...at that moment my hero
This week has been a relatively interesting week. It has been a week where much has gone wrong, but it always turned out fine thanks to my friends. It was this week that I realized how very special and wonderful my friends here in Holland are. They aren’t just friends that like to hang out and laugh, but they are friends that are really there for each other. Let me tell you what happened.
Every Wednesday evening I go to what is called a “cell group” or a “home group”. It is a Bible study that is held between a certain number of people that come from our church. This past Wednesday there was a special meeting held at the church. It was for all of the cell groups that were made up the youth ladies (anyone confused there?). Being just such a person, I went. Sadly, Wednesday was a terrible day when it comes to weather. It rained a steady, heavy rain the whole day. Even more sad is the fact that the rain didn’t take a break when it was time for me to head to the church. And so I headed out on my faithful bike into the rain, and I rode the half hour to the church. Yes, the rain remained steady. And so, I arrived at the church fifteen minutes too early, soaked through (with the exception of the back of my legs), cold, and annoyed. I toyed with the idea of just going home but ended up staying (my friend, Marjon, promised to make me coffee if I stayed…sneaky girl! She knew that’d get me!).
I sat for the meeting and was quite wet for all of it. It lasted for about an hour and a half. By the end I was quite chilled through and ready to leave, so when they headed off topic and started talking about teachers at school I got up to go. Suddenly, anyone who hadn’t noticed before noticed now that I looked much like a drowned rat. When people notice these things they start coming up with ideas on how to get warmed up and stuff. That was nice, but I just wanted to go home and jump into a nice and very warm shower. So, I made my intentions know and began to throw on my jacket (which was wet inside and out!). Marjon saw my coat and made me trade coats with her. She’d come by car and was determined that I should at least have a dry coat for the ride home. After much resistance I finally put on the coat. I rode home through the rain, but I was much warmer thanks to Marjon’s selflessness. Marjon was at that moment my hero.
Now, when people trade jackets it isn’t a permanent switch. So there’s a point in time when they must trade back. Marjon and I both went to a birthday party Friday evening. We’d reached that point of trading back. I was staying longer at the party than Marjon. When she left the house she had about two minutes to get to the tram station before she missed her ride home. She had to run. Not long after Marjon left the house I received a phone call…on the house phone of the birthday girl. I have a mobile phone here in Holland, but I soon learned that the phone was in Marjon’s jacket pocket. My phone call was from Marjon. She informed me that my house keys were in her coat and that if I wanted them then I’d have to ride my bike as quickly as possible to the tram station to get my keys. We hung up. I threw on my shoes and started to throw on my coat when I realized that my bike was locked up, nice and safe, and the bike key was also in Marjon’s jacket pocket. Oh great! I couldn’t get to the station! I started to ask if I could borrow a bike when a friend, Sander, threw on his coat and shoes and rode to my rescue. He rode quickly to the station, got all of my stuff from Marjon’s pockets (no easy task because I keep everything in my pockets!), and rode back to the house. He gave me my things, and I could only say “thank you” a million times. Without this stuff I wouldn’t have been able to use my bike or get into my house. Sander was at that moment my hero.
I stayed late at the birthday party that evening. I had a wonderful time. Finally, at 1:30 in the morning, we die hards that were still at the house decided that it was time to leave. We helped to clean up the cups, food, and drinks. We put on our coats, scarves, and gloves. We said good-bye and headed out to the bicycles. I unlocked my bike and started to turn it towards the door when I saw that my front tire was entirely, 100% flat. Oh great!! I pointed it out to a friend and we started reviewing what my options were. Walking home was out of the question. It is a 20-minute bike ride, and girls don’t walk from one city to another at 2:00 in the morning. That’s just a stupid idea. I suggested we get a pump from Esther, the birthday girl. The guys, who know more than I do about this stuff, immediately informed me that by the time I was halfway home I’d have a flat tire again. Scratch that idea. So, we decided to tell Esther about the problem. She came outside, took a look at the tire, and told me that I could borrow her bike and leave mine at her house. We could switch again on Sunday. So, for the second time this week, I switched a belonging with someone because mine was inadequate. She showed me how to turn the lights on and off then went back inside. I had a bike to use to get home. Esther was at that moment my hero.
I and the six guys that were still hanging around each went our separate way. As I was riding away I heard my friend Arnoud calling after me. He caught up to me and asked me if I was planning on riding home alone. I answered that I was (wrong answer) and that I’d be fine because all of the bad guys that hang around the area would already be in bed (I used terminology more fitting for an adult, of course). However, this was not an acceptable answer or explanation or situation for Arnoud. He automatically offered to ride home with me and make sure that I made it home safe. We made it no problem and had a great time talking during that time. It’s most likely that nothing would’ve happened if I had been alone for the ride, but there’s still that chance that something terrible could happen. But I didn’t have to worry about those things that night. Arnoud was at that moment my hero.
