It's the world we live in that made me feel that way. Otherwise I wouldn't have
thought for a moment about sitting next to that beautiful young girl.
My recent trip to Kentucky ran smoothly except for a near two hour delay in
Pittsburgh. I must admit I have never had a major problem while flying across
this great country. In fact, I believe this was the first time I have ever
experienced a delay that long.
But I always tell my travel agent that if ever I need to be delayed let it be in
Pittsburgh. They have the greatest shops and restaurants to keep me busy for
hours.
They finally announced boarding. Now I don't believe for a moment that I'm the
only person who goes through this. From the moment I enter the plane I start
scanning ahead to see my seat. "Who's sitting next to me on this flight?" I
wonder. "Is there anyone in my seat already?" That's happened a few times.
"Are there any screaming babies nearby?"
Flight time is precious time for me. I sleep, write or read. So screaming
babies and frequent bathroom people become a problem.
Today I get to sit next to a beautiful young girl who appears to be about 12
years old. As I approach my seat she seems nervous, perhaps a little
apprehensive and I must say very disappointed. You see walking in front of me
was this handsome young male teenager. I could see that sparkle in her eye dim
as he walked by and I sat down. I'll admit I was nervous and concerned. She
was traveling alone and I was one of those strangers her parents told her not to
talk to.
"Hi! My name is Bob," I said.
"Hello!" she replied without giving her name.
Then we spent the next one hour and fifteen minutes not saying a word.
She was a typical kid. She never sat still for longer than five minutes. Often
times she reached into her carry on and pulled out what appeared to be six
brushes, four packs of gum and all the empty wrappers, a bag filled with jaw
breakers, a tube of rainbow colored sugar crystals and three foot long licorice.
Oh, yes she also ate two bags of airplane peanuts. I gave her mine.
It wasn't until the last 15 minutes of the flight that I heard it. That sweet
sounding Voice that said "Give her one of your books!"
"She's only 12," I argued. "She won't find my book interesting. Do they even
know how to read at 12?" I thought sarcastically.
But again and again I heard it repeat, "Give her one of your books!" And so I
opened one up, signed it and said, "I am a professional speaker and author.
I'd like to give you one of my books if you would permit me."
She giggle a bit and said yes followed by "Oh, thanks!"
I then began to explain the story.
"It's a fictional story based on actual events. I changed the names but
basically much of this is true. My oldest son, Keith had cancer and that's part
of this book."
"Oh, I'm sorry", she said. "No need to be. He's doing just fine, thank you.
Where are you from?" I asked.
Then for the next ten minutes this young lady never stopped talking. In fact,
as we were leaving the plane she talked and walked backwards down the aisle.
Much of what she said was all a blur for me after she said these words: "Wow, I
just saw the Hershey Medical Center mentioned in there. Is that where your son
went for his cancer treatments?" she asked.
I nodded "Yes."
"That's where I had my heart transplant," she said with a big bright smile.
Heart transplant. This child had a heart transplant. Then I took notice. Right
at the top of her pink t-shirt, just below her collar bone, the beginnings of a
scar peeked over her collar. This vibrant young, beautiful girl had the heart
of a donor. Obviously a young donor who lived in a family who cared enough to
save another child's life.
She continued to share the details of her stay at Hershey. I continued to
listen in amazement. For the story she told was a familiar one. She was the
girl down the hall we all prayed for. I never knew how things turned out for
her until today.
They say some lives cross because they were meant to. This was more than a
chance meeting. I discovered that this child leaving Pittsburgh to go home to
Kentucky was a patient in the same hospital, on the same miraculous floor, at
the same time my son was there. That little Voice inside of me kept telling me
to give her a copy of my book. I argued. The Voice won...as always.
The last words she said to me was..."My Mom always told me that God was going to
call me home but then He had a "Change of Heart!" Do you get it?" Then she
giggled and laughed as she walked through the last door into the arms of her
loving family.
I got it. I heard the Voice say, "Now you know why!"
"I believe in you!"
Bob Perks © 2001
http://www.bobperks.com
