shaking hands she squatted down and picked up the large, round egg-like rock which began glowing and glittering in her hands as if it were lit from within with green fire.

“Uh oh!” she said.

Tags: dragon, elf, Wish fulfillment

This particular story was requested by Hannah, a friend of Mirriam/Earwen’s who starred in her own story called The Magic Quill.  Hannah loves the Japanese culture and hopes one day to meet and marry a nice Christian Japanese man. This story is different from all the others in that I did not take her character out of reality and into a magical world but placed her in Japan on an student exchange program. Enjoy!

      Hannah looked wearily out the window of the Boeing 747 window.  The excitement and thrill of flying to Japan on an exchange student program had worn off and been replaced by jet lag, flying fatigue and a bit of anxiety. It seemed like she had been trapped in her tiny coach seat for a week although it had only been 9 hours. Her back was stiff, her legs cramped and all she wanted to do was to climb into bed and sleep!

     Her host family, the Nakaguchi’s promised they would be waiting for her at the gate with a big sign with her name on it but now she was worried because at the last minute her flight had been canceled due to mechanical difficulties and she had been forced to board another carrier to make it to Tokyo on the same day.  She had not been allowed to use her cell phone to call ahead and forewarn them about the change.  If she hadn’t felt so exhausted she would have been freaking out in panic. She couldn’t read or speak Japanese and her flight was arriving at a completely different terminal than what her host family was expecting.

     She shut her eyes and prayed again. Please, dearest Lord, help me to find my host family. Please send an angel or something to guide me!

     Two hours later the flight finally set down in Tokyo and along with all the other travel-weary passengers, Hannah lugged her carry on luggage down from the overhead compartment, almost decapitating a little Japanese man in the process and it fell out of her grip.

     He let loose with a stream of angry Japanese, scolding her. Hannah felt like crying. Going to Japan for an entire year had been such a dream for her but it was starting off like a nightmare!

     She finally made it off the plane and into the terminal.  The outside air within the airway between the terminal and the airplane was hot and very humid. In the space of just a few moments, she had sweated through her clothes. OMG! She had been warned about the humid weather in Japan but nothing could have prepared her for walking into what felt like a sauna!

      She reached the terminal and looked around, hoping that by some miracle God had communicated to the Nakaguchi’s her new arrival status. She saw signs but none of them were in English and none had her name. Her heart sank. She turned around to take a 360 degree look around, lost her balance and found herself falling over someone.

     “Ouch!” she cried out, feeling a sharp pain in her ankle. She looked down and could already see it starting to swell and turn blue. Great, just great. First the plane change and now this! What else can go wrong?

     “Please excuse me!” cried a young masculine voice. The next thing she knew, she was being gently lifted to her feet by one arm by a total stranger. “I apologize for making you to trip!” he continued, helping her to balance on her good leg. Hannah suddenly came eye to eye with a strikingly handsome and young Japanese man. His mouth fell open in surprise and shock for a moment and then 5,000 years of ingrained Japanese politeness came to the fore. He bowed briefly then helped to maneuver her over to a seat in the terminal. Then he knelt down and propped up her injured ankle onto her suitcase so it was elevated.

     “One moment, please!” he said, bowing again.  He raced off to a local concession stand and came back with a towel filled with ice cubes. He laid it gently upon her ankle. Stealing glances at her every few moments, he set about to arrange her luggage neatly around her then he stood and bowed again. “I humbly beg forgiveness, Miss American,” he said, turning red. “I did not attend to cause you injury.”

     Miss American? Hannah giggled despite the pain. “Uh, it’s okay…it was an accident,” she said, peering at her now bloated ankle and wondering how on earth she was ever going to find her host family now.  She tried calling them on her cell phone but she had never used the international features before and needed her guide sheet on all the number to dial. She looked at the chagrinned young man and suddenly noticed how handsome he was. He stuck out his hand to her, American style.

     “Akihiko,” he introduced himself. “It translates as bright prince.”

      Hannah blushed deeply and shook his hand. “Hannah….uhhhh….just Hannah.” She said, wishing she had an exotic meaning for her name as well. Bright prince!!!!

     Akihiko smiled at her and Hannah felt her heart skip a tiny beat. “Is there anything more I can to do you?” he asked in his faulty English. Hannah stifled another giggle, tempted to tell him that no, a twisted ankle was sufficient, but then she thought better of it.

      “Yes, Akihiko,” she said, nodding earnestly. “Could you help me find my host family?” She then explained to him as simply and as clearly as she could what had happened with the plane change and how she was supposed to have been in a different terminal 1 hour from now to meet them. Akihiko nodded every now and then, making mental notes in his head. When Hannah was done, he stood up and flung his arm across his chest in a knightly salute.

     “Never fear!” he intoned with a solemn face that made Hannah want to giggle some more. “Akihiko is here! He will save your day. Wait here!” With that he ran off and rounded up several airport employees.  One went down to baggage claim to get her luggage so they could help her through customs and the other ran for a wheelchair. In no time at all, Hannah found herself being wheeled through the terminal at breakneck speed with Akihiko half riding/half pushing from behind while barking a stream of orders in rapid-fire Japanese.

      With Akihiko’s help and that of the kind air terminal employees, Hannah was fast-tracked through customs and then they were speeding on their way to the other terminal to meet up with the Nakaguchi’s before they ever knew what had happened!