Before I had left the house my friend, Mark, suggested that Sunday after church we could take my flat-tired bicycle to his house and fix it. I gratefully accepted the offer. So, today, Sunday, I went to church (not much of a surprise, really). I was able to give Esther her bike back. After church I practiced a drama with the drama team. After practice it was time for me to pick up my bike. Esther was gone with her bike, which is a perfectly natural thing. Mark and I decided that he’d bring me to Esther’s house. I would sit behind him on his bike. This is a very common thing here in Holland. I consider it an amazing feat for the driver to control a bike with an extra 125 pounds sitting behind him that occasionally moves and gets in the way. You have to be very good with staying balanced!! Amazing indeed! So, we made it to Esther’s house finally. I got my bike, and we began walking (actually, Mark biked at an extremely slow rate so that I could keep up with him while walking). We had a very pleasant walk/ride full of conversation about stuff.
Finally, we were at Mark’s house. Before we wrestled with the bike we decided to have a nice and warm cup of tea. Good idea. After drinking the tea we got to work. Actually, he got to work and I watched and pretended to help occasionally. It was much like what you’d see in an operating room. The doctor (Mark) is working on the patient (Bike) and the nurse (Sarah) hands over the proper tools. The bike wasn’t entirely cooperative at first. We tried to find where the hole in the tire was, but it didn’t work. After we put the tire back together and pumped up the tire we heard a very large amount of air leaking out. Uh-oh. There was a definite problem. We called Mark’s father because we feared that the problem was much worse than we’d first anticipated. Thankfully, it wasn’t worse. We had just missed the hole the first time we checked. We pulled apart my front tire (literally!) and fixed it by gluing a sticky rubbery kind of thing over the little hole. Finally, my bike was fixed. I was able to ride it home. Mark and his dad did a superb job. Mark and his father were at that moment my heroes.
Yes, you often hear people use the term, “That’s what friends are for.” But very few people have friends that actually understand what that statement is supposed to mean. I am blessed with numerous friends that understand what it means. And I can only hope that one day I am able to equally bless them. They’ve astounded me. I suppose that the best friends that you can have are the ones where you one day get to say, “so-and-so was at that moment my hero!”
Every Wednesday evening I go to what is called a “cell group” or a “home group”. It is a Bible study that is held between a certain number of people that come from our church. This past Wednesday there was a special meeting held at the church. It was for all of the cell groups that were made up the youth ladies (anyone confused there?). Being just such a person, I went. Sadly, Wednesday was a terrible day when it comes to weather. It rained a steady, heavy rain the whole day. Even more sad is the fact that the rain didn’t take a break when it was time for me to head to the church. And so I headed out on my faithful bike into the rain, and I rode the half hour to the church. Yes, the rain remained steady. And so, I arrived at the church fifteen minutes too early, soaked through (with the exception of the back of my legs), cold, and annoyed. I toyed with the idea of just going home but ended up staying (my friend, Marjon, promised to make me coffee if I stayed…sneaky girl! She knew that’d get me!).
I sat for the meeting and was quite wet for all of it. It lasted for about an hour and a half. By the end I was quite chilled through and ready to leave, so when they headed off topic and started talking about teachers at school I got up to go. Suddenly, anyone who hadn’t noticed before noticed now that I looked much like a drowned rat. When people notice these things they start coming up with ideas on how to get warmed up and stuff. That was nice, but I just wanted to go home and jump into a nice and very warm shower. So, I made my intentions know and began to throw on my jacket (which was wet inside and out!). Marjon saw my coat and made me trade coats with her. She’d come by car and was determined that I should at least have a dry coat for the ride home. After much resistance I finally put on the coat. I rode home through the rain, but I was much warmer thanks to Marjon’s selflessness. Marjon was at that moment my hero.
Now, when people trade jackets it isn’t a permanent switch. So there’s a point in time when they must trade back. Marjon and I both went to a birthday party Friday evening. We’d reached that point of trading back. I was staying longer at the party than Marjon. When she left the house she had about two minutes to get to the tram station before she missed her ride home. She had to run. Not long after Marjon left the house I received a phone call…on the house phone of the birthday girl. I have a mobile phone here in Holland, but I soon learned that the phone was in Marjon’s jacket pocket. My phone call was from Marjon. She informed me that my house keys were in her coat and that if I wanted them then I’d have to ride my bike as quickly as possible to the tram station to get my keys. We hung up. I threw on my shoes and started to throw on my coat when I realized that my bike was locked up, nice and safe, and the bike key was also in Marjon’s jacket pocket. Oh great! I couldn’t get to the station! I started to ask if I could borrow a bike when a friend, Sander, threw on his coat and shoes and rode to my rescue. He rode quickly to the station, got all of my stuff from Marjon’s pockets (no easy task because I keep everything in my pockets!), and rode back to the house. He gave me my things, and I could only say “thank you” a million times. Without this stuff I wouldn’t have been able to use my bike or get into my house. Sander was at that moment my hero.
