Hello world!
Well, Monday was the day that we came back to our home-state for the Winter Break.
Just gotta say that planes and airports suck. Butts.
The whole ordeal, from the moment we arrived to the first airport to the moment we left the last one, took at least 6 hours, according to my calculations. UUUUUUUGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH.
My sister and I didn't go to bed until 3:30 AM.
So, our prob, Bob, was that we always have to do two connecting flights. We usually get hours in between the plane, which is not fun, but this time we ended up having less than an hour. That's scary enough, right?
Of course, our first flight got delayed at least half an hour.
While we were waiting to get on, I saw my sister fold her arms and incline her head to pray. For some reason, that surprised me. I guess because I actually wasn't worried at all. Irritated, since they always delay flights, but not worried. I decided to follow her example, anyway, and prayed that we would be able to make it to our next plane, too. I just felt more surer that we were fine by doing so. (...Surer really is a word??)
There was also another lady by herself that had the same planes as us, and she said the only way for us to make the second flight was if it was delayed too (which happens too often! *angry grumbles*)
The plane, of course, sucked. But my dad had had me bring some foam ear plugs for everyone because it can be quite loud in a plane. I felt better while wearing them, but it was harder to figure out what people were telling me. They probably had to basically yell at me. *sweat drop*
As the stewardess announced we were soon going to be declining, my sister turned to me and told me their plan. (She had been listening to my parents discussing.) They wanted my dad to run as soon as they let us off the plane to our next gate to, hopefully, get a few minutes for the rest of us (and the other lady) to get onto the next plane. She asked if I was willing to run with him.
It may seem a shock, since I'm usually a pretty slow runner that can barely endure a few minutes, but I'm still the youngest, and, therefore, the most in-shape out of my family. If someone has to go down the huge hill that is our driveway for the mail, it's usually me. If someone has to go get something really fast from the other end of the store before it's our turn in the checkout line, it's usually me. I don't really mind because it makes sure that I am getting at least a little bit of exercise, and it boosts my self-esteem whenever I somehow manage to get the burst of energy needed to pull it off in the shortest time possible. Despite the fact I like to laze around, I still have the urge to go work off any sugar I'd had during the day through jumping or skipping or a leeeetle bit of running. I'm still a kid at heart!
I immediately agreed to running with him. In fact, I thought it might even be better to go alone, but they said no. They told me to just carry a few coats so that I don't have to lug one of the carry-ons while (trying to) sprint.
My sister found a map of the Houston airport on the back of the seat in front of her, and we located the next gate. Fortunately, it was in the same terminal. Unfortunately, the Houston airport is HUGE. Even just going to the other side of the same terminal was quite a distance. I felt I could do it, though.
The plane landed, and we were all itching to run out. We zoomed into the aisle as soon as we could, doing tiny mental prayers and feeling very impatient. After all, it could already be too late, and there wouldn't be another flight home for a few days. Either now or after Christmas, which I would NOT let happen.
We finally could escape the tiny airplane, so my dad and I gingerly paced to the middle of the interval. I looked back behind me, saw my dad was ready (with a carry-on) to go, so I ran. Having already seen the map with the easy route, it was impossible to get lost. Getting too tired was the issue.
Every time I was going to turn a corner, I slowed down and glanced behind me to check my dad could see me before running again. I wanted to go faster, but I didn't want to lose my dad, and I didn't want to alert anyone too much by zooming past them frantically like that. (It seemed a bit ironic when I saw a few families running together in the opposite direction as me.)
It seemed I was so close a few times, but then there were really long hallways. There was one that was seriously just a looong strip of carpet to get to the cluster of gates. I was like "ARE YOU FLIPPIN' KIDDING ME?!" and sighed frustratedly as I ran once again.
I FINALLY made it to the gate, that indeed had our destination written on the digital sign (Is that what they are called?). There was still two people behind the gate's desk and some other airport person with a Hispanic family and one or two others about to board. I panted to the first lady at the desk.
"Um, excuse me?..." I (sort of) had her attention. "Our plane from Alabama got delayed a lot, and there's me and 4 other people that were on there that are supposed to be on this flight. We HAVE to be on this plane." I glanced behind me to see that my dad was near the gate, and I pointed to him. "See, he's one of them."
The lady asked a few more questions to my dad, so he elaborated just a little more than me. She asked if they were coming, and we said "Yeah, right now."
Indeed, just one or two minutes later, my mom, sister, and the gray-haired lady came running up with their bags. (I didn't know they could be so fast.) It was such a relief to all of us that the airport people waited a few more minutes. I was grinning as I gave my ticket and passport to the guy who lets us through the gate. I was still panting a bit as we scooched through the aisle to our seats near the back of our second plane. We all celebrated almost-silently before we took off into the sky.
When my dad later told the tale, he said that they were about to give our tickets to that Hispanic family. If I had arrived just a minute later, we wouldn't have made it home.
Although Monday was really tiring, I've enjoyed our time here a lot. It's turning out to be one of my favorite Winter Breaks ever.
Today's Christmas! Merry Christmas!
Remember the true meaning of Christmas- Christ. And not just His birth, but everything before, during, and after his mortal life, and his Second Coming that grows nearer and nearer. I know that He lives, and that the true church exists today. I am a proud member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. He and Heavenly Father love us very much, and wants us all to be saved. If you work, you can be one of the saved. That means following the commandments, going to church on Sundays, repenting, praying. Try your best to be close to God and you will be. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.
No comments:
Post a Comment