     She and Akihiko actually came up from behind them. The entire family was there, the two parents, daughter (who was the same age as she) and son a few years older.

     “Mr. Nakaguchi!” Hannah called from her chair, waving her arms. “I’m over here!”

     The entire family turned around in shock and gaped at her, wondering where she had come from and why she was in a wheelchair. Of course, being Japanese they wouldn’t think to even ask such intrusive questions but merely bowed in greeting before turning to Akihiko.

     “Konnichiha, Akihiko!” exclaimed the brother of the family, a grin spreading from ear to ear. They bowed to another and then clasped hands like they were old school chums (which they were). He and Akihiko obviously already knew one another and began jabbering away in Japanese. The other family members listened politely and oohhhhed and aw-soooed every once in a while, nodding as they looked from Akihiko to Hannah as he explained what had happened.

     Finally Mr. Nakaguchi turned his full attention to Hannah. “Welcome to Japan, Ms. Hannah.” He said, bowing slightly. “Akihiko has apprised us of everything.  It was good that it was he whom you ran into; he is a long time friend of my oldest son, Kamiko. They were classmates and lives with his family near our apartment.”

     “Oh!” said Hannah, unable to think of anything else to say. She looked over at Akihiko and found him looking right back at her with curious look on his face. Awkward pause.

      Taking the silent cue, everyone took a hand in picking up her luggage with Akihiko pushing her wheelchair like a proud tour guide.

     They negotiated their way out of the concourse and then to a long black limousine that was large enough to fit everyone. Feeling solely responsible for Hannah’s injury Akihiko took it upon himself to help her get in and then when they arrived to get out and half-carried/half-walked her to the elevator that led to the Nakaguchi’s apartment.  To her amazement, he even held her fully in her arms while the Nakaguchi’s daughter, Hitomi, helped to carefully remove her shoes before entering their home.

     Hannah hopped inside on her one good leg until she found a chair to sit on. From that moment on, the entire family took charge. Hitomi and Kamiko brought all her luggage into the room she would share with Hitomi who  unpacked everything for her, putting her clothes, shoes, and personal hygiene items away as unobtrusively as possible. Hannah was absolutely mortified but there was nothing she could do about it until she could walk again. Once unpacked, she was led back to her room and shown the blow up air mattress they had gotten especially for her. 

     Exhausted she crawled into bed and slept for the next 12 hours.

      The next evening she woke up feeling completely discombobulated. Her body clock said it was morning but the window in the room showed a dark night sky.  She looked over at the Tatami matt next to her where Kamiko was sleeping; her mouth slightly open. The alarm clock was in Japanese but it looked like it was 2am. It was going to be a long night.  Suddenly she was struck with inspiration.

     She got out her cell phone they had placed near her (along with the directions on how to call international) and dialed the number of her friend Mirriam.

     It should be the early afternoon and Mirriam should be home and done with school…

     “Hello?” answered her friend’s voice on the other end.

     “Earwen!” whispered Hannah, trying not to wake Hitomi up.

     “Hannah?”

     “Yes.”

     “So you got into Japan okay? What time is it there now?”

     “Two am.”

     “Jet lag is awful isn’t it?” Mirriam responded compassionately.

     “I can’t talk long because Hitomi is sleeping,” Hannah whispered, glancing over at Hitomi who showed no sign of waking up. “But I just had to tell you…I hurt my ankel but I think I’ve met my Prince Charming!”

     “Shut UP!” squealed Mirriam, knowing how Hannah had always longed to meet and marry a Japanese Christian man. The sound carried well out of the earpiece and Hitomi stirred.

     “Gotta go!” whispered Hannah. “Just wanted you to be the first to know! I’ll email you later all the details!”

     The next morning (for real), a doctor friend of the Nakaguchi family came over and inspected her swollen ankle which was now a nice black and blue color. His gentle prodding evoked a few squints of pain but he seemed satisfied that it was nothing more than a sprain.  He wrapped her ankle up tight, told her to ice it regularly then left bowing.

     Hitomi helped her over to the low table where the family sat politely waiting for her.  She sat cross-legged since she still couldn’t kneel on the ankle and smiled thanks at all of them. They smiled back then bowed their heads and said grace over their meal.  The Nakaguchi’s were one of the few Christian Japanese families that had opened their home to exchange students from America. The prayer was in Japanese but at the end everyone said “Amen” in English.

     Hannah was famished; she looked at the food before her; a bowl of brown rice and hot Miso soup and of course, tea.

     Just as they all finished their meal there was a polite knock at the door. Kamiko got up with a barely suppressed grin and opened the door. In the doorframe stood Akihiko.

     He entered the room bowing to all but his almond brown eyes were fixed upon Hannah. She felt her cheeks begin to flame.  Hitomi took her arm with a smile and helped her to their room, closing the Shoji screens behind them.

     “Akihiko has asked if he may take you to a traditional Japanese Tea Room for your first day.” She explained, trying to hide her grins. “I think he is smattered on you.”

     Hannah burst out giggling but quickly clapped her hand over her mouth. “I think you mean smitten.” She grinned.

     With Hitomi’s assistance Hannah got cleaned up and changed her clothes. The doctor had left both crutches and a wheelchair for her use. She hobbled out on the crutches while Akihiko carried the wheelchair out the front door. Armed with her camera, guidebook and purse, the family bowed and waved goodbye as Akihiko helped her into her chair.

