The Angel on the Bus
By Mimi, Oklahoma
A dear friend and I traveled from Oklahoma to Minneapolis for the annual ECK Springtime Seminar. Unfortunately, due to weather, our direct flight was canceled, and instead we had to take two flights, through Atlanta, to get to the seminar. I had been suffering from an inner-ear/dizziness problem for the last four years, and this was my first trip away from home. So, keeping my energy level and balance intact was critical. By the time we got through two bumpy flights and waited forty-five minutes for the hotel shuttle at the Minneapolis airport, my “low-energy-level light” was flashing red; I was very drained and had an upset stomach.
We got on the hotel shuttle, and I sat in the front seat. The shuttle driver was very kind but a rather erratic driver. The shuttle suspension was loose, and the heat was turned way up. By the time we had traveled about a half hour, I was turning green and breaking out into a sweat from car sickness. I took my jacket off, and I was breathing in and out and singing HU inwardly, trying to keep from getting sick. But I was losing the battle.
I warned the driver that I might have to have him pull the shuttle over to the side of the road, but he did not understand me well. I kept repeating my warning, and he said, “OK, only eight more blocks to the Hilton hotel.” I said, “I do not have eight more blocks in me.”
Then he said he had to drop off a lady at her apartment in one block. I figured while he let her off, I would have to jump off the shuttle and be sick on the road. Not a happy thought in the cold, wet weather that Wednesday night. But no choice seemed available.
When he stopped, a small, blonde lady went past me and said to me, “Do you need to come into my house?” I mumbled something like, “What, huh?” unclear about what she was asking me. She repeated, “Do you need to come into my house?” I realized then she was inviting me into her home to be sick. I mumbled, “I cannot impose on you for this.” This time she was more adamant. “You are sick; you need to come into my house!” I got out of my seat and climbed down, my friend behind me. The shuttle was to wait. She ran up to her building and let me into her beautiful apartment, which I could barely see through my bleary eyes. She pointed to the bathroom, into which I fled. No need for more details on that account.
I remember coming out and thanking her, although I was not really aware of looking at her. I do not know if she was an ECKist. My friend and I climbed back on the bus, and I sat down in my seat again. I profusely apologized to the bus occupants for my imposing on their time, knowing they too must be tired and wanting to get to the hotel. A deep soothing voice came from behind. “There is no need for you to apologize; we are all here to be in service to one another.” I smiled and replied, “Let me guess—you are on your way to a seminar this weekend?” He laughed and said, “Yes we are.”
I hardly remember our check-in. My friend did all the work, and I fell into bed at about 2:00 a.m. From the next morning on, my health and condition improved to near perfection, allowing me to attend two roundtables and a workshop, do some resting, and then happily volunteer as an usher on Friday and Saturday night. What a blessing from the Mahanta!
How many angels are there in this world who would invite a total stranger into their home in the middle of the night to be sick in their beautiful bathroom? This story is not only about the Mahanta’s protection and guidance, but to thank that lovely Soul, whom I may never know or meet, for her open heart, divine love, open house, and service to another Soul.