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I was in a state of absolute panic when I realized that my traveling companion had left without me. We were on vacation together in Portugal and were scheduled to leave that morning to catch a train back to Denmark, where I was living at the time. I knew that she had been jealous of my having met an incredible man, but it had never occurred to me that she would just leave.
In a frenzy I started going through my backpack. We'd been keeping all of our money and our passports in the same traveling wallet, and the wallet was nowhere to be found. When I found my passport in a pocket of my backpack, I began to relax and think that this wasn't such a big deal. Then I realized that while she did leave my passport, she had taken all of the money that we'd both brought. This was a big problem. You see, Portugal is a four day train trip from the part of Denmark that I was living in. The first problem was that I had absolutely no food for the journey. The second problem was that one of the stops along the way is in Paris, where you have to change from the southern train station to the northern. In order to travel the distance between the two, you need to either take a subway or a cab. Both of which cost money. This was scary stuff.
I ran to the train station in a last ditch effort to catch up with my friend, but was unsuccessful. Feeling betrayed and afraid, I boarded the next train north where I sat down in an empty car. A few minutes later, a large Italian family came into the car. After they'd settled in, they took out a huge basket of food. The aromas were remarkable of each item that they took out. I did my best to look hungry and pathetic, not much of a stretch for me at this point, but they were oblivious. Just as I was summoning up my courage to ask for some food, another woman came into the car and sat in the last open seat.
She looked up and smiled at me. She had a wonderful, open expression. I remember it clearly, because I remember how annoyed I was with her. Here she was, beautiful, happy and probably carrying plenty of money, while I was about to suffer through a horrible trip. She either didn't see my grimace, or simply chose to ignore it, because in a very friendly, cheerful voice she asked if I was an American.
Completely irritated, I answered in Danish that I didn't speak English. By my calculation this should have ended the conversation since Denmark is a tiny country, and therefore Danish is not a common language to find in southern Europe. To my horror, she answered in Danish. Not the stubbling, bumbling, fractured Danish that I knew at the time, oh no, that would have been easy. No, this glowing young woman who sat before me was a native Dane.
Ugh! I have no idea what she said, as aside from not speaking the language well, I was busy being mortified. It was obvious that the only answer was to cop to my offensive lie. That was when the dam broke. I told her about my friend leaving me and that I was broke, etc. etc. When I had finished, she suggested that we travel together. She took out her wallet and after checking her resources, she stated that she had plenty to get the two of us up to Denmark. She added that we could eat a lot better if we ran to a store at the next stop, rather than paying the very high prices of on-board food. As she spoke, I felt all of my fear vanish. This was turning out to be a glorious adventure.
As we rolled our way through Portugal and Spain. We enjoyed non-stop conversation. By the time we reached Paris, where we needed to change stations, we were what I would call fast friends. But then an odd thing happened. We were running off of the train out into the chaos of the southern Paris train station. It was fairly late and the last train headed north was leaving from the other station in a short amount of time, so a lot of people were vying for cabs in a fairly aggressive manner. After a bit of jossling, I had a cab for us. At that point, I realized that we'd been separated so I began searching the area while keeping my body half in the cab. I spotted her, as she was trying to drag someone out of another cab. I found myself laughing while I tried to yell and get her attention. It was then that I realized I had no idea what her name was. As silly as it seems, we had been talking for days and never exchanged names. I was finally able to gain her attention by screaming, "Hey Dane!" Just as she looked up, her opponent gave up the cab she'd been competing for. She gave me a huge grin, while waving me over. It was my intention to immediately ask her name, but when we got into the cab, we both started laughing hysterically at how surreal the exercise of getting a cab had been. When I questioned her about dragging another traveler out of our cab, she assured me that she had been standing in the back door of the cab when he came along and literally pushed her down in order to get in the back seat. That was not a reasonable action, she said. We then got busy with checking the time of our train and the track number, so the subject of names never came up again.
We arrived in Hamburg, Germany, with somewhat heavy hearts. It was time to say goodbye. I remember standing in the deserted station, next to many empty tracks. I'll never know why things were so quiet, but I'll always remember the moment. I had tears in my eyes and could think of nothing worthy to say. I wanted to say thank you for being such a wonderful friend, thank you for being so generous, thank you for being there at that terrifying moment, thank you for the wonderful journey, thank you for being you, thank you for...but I couldn't speak. She nodded and reached out her arms. We fell into a hug that spoke volumes. "Goodbye", she said in her lyrical voice. "Goodbye," I whispered and I turned around to go find my train. It was only seconds later when I realized that I still didn't know her name. I whipped around, expecting to see her a few feet away, but she was gone. As I've said, the station was empty. There were no crowds for her to be lost in. There were no trains for her to be behind. In other words, THERE WAS NOWHERE FOR HER TO HAVE GONE. But she was. I ran all over the station, turning the task of finding out her name into a bit of a vendetta, but was unsuccessful.
Whenever I thought of this story, I always thought I was just nuts. I had no other explanation. Then one day someone was telling me that they had met an angel. As soon as the words came out of their mouth, my heart remembered that wonderful woman on the train and I knew that was the answer. I may still be nuts, but I will always believe that that wonderful woman was a direct gift from above.
-Carol Hamilton
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