     It was all happening so fast her head was in a whirl. He maneuvered her and the wheelchair into the elevator then out to the street where he took her to a local train station.  Hannah should have felt nervous, after all, Akihiko was practically a virtual stranger, but it all seemed fine somehow and she had God’s peace that passes understanding. Soon they were both on a bullet train and speeding into the Japanese countryside.

     Soon Akihiko was pushing her chair towards an old Japanese tea house that had a gorgeous view of Mount Fuji. It had dark wood walls and a green tiled roof. She left the chair outside and Akihiko helped her into a small room with Tatami mats. They made her as comfortable as possible and then the ceremony began.

     A beautiful geisha sat down inside the room and played a traditional Japanese song upon her Shamisen. Another geisha entered the room, sliding the shoji screens aside silently, and carried in a tray that contained the tea implements: the chashaku (tea scoop), sensu (fan), chasen kusenaoshi (whisk shaper), chasen (bamboo whisk) and fukusa (purple silk cloth) as well as the green tea powder.

     Hannah watched in wonder at the elaborate preparations to prepare a simple cup of tea and could feel Akihiko’s eyes upon her the whole time. It was not proper to speak during the ceremony so they both were silent.  The hot tea was first passed to Akihiko who after sipping, turned the bowl three times in his hand then offered it to Hannah.

     She accepted with a shy bow and sipped the slightly bitter, hot liquid. Once the ceremony was completed Akihiko helped her back into her chair and took her further into town to a noodle house where they could talk freely and eat.  They spent the rest of the day together and when the sun began to set, they boarded the bullet train again back for Tokyo. They reached the Nakaguchi home by 8pm where the entire family greeted her at the door and assisted her in.  Once she was settled in a chair, Akihiko clasped her hand in his, placing a small parchment wrapped gift in her hand.

     “Thank you for accompanying me today.” He said, smiling shyly. “I leave you now in the good hands of the Nakaguchi family. I hope to see you again many times before you return to America.” With another bow to her and the rest of the family he showed himself out of their apartment.

     Hannah looked down at the little bundle in her hands and carefully unwrapped it as Hitomi looked on. Inside was a delicate gold necklace upon which hung letters in Japanese:

 

     “What does it mean?” asked Hannah turning to Hitomi.

      “In your language it means Destiny.” Hitomi replied.

 NOTE:  Hannah loved her story(above) so much that she requested a second chapter.  She just couldn’t stand not knowing what would happen next.  So here, by popular demand, is the first “chapter two” to a wish fulfillment story…

CHAPTER TWO

 

“No way!” squealed Mirriam’s voice over Hannah’s cell phone when she had finally gotten a moment to herself to call her best friend. “He gave you a gold necklace??! Hannah!” she continued in her best Darth Vader impression. “He is your DES-TIN-EEEEE!!”

Hannah giggled, the whole experience from the moment she had gotten off the airplane up to now had been rather surreal and it was just now starting to hit home that she may have, indeed, met her “Mr. Right”.

“Did he try to kiss you or anything?” Mirriam interrogated, wanting to know every last teeny tiny detail.

“Of course not!” Hannah replied shocked. “No one kisses me until I’m married! Not even on the cheek! Which reminds me, I need to call my parents and let them know I got here safely.”

“Are you going to tell them about HIM?” Mirriam asked.

“Well yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeees,” replied Hannah, wondering how she was going to break the news to her parents about Akihiko.

“Well tell me ALL about it after you do!” Mirriam said. “I have to get going and update my blog now. This author put me in a “wish fulfillment” story and I want to blog about it.”

“What’s that?” Hannah asked, curious.

“I’ll send you the link over email.” Mirriam replied mysteriously.

“Okay, bye!” Hannah said then dialed her parent’s house. She had sent them a quick text message that she had gotten there okay but knew they would want to talk with her too.

“Hi Dad!” she said when he answered the phone.

“Hanny!” he exclaimed, overjoyed at hearing her voice. “How was your flight? Did you get to catch up on your sleep? How are you liking Japan?”

“The flight was long and uncomfortable, I’m not quite caught up on sleep yet and I LOVE Japan!!” (Of course she didn’t say why.)

“That’s wonderful, honey. We’re very proud of you. I bet by the time you get back you will be fluent in Japanese!”

“I hope so…” Hannah hemmed, trying to think of an appropriate way to broach the subject. “Uh, Dad, I have something rather important to tell you.”

“So soon? You’ve only been there a few days,” he replied. “What could have possibly happened in that short time already?”

“I think I may have met…uhhhh…ummmmm…HIM.”

“Him?” repeated her dad. “Who-him?”

“Him-him!”

“Honey, you’re losing me. Give me a hint here.” Said her dad, completely bewildered.

“Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad, you’re not making this easy.” Hannah moaned. “Remember all those talks we’ve had about when I get old enough for boys to take an interest in me?”

“Yes,” came the reply. “Are you trying to tell me that there is already someone interested in you in Japan after only 2 days?” His voice was incredulous.  Hannah then described everything that had transpired from the plane change up to the present moment, leaving nothing out. When she was done the silence on the other end was almost deafening.

Then her dad cleared his throat. “Well, Hanny, I trust you to live and abide by the morals and guidelines we discussed and agreed upon together. If I didn’t trust you, I wouldn’t have agreed to let you go to Japan. I’m glad you have been open and forthright with me and I have no doubts that you will act responsibly. Mom and I love you very much; and all the animals here send their greetings. Have a great time, soak up all the local flavor and come home safely to us.”

