It was the first time for me to ever fly on my own. I had my tiny, leopard-print suitcase my mom had bought for me one Christmas long ago, my brand new Fox backpack (bought just for the occasion), and my two boarding passes: Odessa, Texas to Denver, Colorado. Denver, Colorado to Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada.
The feeling of climbing up the escalators and leaving my mom behind was a whole lot harder than I had imagined it'd be, probably because this time I didn't have my twin brother Taran with me to be my companion and help us figure out where to go next.
My brother and I lived in Canada for 8 months to attend bible school, and during Thanksgiving in November, we flew back to Texas to visit our family. On our way back to Canada, we made the forever-remembered and extremely hilarious mistake of eating breakfast tacos while our names were called for last-minute boarding on our plane to Denver. The story came to be: we accidentally watched our flight leave while we ate breakfast tacos. I'm not even sure if the taste was worth the extra six or seven hours it took to get back to Canada, but hey--it makes for a great story!
So it happened to be now that I was all on my own. Taran has a job lined up in Texas, and I have two very important people in my life graduating in the Land of the Frost Giants. So I bought me some tickets and ended up at the airport with my terribly-clashing suitcase and backpack.
I stepped through the Customs, where the official at the desk was kind enough to ask me if it was my first time flying by myself (He probably caught the hint with how wide my eyes peered at everything around us). He lead me through the machines and all that weird alien stuff and wished me safe travels. As I took a seat at my first gate, I immediately made friends (which a lot of people would say is to be expected from me!). They told me of their endeavors to reach Edmonton, Alberta, Canada and spoke to me in French when I asked if they could, which I had never heard in person before! They reassured me that flying on my own isn't as scary as it looks, and helped me find my way through boarding.
After only seven hours, I already landed in Canada! It was such a strange feeling because normally it would take about 22 hours to get there (if we drive). But when I walked outside, all my strange feelings materialized...and festered into something far stranger.
It's warm outside. And the grass is green.
I had only remembered this place as 8 months of winter. The frost giants only ever thrived in their tundras. But now, where have they all gone? Butterflies are fluttering, flowers are blooming, mosquitoes are singing the songs of their people...And now I am faced with a case of missing frost giants. I still have a few weeks left to look in to the freakish matter, and so perhaps I will keep you updated.
So, my fellow readers, as I continue to investigate the strange phenomenon of the disappearance of the frost giants, I will turn your attention back to the kindness I was shown on my brave journey through the airports I faced by myself.
I am very grateful that there were friendly people there to help ease my nerves, and to talk to me in French (because it was really cool!). They made my journey a fine one!
And most of all, I must conclude that going on a new journey is something every human heart needs every once in a while. And who knows? Maybe you are the person sitting in the airport who's flown a thousand times, but the person sitting next to you is afraid because it is their first. Get out of your comfort zone. Say hello in French if you can, or show them how to get through the boarding process without falling straight off the bridge into the plane. Whatever you can do to help!
But first, go on your own journey to show them how to not eat breakfast tacos before a flight.
Because it's stories like these that make an interesting life. And an interesting life is a fine life indeed!
