Nov. 8, 2009 - It was a bright and sunny morning...
Posted by Renee
It was a bright and sunny morning, and I was on my way to my flute lesson. My mom was driving, I was riding shot-gun, and Emma was sitting in the back seat working on her school. There were a few butterflies taking flight in my stomach, since I knew that I hadn't practiced much the past week, so I took a deep breath... and exhaled.
We turned the corner, where my mom dropped me off at my destination... the local highschool. This was where I would have my flute lesson with my wonderful teacher, Mrs. G. So I grabbed my flute and my books, opened the door and hopped out of the car. I walked quickly up to the big red doors which stood before me. Taking one last look behind me, I opened them and stepped inside.
Walking over to the blue door that opens up to the stairway, I looked to my right and saw another flute teacher and her student diligently working on a piece of music. Opening the door, I let it close behind me and started up the stairs. Skipping up rather quickly, for I was running a little late, I went to the first practice room. No Mrs. G. Looked in the second practice room, just the trumpet teacher and his student who looks vaguely familiar. Looked in the third practice room where Mrs. G. and I usually meet... no Mrs. G. So I looked in a few more practice rooms down the hall, but to no avail. Mrs. G. was nowhere to be seen.
Walking ever so quickly back the way I had come, I scurried down the stairs, through the blue door, down the hall and out the ever-looming red doors to the outside, with only a glimmer of hope that my mom hadn't left for the park yet. I looked around the parking lot and saw no tan mini-van in which sat my mom and sister. None at all. I leaned back against the brick wall of the highschool in despair, where I stood for what seemed like eternity. Then I figured that I would be safer inside, where there were people.
So I very nervously went back through those now-awful red doors, down the hall, through the blue door, and up the stairs ever so slowly... taking my time, as I now still had at least twenty minutes to wait for my mother's return. I took one last semi-hopeful glance into those starch-white practice rooms that I now so fearfully dreaded, and after seeing that there was no Mrs. G., nor would there be any Mrs. G. today, almost dropped all of my hope altogether.
And then I remembered that lyrics of a song about hope and where it can truly be found...
"In Christ alone my hope is found - He is my light, my strength, my song. This cornerstone, this solid ground - firm through the fiercest drought and storm... What heights of love! What depths of peace, when fears are stilled, when strivings cease. My Comforter, my all in all, here in the love of Christ I stand."
...and also this verse...
"And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose." (Romans 8:28)
And I knew that I wasn't alone. I knew that God was with me. But still the shock of being 'stranded' in a public highschool was very nerveracking, and I was afraid. It was like I was stuck in a living nightmare, and I was almost in tears. But I managed to hold it together, and when the trumpet teacher came and asked me about my presence in the school, I explained - with a bit of a shaky voice - that I was simply here for a lesson with Mrs. G. I asked him if she was here or not, though I knew the answer. He replied that he'd go ask around to see where she is.
Whe he came back, he replied that she was home sick. When I asked him if there was a phone I could use to call my mom, he gestured down to one of the teachers who told us to come around to the office. There he called Mrs. G. and kindly asked why she wasn't there. He let me talk to her, and she explained that her eyelids were really hurting, and that they had some blister-type-things on them. Now I knew. But I was still at a public highschool... alone... by myself... but now I had a phone in my hand - the phone which was the answer to my prayer - the only way to freedom.
As I dailed my mom's phone number, I was deeply trying to control myself... I'm not gonna' cry... I'm not gonna' cry...
Then I heard it - heard the thing which spoke freedom - the thing which belonged to the person with the car. I heard my mom's voice...
"Hello?"
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