“Okay, dad!” Hannah said, relieved. “I promise to keep things appropriate. I’ll bring everyone back some great souvenirs.”

“That’ll be great, honey. Goodbye and keep in touch and take good care of that ankle.”

“I will, dad. Love to you and mom.”

Hannah hung up the phone and fell over onto her side with a big sigh. Well that was over with and it went better than she had expected. Now she could move forward with a clear conscience.

Akihiko called upon the family the next day and spent the day with all of them and especially his school buddy, Kamiko, but his brown almond eyes constantly flitted back to Hannah, causing her to blush with pleasure constantly. Just as he was bowing and saying his goodbye’s, he finally turned his full attention upon Hannah.

“Please excuse my forwarding,” he said, with a formal bow, confusing his English words. “May I ask the pleasure of accompanying you to a Kabuki performance?”

“Kabuki?” exclaimed Hannah, unable to suppress the joy in her face. She had always longed to see a real Kabuki play but there was no such thing back where she lived. The closest she could get to seeing such a thing would be to recent a National Geographic DVD or something similar.

“I would like to escort you to see a performance of Kanadehon Chūshingura at the National Theater this coming Saturday.”

“May I have your permission to do so?”

“Oh! I would LOVE to!” Hannah exclaimed, reminding herself not to jump up and down on her injured foot. “Thank you!”

The smile that spread over Akihiko’s face went from ear to ear and he almost seemed relieved. He bowed low and to Hannah’s amazement and shock, lifted her hand and kissed the top as if he were a knight in medieval England. A thrill raced up Hannah’s arm, then neck and through her hair. She could almost swear that every strand was suddenly standing on end as if electrocuted! She could hardly wait to tell Mirriam!! Kabuki and a kiss on the hand in the same day!!!

Hitomi was almost more excited than Hannah was. To see one of the most famous Kabuki plays at the National Theater was no small deal.  She took Hannah shopping the next day to find a suitable dress to wear (one could not go to the National Theater in blue jeans and cotton shirt!) she explained.  They found a lovely pale pink dress with cherry blossoms printed on it that was both modest and very feminine.

The morning of the play, they both got up early and Hitomi fussed over her, styling her hair up in a French chignon and placing delicate pink enamel combs on either side.  They had become as close as sisters in one week Hannah wore no makeup or jewelry except for the beautiful “Destiny” pendent Akihiko had given her.  When the doorbell rang signaling his arrival, she found herself hardly breathing she was so excited.  By now she was able to walk unaided and with only a slight limp but he treated her like fine porcelain, tucking her arm into his and steering her in the right direction with his hand on the small of her back.

They arrived at the National Theater (where Akihiko’s uncle worked who had arranged for the last-minute tickets). Hannah couldn’t believe how incredible and imposing it was. Because of Akihiko’s uncle their seats were fabulous, 5 rows back right in the middle. Because the programs were written in Japanese, Akihiko explained the plot of the play.

“Kanadehon Chūshingura or the “Treasury of Loyal Retainers” is famous story of the Forty-seven Ronin who track down their lord’s killer, and exact revenge upon him before committing seppuku as required by their code of honor upon the death of their lord,” he whispered as the curtain went down and the lights dimmed. The music began and the actors (all male) took their places upon the stage.

Hannah had a difficult time understanding everything that was going on but midway through the play she ceased to care because all she could think about was Akihiko taking her hand in his and holding it throughout the duration of the play.

Tags: destiny, Japan, student exchange, tea ceremony

It had been one of “those” days. Sandra’s students had been exceptionally rude, uncooperative and snotty all week and she was done.  It had taken every ounce of strength she possessed to keep her cool and deal with them according to the current parameters. How she longed for the days when principals and teachers could paddle their young charges into better behavior but now the inmates were running the asylums!

It was Friday afternoon and she had a short weekend in which she must cram grading of papers, reading challenges, dealing with family, cleaning house, etc., before it all started over again. Something had to give. She felt like a rat on a treadmill!  She was burned out and needed some kind of retreat.  She lugged her papers, books and laptop to the car and drove home, going over in her head all the things she needed to take care of before she could go to bed. She was exhausted just thinking about it.

When she got home, she checked the mail and found nothing but a brightly colored envelope in her mailbox. No junk mail, no circulars, nothing else. She looked at it closely.  Her heart practically stopped when she recognized the handwriting of her sister, Gloria, on the envelope:

“Special surprise inside for my little sister, Sandra”

All the other items in her arms slid out and fell unnoticed onto the pavement as she began to shake.  If this was Brad’s idea of a joke, it wasn’t funny! She began to fume. She ripped open the envelope and suddenly the world around her began to spin faster and faster. It felt like she was caught in a tornado but instead of dust, rooted up bushes, and farm animals swirling around her, the wind was glittering like fairy dust.  When the whirlwind finally stopped she struggled to catch her breath. Her heart was pounding and she felt dizzy. She looked around and sucked in her breath.

“Toto, I don’t think we’re in Florida anymore …” she murmured to herself. She didn’t know where she was! She looked around and saw beautiful, undulating meadows as far as the eye could see, weeping willows scattered here and there and in the midst of it all, a lone white clapboard cottage with a wrap-around porch, a white picket fence, geraniums growing in the black window boxes and lacy white curtains blowing in and out of the windows with each sigh of the wind. Under the eaves an orange canary was trilling a beautiful tune in its cage. With a surge of nervous anticipation, Sandra walked up to the front door and raised her hand to knock.  Before her fist could meet the door it flew open and she found herself enveloped in a giant bear hug, her vision obscured by a cloud of curly, golden brown hair.

