Hope Deferred

Wednesday the 27th of October had finally arrived! Today marks three weeks from when Steven's mom sent his letter to me. You see, he mailed it with the letter to his parents, and they forwarded it on to me. Three weeks ago, to this day. I just knew it had to be here. However, rather than chance crushing disappointment yet once again, I decided to call ahead and see if I had any mail. My friend Emily took over the phone call after they couldn't understand my name, and the words came like Michael Buble music to my hears. A package....and, you guessed it, A LETTER! Words, words, words. No words. I was beyond excited. I jumped and screamed around the staff room with pure glee. Then I explained (in Spanish) that my boyfriend was very far away on a island near Japan, he has no phones or internet, and our only communication is letters. And that this was the first letter in 1 month and 20 days (not that I'm keeping track or anything..). The other teachers were ever so happy for me and quite amused by my display of enthusiasm. I think I must of told every other person I saw after that. More teachers, the cleaning ladies, a couple students. I knew it had to be his letter. As soon as 2:45 hit, I was out the door walking quickly to the post office with a smile beaming brighter than the sun.

When I arrived, the friendly lady with the kind round face greeted me. I greeted her with a smile even bigger than normal and asked how she was doing in a chipper voice. I didn't even have to inquire about my mail, she knows my name. She pulled out a large package and opened the book for me to sign. Then she mentioned something about the letter from my love that I was ever-waiting for. I asked about it, feeling a little confused. I tried to explain that I called earlier, and they told me that there was a package AND a letter. She checked with the other worker who went and looked, but still nada. No letter. I asked something to the effect of "truly?". Yes, no letter. I almost couldn't comprehend. I thought maybe it was an evil plot or that they weren't looking hard enough. I bent down to slip my driver's license in my backpack. When I stood back upright, the smile had slipped right off my face. Putting my feet one in front of the other, I walked out of the post office. I made it about eight feet outside the door and stopped. Clutching the hefty box to my chest, I tried closing my eyes just as tightly to no avail. The tears leaked out--I couldn't seem to stop them. How pathetic a sight--a little American girl in a awfully bright yellow shirt, with a awfully bright neon lunch box, sporting a pink and gray backpack, holding a big box--crying in the middle of the city.
I tried to stop, but it was no use. I plopped down on a step and decided to give myself a few minutes. However, time wasn't helping and after a few minutes I was simply crying more. I don't like crying in public, and I wanted very badly to be alone. But, I could not. I literally did not have the strength to try walking home. A woman and her little boy could see me from their parked red truck on the road. After a while, they came over to see how they could help. After tearful explaining, she took my name and went to talk to the post office workers again. She came back a couple short minutes later saying the same thing: no letter. She sat down on the step next to me, and I told her more about why this letter was so important and why I was so sad. One of my students, Wessly, and his mom came by. Then I had to explain again. Luckily his mom speaks English, so I didn't have to try in Spanish all over again. There were still a few misunderstanding. Nevertheless, talking to her, and listening to her talk about her life helped me calm down.

To my surprise, the whole time I talked to Wessly's mom, the first woman and her son stayed sitting next to me. Then she asked me where I lived. I told her, and she asked if she could give me a ride. I know, I know. You shouldn't ride in cars with strangers, but I liable to burst into tears without warning and too much of a mess to walk anywhere. I think this lady was more like my angel than a stranger. A jovial looking man in a blue and red plaid shirt walked up to the truck. She pointed him out with a smile as her "esposo" (husband).She gave me her phone number and said, "Amigas?". We all piled in the little truck and headed towards my house. I found out that she and her husband have been together for sixteen years and have four kids. She explained my entire story to her husband, and I was pleasantly surprised that she seemed to understand me perfectly. They were both very empathetic and sweet, telling me not to worry, it would come soon. When they dropped me off at my house, my new friend hugged me and told me not to cry. I thanked them for the who-knows-th time and hefted my backpack and package out of the back.

When I walked in the door, my first words were, "Don't even ask me about the letter, but here's what happened...". I managed to hold it together as I told my roommates of my adventure. Then I hurried to my room, finally a refuge after feeling so vulnerable out in the open. Trying to follow my new friend's advice and not cry, I dug into the thick tape on my package with my letter opener. My shaking breaths turned into laughing as I yelled for Kadian, and then Cia and Nelly--to come! Come and look and this! Steven's grandma and parents sent us so many wonderful surprises. I don't want to brag by listing everything, but wow! I am still stoked about it. We munched on some yogurt covered raisins right away. Cia and Nelly had never had them before; now, they are big fans. I did not even have time to unpack everything out of the box, because Cia and I needed to go to tutoring. I changed my shirt, splashed some water on my face, took a drink, and picked up my backpack again, out the door once again. As much as I wanted to stay home, being busy helps.

This afternoon was tough. My hopes were immeasurably high; I had no doubt that the letter was going to be in my hands. Then it wasn't. I think sometimes God lets us feel pain so that He can show us something even bigger. Something so beautiful that the pain is tolerable. I do not know if I'll ever see that family again. They probably just live ordinary lives, and that lady was probably just doing what she felt like was right. But all the "norms" aside, they were my angels today. I saw God in them. Though my hope has been deferred, unexpected  kindness and compassion leave my heart feeling full.