Nuisances that a person would normally brush off take on a different urgency when you’re trying to catch a flight

The Background

An acquaintance who has been in touch in the past sent me this story about her granddaughter going through an amazing chain of events.

MY granddaughter had been visiting us in Israel and was on her way to the airport to catch her flight back to the States. She was going to take a bus to the train to the plane. She had left for the bus stop with plenty of time to make the train that would take her directly to the airport.

The bus ride should have been a simple journey — a few minutes to the train station. But the bus she boarded had a new driver who didn’t know the route. As they meandered through the wrong streets, my granddaughter began to worry that she was going miss the train to the airport.

When the bus finally pulled up at the station, my granddaughter discovered that her train was late. She could make it to the airport on time for her flight. She found a seat on the train and sank into it gratefully — hoping that the next leg of her trip would be smoother.

The train made good time, and the driver knew the way. As they approached the airport station, my granddaughter gathered her luggage and made her way to the door. The train rolled to a stop and she pressed the button to open the door.

The door didn’t open. She pushed the button again. It still didn’t open. She pushed the button frantically, but the door wouldn’t budge — it was stuck. Realizing she had a precious few seconds to disembark before the train departed for the next station, she grabbed her luggage and ran to the next door.

It was too late. The doors had already closed, and the train was rolling out of the airport station.

Nuisances that a person would normally brush off take on a different urgency when you’re trying to catch a flight. The whole story was like one of those bad dreams where you’re running to get somewhere and never reaching your destination. My granddaughter was very distraught.

Another passenger, a very nice (not yet religious) woman, saw what happened and tried to comfort her.

“Get off at the next station,” she said, “cross over to the opposite platform, and get on the next train going back to the airport station.”

“What should I do if no train arrives? I don’t have any Israeli money left.”

“No problem,” said the woman, reaching into her purse. “Here’s 70 shekels in case you need a taxi.”

“How should I pay you back?”

“Don’t worry about it. If you need a taxi, use the money. Otherwise, just give the money to tzedakah.”

Thanking the kind woman, my granddaughter accepted the 70 shekel. Then she got off the train at the next stop. Another woman accompanied her to make sure she went to the right platform. Although it had been a challenging trip, she was getting the chance to meet some pretty incredible people.

To my granddaughter’s immense relief, a train headed for the airport soon pulled into the station. When she finally got to the airport, she found the long line to check in for her flight. As she inched along with the crowd, she noticed a poor man going from person to person asking for money.

When he reached my granddaughter, she pulled out the 70 shekels.

“It’s your lucky day,” she said, and handed him the money.

As she passed through security, my granddaughter reflected on her harried journey. Hashem had arranged the whole trip — the meandering bus, the nonfunctional train door, the wrong station, so that a woman she had never met before would give her tzedakah money to pass along to a man she would probably never see again.

She made her flight. And she also completed the itinerary Hashem had planned for her.

(Originally featured in Mishpacha, Issue 1038)