“Sandra! Sandra! Sandra!” cooed the familiar and beloved voice rocking her in strong arms. Tears burst out of Sandra’s eyes and she pushed herself back enough to take in the view. Standing there, alive, healthy and beaming was her dearly departed sister Gloria! “Welcome!” Gloria bellowed, her grin spreading from ear to ear.

“What, who, when, how-“ screamed Sandra looking her up and down over and over again, sounding like a journalist pursuing a story.

“The Master decided you deserved a weekend retreat quilting, crafting, talking and eating!” Gloria announced, her face beaming. “I have all the supplies we need, all our favorite foods but no television, no phones, and no surly students.  Just the two of us! Two peas in a pod!”

“How is this possible?” Sandra demanded, allowing Gloria to pull her into the house by the hand.

“With God all things are possible!” Gloria responded with a mysterious wink, making it quite clear Sandra was going to get no further explanation.  She entered the cottage and oogled at its’ cozy charm. White painted floorboards, bright area rugs, white wainscoting, cheerful yellow walls with red accessories here and there, a large quilter’s table with two chairs with a quilt already started stretched across it. There was a smaller crafter’s table with supplies spread all over it, a cheery fire in the fireplace, and a sideboard loaded with all the comfort food one could want.  In the background soothing Christian worship music was playing.

“The Master thought of everything!” beamed Gloria, rubbing her hands with glee. “I’ve have been longing for this day for over a year!”

At these words, sobs bubbled up outside of Sandra and she covered her face with her hands, remembering the sorrow and grief at losing her sister and best friend in the whole world and the day of the funeral when she had had to say “goodbye”.

“Gloria-“she choked, unable to express what she was feeling. Gloria’s smile didn’t fade but her eyes became tender and understanding.

“I know it hurt to lose me, Sandra…” she said, enfolding her sister in her arms again to comfort her. “But I really am in a better place.  Heaven is more lovely than I could ever express and doesn’t it make heaven seem that much more real now that you know that someone you love is there waiting for you?”

Sandra nodded feebly, unable to speak.

“We won’t be parted much longer,” Gloria said, rubbing her back tenderly, “and you will always have this time together again to look back on and find joy and hope when you need it.  Now, dry your tears, sit down and let’s start! What do you want to do first?!”

With that the sister’s sat down and spent what seemed like an entire week talking, laughing, quilting, eating and just enjoying one anothers company.  Sandra never saw her sister cook anything but every day and at every mealtime there was new and wonderful food all prepared, piping hot and then mysteriously cleaned up so that they could spend their time just having fun.

It all came to end too soon for Sandra and the day arrived when there was no more food prepared and all the craft projects had been completed, much to the sister’s satisfaction. It was the best time Sandra could ever remember having, completely free of responsibility, deadlines and interruptions. Just “Sandra and Gloria” time. She was sad to have it end.

“There is one more thing…well, several more things, surprises really, we have for you before you return.” Gloria said, sitting her down in a large, overstuffed cotton chintz floral chair.

“What?” asked Sandra, wondering what on earth could possibly be better than the week she had just spent with her sister? Her soul felt thoroughly refreshed but she was still apprehensive at having to leave and face the real world again. The pressure, the deadlines and the students who acted as if they were felons serving a prison sentence instead of being given the privilege of getting an education that would help prepare them for life…

“Just wait and see!” Gloria grinned, sitting down in a chair next to her, clutching Sandra’s hand to her heart with excitement. At that moment the doorbell rang, practically making Sandra jump out of her chair in fright. For an entire week there had been no noise but the sound of their chatter, laughter, music and eating. It was so abrupt it really startled her. With a grin and a wink, Gloria went to the door, and flung it open to reveal a tall, distinguished looking executive.

He was dressed in a gorgeous pin-striped business suit, was clean-shaven and had a suitcase in his hand. He walked right up to Sandra’s chair, got down on one knee, took her hand in his and in a wavering voice said just two words: “Thank you!”

Sandra was speechless and didn’t know how to respond. After him came another man, this time it was a professor of literature, then a woman in a nurse’s uniform; on and on it went until the room was filled with professionals from all walks of life of varying ages, all standing there and looking down at her with eyes brimming with tears and smiles of gratitude.

“Gloria…” Sandra said, rising to her feet, her voice shaking. “Who are all these people?”

“We have all been students of yours at one time or another or are yet to be,” explained the nurse, gesturing to all those around her.

“I don’t understand…” Sandra said, although she was beginning to get an inkling of what was happening.

“At one time, during the course of our lives as your students, (both past and yet future) you gave each one of us either an encouraging word, a helping hand, or maybe just an understanding smile that made all the difference in the course of our lives,” said the first man. “We were on a road that was leading us nowhere but the fact that you gave of yourself to us as a teacher and mentor changed everything.  We have all asked for special permission to come here and tell you thank you so that you will know that your labor has not been and is not in vain.”

“Thank you Ms. Stiles!” they all chorused, gathering around her.

Sandra turned and looked at Gloria who was crying and laughing at the same time, beaming at her little sister. “Never forget, little sister, just how very proud I am of you!” Gloria said and held her close for one last long embrace.