I stayed late at the birthday party that evening. I had a wonderful time. Finally, at 1:30 in the morning, we die hards that were still at the house decided that it was time to leave. We helped to clean up the cups, food, and drinks. We put on our coats, scarves, and gloves. We said good-bye and headed out to the bicycles. I unlocked my bike and started to turn it towards the door when I saw that my front tire was entirely, 100% flat. Oh great!! I pointed it out to a friend and we started reviewing what my options were. Walking home was out of the question. It is a 20-minute bike ride, and girls don’t walk from one city to another at 2:00 in the morning. That’s just a stupid idea. I suggested we get a pump from Esther, the birthday girl. The guys, who know more than I do about this stuff, immediately informed me that by the time I was halfway home I’d have a flat tire again. Scratch that idea. So, we decided to tell Esther about the problem. She came outside, took a look at the tire, and told me that I could borrow her bike and leave mine at her house. We could switch again on Sunday. So, for the second time this week, I switched a belonging with someone because mine was inadequate. She showed me how to turn the lights on and off then went back inside. I had a bike to use to get home. Esther was at that moment my hero.
I and the six guys that were still hanging around each went our separate way. As I was riding away I heard my friend Arnoud calling after me. He caught up to me and asked me if I was planning on riding home alone. I answered that I was (wrong answer) and that I’d be fine because all of the bad guys that hang around the area would already be in bed (I used terminology more fitting for an adult, of course). However, this was not an acceptable answer or explanation or situation for Arnoud. He automatically offered to ride home with me and make sure that I made it home safe. We made it no problem and had a great time talking during that time. It’s most likely that nothing would’ve happened if I had been alone for the ride, but there’s still that chance that something terrible could happen. But I didn’t have to worry about those things that night. Arnoud was at that moment my hero.
Before I had left the house my friend, Mark, suggested that Sunday after church we could take my flat-tired bicycle to his house and fix it. I gratefully accepted the offer. So, today, Sunday, I went to church (not much of a surprise, really). I was able to give Esther her bike back. After church I practiced a drama with the drama team. After practice it was time for me to pick up my bike. Esther was gone with her bike, which is a perfectly natural thing. Mark and I decided that he’d bring me to Esther’s house. I would sit behind him on his bike. This is a very common thing here in Holland. I consider it an amazing feat for the driver to control a bike with an extra 125 pounds sitting behind him that occasionally moves and gets in the way. You have to be very good with staying balanced!! Amazing indeed! So, we made it to Esther’s house finally. I got my bike, and we began walking (actually, Mark biked at an extremely slow rate so that I could keep up with him while walking). We had a very pleasant walk/ride full of conversation about stuff.
Finally, we were at Mark’s house. Before we wrestled with the bike we decided to have a nice and warm cup of tea. Good idea. After drinking the tea we got to work. Actually, he got to work and I watched and pretended to help occasionally. It was much like what you’d see in an operating room. The doctor (Mark) is working on the patient (Bike) and the nurse (Sarah) hands over the proper tools. The bike wasn’t entirely cooperative at first. We tried to find where the hole in the tire was, but it didn’t work. After we put the tire back together and pumped up the tire we heard a very large amount of air leaking out. Uh-oh. There was a definite problem. We called Mark’s father because we feared that the problem was much worse than we’d first anticipated. Thankfully, it wasn’t worse. We had just missed the hole the first time we checked. We pulled apart my front tire (literally!) and fixed it by gluing a sticky rubbery kind of thing over the little hole. Finally, my bike was fixed. I was able to ride it home. Mark and his dad did a superb job. Mark and his father were at that moment my heroes.
Yes, you often hear people use the term, “That’s what friends are for.” But very few people have friends that actually understand what that statement is supposed to mean. I am blessed with numerous friends that understand what it means. And I can only hope that one day I am able to equally bless them. They’ve astounded me. I suppose that the best friends that you can have are the ones where you one day get to say, “so-and-so was at that moment my hero!”
2 Comments:
wowsers! what a week ... doesn't it stink how that is ... right before leaving any place, I've always been reminded of great it would be to stay! Uh! I hate that! Well, except for the time they were shooting at me in Haiti ... that was a definite exception! I'm sure you will have a hard time going ... but depart well and you will have reason to return. Grace ;)
Yup, doubtlessly one of my more exciting weeks. But Grace, I'm still definitely looking forward to our coffee talks together! See you soon!!
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