Country Mice
Ronald and I were reminded of the classic story about the city mouse and the country mouse on our recent excursion into Atlanta.
We are most definitely grouped among the simple, unsophisticated country mouse types. Mercy!
We arrived at the hotel the night before Ronald’s surgery. Thank the Lord for GPS! No problem getting there. Ronald pulled up to the front and got one of those big carrier jobs that never go the way you want them to. He piled my bajillion bags, cases, and everything imaginable onto it and pushed it to the registration desk. He hurried to move the car to the parking deck without receiving the proper instructions.
I had arranged for the room days ahead of time, but was super nervous about everything. I introduced myself to the young man and lady behind the counter. “Hello,” says I with a note of timidity causing my voice to quaver. “I am from the middle of nowhere, and we don’t have a clue what we are doing!” They must have thought I was teasing because they both laughed.
When I explained we were in Atlanta for Ronald to have a heart procedure, they sobered immediately. The young man gave me our keys and said I was good to go. The woman saw how full the cart was, looked at me with my walking stick, and knew I was going to need help.
Julia pushed the heavy luggage rack to the elevator and manuevered it in with hardly a hitch. She guided the cart and me up to the sixth floor, took the key and tried the door. Thank goodness she was with me! The door wouldn’t open because the security latch had fallen and blocked the doorway. She immediately guided the cart the other direction and made arrangements for us to go into another room.
I was so grateful for Julia’s sweet, helpful attitude – and her driving ability with that cart! She probably figured (and rightfully so) that the hotel’s walls would be in much better condition if she drove the thing instead of me doing it.
I settled in and unpacked a number of items as I waited for Ronald to come in from the parking deck. I waited and waited. And waited. Just as I was about to send out a search party for him, he was escorted to our room by the young man who had checked me in.
Ronald was in a lather and in his usual storytelling mode, he told of the trials that had assailed him in the parking lot. He finally found what he thought was a proper place to park, but he couldn’t find the proper elevator to the correct hotel. It’s too long to retell here, but that man was ready for a heart attack!
We decided on an early supper at a restaurant that we could see from the hotel’s front entrance. Under the circumstances, getting out into Atlanta traffic that time of night would have been foolish. Doing anything from somewhere that wasn’t a straight shot to the hotel door would have been disastrous!
We were seated at a nice table in a lovely Italian restaurant. As it was still early for most, there weren’t many people there.
It was interesting to people watch – as it always is. One couple, who had been quiet fellow travelers in the elevator with us, sat at a table opposite and played on their phones. Even though they ended up sharing a pizza, they shared little conversation. Of the other two tables of customers we could see, the scenario was the same. Whatever was on their phones seemed to be more interesting than their diner companions. Very sophisticated city folks, I guess.
Then there was me and the old man. We giggled our way through our check-in challenges and reminisced about me getting lost walking out of a parking lot the last time we came to Atlanta. By the time the food came to the table and we needed to say our thanks, we were both a little giddy. When Ronald prayed, “Dear Lord, thanks for the food and taking care of us because we SURE DO NEED IT!” we both lost it. I’m pretty sure God got a giggle or two as well.
Anyway, we snarfed up our food, had some more laughs, and went to our room to prepare for ‘surgery day’.
Though we were quiet, our fun, unsophisticated camaraderie may have been offensive to the more elegant diners. But it sure ‘nuf looked like we were having a better time than the rest of them!
And we can be sophisticated (sort of) when the need arises.
But we needed some light-hearted distraction. The ‘getting lost debacle’ turned into another funny story in the ongoing saga of the Countrified Huddleston Duo.
1Peter 1:6 may loosely apply to my story. ‘So be truly glad! There is wonderful joy ahead, even though the going is rough for a while down here.’ TLB
Blessings
Kara Beth