In that moment, Sandra knew that everything was going to be better no matter what the circumstances of life might bring.  She closed her eyes…ready to finally part if only for a little while.

Gloria wasn’t really gone, she was just on the other side of the veil, waiting on the day when Sandra too would join her and their reunion would be permanent. For now, it was sufficient to realize that all she did day in and day out at school, in her church and at home had a meaning and purpose much greater than she would ever be able to know this side of eternity and for now…that was enough.

Tags: appreciation, sisters, teachers, Wish fulfillment

                It was 1978, I was 18 and had never gone out on a date nor had a boyfriend. I wasn’t weird looking but it seemed as though God had put a large “kiss off” sign on my forehead to keep members of the opposite sex away. I was commuting to Los Angeles daily on the public bus to attend the Fashion Institute of Design and Merchandising (“FIDM”) where the chances of meeting a normal, nice Christian male interested in the opposite sex were extremely dismal. I had just become a Christian the year before and was spending my hour long commute nagging the Lord daily about wanting to go out on a date. I was feeling quite desperate!

                On one particular day I think the good Lord had had enough of my “kvetching” and while ‘lucky dipping’ through my Bible, the following scripture jumped off the page at me. I could almost actually hear the Holy Spirit yelling the verse at me: “DELIGHT YOURSELF IN THE LORD AND HE WILL GIVE YOU THE DESIRES OF YOUR HEART!!!” At the same time, a still small voice in my head told me to write a story that would portray my wishes being fulfilled.

                I went home that day, uncovered my Smith Corona typewriter and began typing away. The title of the book was: “Jesus Wave-walker, Jesus Joy-giver”, a pretty lame title now that I look back on it but it turned out to be a pretty prophetic tale. I put myself in the story and described how the Lord called me up on the phone to take me out on a date and during that date He “introduced” me to the man He had chosen for me. At this point, I must digress and tell you that the name for my future husband, whoever he was, was always “Michael”. I prayed for Michael by name and even made a list of all the attributes I desired in my future mate: a good Christian, funny, handsome (to me anyway), had a large family, nice friends, a good work ethic, responsible, trustworthy, kind, handy, played guitar….and oh yes…had kept himself pure from women. Whenever I would tell my friends this last one they would shake their heads at me and whisper “Good luck!” under their breath. I finished my short story naming the character of the man he chosen for me as Michael. I then illustrated my book (drawing myself the way I wished I looked) as well as my “dream man”, Michael.

                Fast forward four years. I was at my 8th or 9th College and Career Church Retreat in the hopes of meeting a nice Christian boy. In the past 4 years I had left FIDM, gotten a job and moved to Orange County, met my first love, Barry, (who had died 4 months previous from a brain aneurism) and was still grieving even though my feelings for him had been unrequited. I was friends with a house full of Christian men but was still being treated like one of “the guys”. I was quickly becoming resigned to the fact that I was going to die an old maid when I looked across the crowded room of the retreat’s dining room and saw a face that caught my eye (just like that verse in the song “Some Enchanted Evening in South Pacific). He was pretty handsome and I remember thinking that he was probably stuck up because he was so handsome! The next thing I knew, he was sitting next to me.

                We exchanged smiles and introduced ourselves.

                “Hi,” I said. “My name is Marlayne.”

                “I’m Michael,” was his reply.

                My ears perked up but I said nothing about his name for fear of scaring him away. Interesting, I thought. We talked politely for a few minutes then said our goodbye’s when breakfast was done. From that moment on I was his shadow. We ended up talking for hours about cartoons, my first love then his first love; the fact that I was a Messianic Jew and on and on until the stars came out and it was time to go to our respective cabins. It had snowed that weekend (despite being April) and we threw snowballs at each other the next day. I didn’t even mind when he put his arm around me and kissed my forehead (which normally would have scared me off). The last day of the retreat I was starting to fret because Michael still had not asked for my phone number. After Sunday morning’s Bible study we would all be going our separate ways and if he didn’t ask for my phone number I would probably never see him again. With that in mind, I asked to see his Bible. He handed it over to me and I wrote my name and phone number inside the front cover and handed it back reasoning that I rather come off as forward than die a spinster.

 
                The following day, back at home I told my roommate about meeting Michael and how we had hit it off. As I left our apartment to visit Barry’s parents, I gave her some very specific instructions: “Now, Theresa, if a guy by the name of Michael calls… don’t say anything to him but call me at the Henriot’s house and let me know.” She agreed and to my delight while I was having dinner with Ruth and Al, she called and sang out: “Michael caaaalled!!”

                I was ready at that moment to call him right back (impatient person that I am) but I distinctly felt the Lord instructing me to wait an entire day. If you know me at all you would know what absolute torture this was but I obeyed and waited.

                The next day I called Michael back and in a very nonchalant voice said: “Hi! I heard you called yesterday.” (Little did he know that I was jumping up and down for glee at that moment.) Michael then asked me out on a date for the following weekend with his sister, her husband and another couple to go to Westwood to see the rerelease of Fantasia. I went right out and bought myself a whole new outfit for the occasion and when I opened the door of my apartment the following Saturday and saw Michael standing there I couldn’t help but think “Oh my… is he ever handsome!”

                After the movie we went to Hamburger Hamlet for dinner as a six-some. Little did I know until several years later that something very unusual took place during that date while I was in the ladies room. His sister’s friend, Tina, who had never laid eyes on me until that night, had turned to Michael’s sister, Debbie and asked her: “Well, what do you think of Marlayne?”

                “She seems nice,” had been Debbie’s polite response.

                “Well that’s Michael’s future wife.” Tina informed everyone. Michael was instantly incensed. He couldn’t stand this girl and how opinionated she was, so the fact that she had just said this to him instilled the exact opposite reaction. NO WAY NOW! Were his thoughts at the time but God had other plans.
                We dated for the next four years but 9 months into our relationship I finally got up the courage to show him my story with his name and face in it. It was a good thing I had waited until he was really “hooked” because if I had shown it to him early in our relationship he would have high tailed it for the hills! Almost five years after we met we were married. I put my prophetic story on display at our reception so everyone could see how God had brought us together – and haven’t seen it since. It simply disappeared.

                 My list? Oh yes, Michael fulfilled everything I had put on my list, including the last item!!
That was almost 23 years ago and we are still happily married. Michael and I were recently discussing that story and my history of other men avoiding me like they had seen a giant “kiss off” sign plastered on my forehead when Michael said one of the sweetest things to me I have ever heard:
          “Well, honey, I didn’t see the words: ‘kiss off’ on your forehead…” he reassured me, planting a tender kiss on said spot. “I saw the words: KISS HERE.”

Tags: destiny, Love, prophetic

My personal “storm” occurred 25 years ago and started out rather innocuously. I remember the day well, it was the day after I had gone to Knotts Berry Farm with my boyfriend (now husband) Michael. I got what I thought was an ordinary case of diarrhea and took the typical over the counter remedies but nothing seemed to work. This ailment continued for the next two weeks and when I began noticing blood, I decided it was time to see a doctor. I went and saw a regular MD who had me undergo a lower GI barium x-ray which showed nothing. For a few days after that I had relief then it started up again with a vengeance; making me feel weak and exhausted. I then sought the services of an internist who performed no tests but put me on a more restricted diet and took my money for a year, only to have my symptoms become worse. I began to feel punished anytime I ate and started dropping weight. Finally my mother who had been worried sick about me, insisted I see a specialist. By this time I was so miserable, I agreed. His name was Dr. Jerome Cohen. He took my history, did a sigmoidoscopy on me and then informed me he was not going to mess around with my health like the other doctors. He was going to have to do a colonoscopy to find out exactly what was wrong.

After the procedure I was informed I officially had a “disease”. It was ulcerative colitis and while there was no medicinal cure, there were things that could help. I was only 24 and was depressed to learn I actually had a disease. He started me on prednisone which many doctors call a miracle drug because it temporarily will remove many symptoms of an immune system gone haywire. What they don’t tell you is how bad this drug is for you physically in the long run and how awful it makes you behave in the short term. It’s like having perpetual “road rage” and raging PMS at the same time but it did stop my symptoms immediately. After almost 2 years of almost nonstop diarrhea, bleeding and abdominal pain, I had almost instant relief. During this time, I had gotten engaged and was planning to marry. The only thing I could say that I liked about the disease was losing the weight but it was a heck of a way to do it. To save money, I moved back home to Torrance and commuted to Orange County every day. I wouldn’t eat or drink a thing until after I had gotten to work so as to avoid “waking my bowels” up. To say that I knew where every public bathroom was on my 60 mile commute was an understatement. Sometimes I barely made it to a bathroom in time despite not eating.

As the days and weeks progressed after our wedding, it took higher and higher doses of Prednisone to keep the ulcerative colitis in check. The increase in dosage also increased my heart rate, my rage and impatience and started bloating my face and body up to the point where I looked like an organ transplant patient who was fighting rejection of the new organ. My new marriage was taking an awful beating. I was practically chained to the bathroom, could hardly eat and was making life hell for my poor new husband who began secretly considering divorce before we had kids as I was no longer the person he had married.

By now I was up to 45 grams of Prednisone a day, I was having bathroom accidents frequently (which were totally humiliating) and if I continued putting up with ulcerative colitis for several more years, it would lead to colon cancer. My life had become so miserable that I really had no options left but to schedule surgery. At this time a Christian friend at work invited me to come to her church to hear a man preach who had a miraculous healing ministry. By this time I had scheduled the surgery to remove my colon and I was frightened of the subsequent pain and changes to my body. Even though by this time I had become quite jaded towards ministers claiming to have special healing ministries, I was desperate enough to try and attend; pleading with the Lord to heal me miraculously rather than through the expensive, painful surgery I was facing. I made myself a promise that I would not tell the preacher what was wrong; that if he was the real deal; God would have to give him a specific “word of knowledge” about my condition and approach me for healing, not the other way around. My husband was incredulous but agreed to go with me. I stood and wept silently throughout the entire service with tears streaming down my face, pleading with God to heal me so I wouldn’t have to face surgery. The preacher either didn’t notice me or was afraid to approach me. Whatever the reason, he made no reference to me and I left without having a miracle but still trusting the Lord.

I entered the hospital on October 8th, about a week before my 28th birthday. Next to me sat a young girl in the hospital admissions office that was facing open heart surgery. I decided I was glad that I was not having what she was but I was still apprehensive. My husband signed me in and they began prepping me for surgery the next day. The night before I had taken a colon cleanser (which resulted in another accident early the next morning before going to the hospital). That night there was no food, just a lot of antibiotic pills. So much so in fact that I ended up throwing them all up. Early the next morning I was wheeled down to surgery with my poor husband at my bedside. They had given me a shot of Demurral to calm my nerves and I was cracking jokes to the nurses. They wheeled me in, transferred me to the operating table and swabbed my entire abdomen with orange antiseptic. I remember counting backwards and only getting to 90. When I awoke from the anesthesia it was with a shock of pain. I couldn’t talk and could hardly take a breath, nor could I ask the nurses for more Morphine for the horrific pain while they discussed the latest videos they had rented.

They wheeled me up to my post-surgical room. My nurse was Stella and I’ll never forget how she hovered over me like a mother bird, putting pillows all around me, feeding me ice-chips and hooking up hoses and tubes to every opening in my body. Although I was weak I was very conscious of her exceptional care and was able to thank her months later face to face and tell her how much it had meant to me. I had a long vertical scar stretching from the bottom of my chest all the way down to almost my pubic area like a big zipper. I had a NG tube snaked down through my nose/throat into my stomach. I had a suction hose attached to where my rectum used to be and a large IV that was in my neck to feed me and hydrate me. And last but not least, I had an illesotomy bag and was catheterized to save me numerous trips to pass water in the bathroom.

I was only supposed to be in the hospital for 10 days maximum. I couldn’t eat anything at all for a few days then only clear liquids to start. Food and restaurant commercials on the TV were absolute torture. Slowly they began introducing bland food into my diet and on my birthday my surgeon had sent a birthday cake to me in my room but for some reason it tasted like dirt. I was warned that I would have a lot of gas so when I started experiencing a lot of pain and belching, I attributed it to gas. The night before I was supposed to be released, I was watching the world series with my husband in my hospital room. My husband was eating fast food as was his custom. The commute from his work and our home to the hospital every night was a good 30 miles each way. Suddenly I snatched away the empty Carls Jr. bag and threw up into it. That night my nurse spent the evening walking me around the corridor as I belched and belched, getting Demurral shots for the pain every 2 hours. The next day I was supposed to be released but instead of going home, I was given an emergency upper G.I. It’s bad enough when the stuff was cold but even more disgusting when the Barium is room temperature! I was writhing in agony at this point and not knowing what was going on. Hours later, the assistant surgeon told me what it was. Since my entire large intestine had been removed, during healing the small intestine had twisted itself into knots (referred to as a blockage) and could burst unless a second surgery was performed.

“Fine!” I said. “Do whatever you have to do; just fix it!” I remember just before being put under for the second time telling the Lord that I was committing my soul into His care should I not come out alive. I had the second surgery but this time instead of staples, they had to sew me shut the old fashioned way. Inhaling was even worse this time when I awoke. I felt like I had been hit by a Mack truck. Everything that could have gone wrong with me, went wrong. My NG tube fell out while I was getting my hair washed and it had to be put back in while I was awake (horrible procedure)! This time however, while I healed my bowels stayed in place.

My poor mother and father were at my hospital bed every single day (a long commute from Torrance) for what ended up totaling 30 days. They are not believers and couldn’t wrap their heads around the notion that we hadn’t paid the people who had come from our church to pray for the entire first 7-hour surgery and the second 5-hour surgery.

Through it all, though I was in a lot of pain, I entrusted myself and my soul to the care of my creator just like a little child; knowing that whatever did or did not happen, that I was in the center of His will. It has been over 20 years since I had that surgery and I have never regretted it. As a result, I have been able to alleviate the fears of one of my mother’s friends who was facing the same surgery and was scared to death. I changed my medical dressing right in front on him; showing him that it was really no big deal. Here I was a 30ish female, exposing my stomach with my cuffed small intestine sticking out through my skin and not acting like it was a big deal. It gave him a much needed lift and encouragement and he had the surgery. He never forgot this act of kindness and has since referred to me as his “angel”. I always told him to thank God, not me, because I did it for the Lord. Recently he was able to pay the same kindness forward as he did the same thing for a woman friend of his who also had to have the same surgery and he was so glad that he finally got his chance to do someone else the same favor.

Now I lead a very normal life; I eat whatever I want, going to the bathroom takes only minutes, not hours, I can’t have any more colonoscopies because I no longer have one and I’m off those horrible drugs which caused my older sister to have hip, shoulder and cataract surgery even though she had taken a lot less than me and for a shorter period of time. God brought me through the storm instead of flying me over it and while I would never want to have to repeat it, I don’t regret any of it.

SPECIAL NOTE: For those suffering with this horrid disease, a good friend, Angie Breidenbach, has developed a diet plan that has put her disease into remission. The link to her blog and her recipe book is here: http://ColitisCooking.blogspot.com

Tags: Disease, faith, physical trial, surgery

As a SoCal native, you have to go and see the Rose Parade, floats, etc., at least once in your lifetime. So last night (New Year’s Eve), my husband, his older brother and his son, Noah, my neice, her fiance, my daughter, and I traveled the 60 miles to Pasadena to get a close up look at the Rose Parade floats.

Thousands of people with sleeping bags, fire pits, games, and yes, even Wii’s lined the street a full 9 hours before the parade in bone-chilling cold (for SoCal that is) to get a good seat.

We parked and walked about 3 miles each way to where the floats were lined up with enormous Klieg lights. Most were finished but many were still being worked on. At midmight we got out dixie cups and sparkling cider and toasted in the New Year with a kiss.

Here are some pics below.

Tags: floats, New Year's Eve, Rose Parade