We sure had a wonderful adventure Saturday night. My parents were leaving for Canada and needed a ride to the airport 3 hours away. Since their flight was leaving on a weekend, it seemed like a good opportunity for Don and I to drive them. Most of the time, when they go on Mission trips, they fly out during the week and it's just not possible for us to drive them. Plus, it gave my siblings, their children and spouses a bit of a break.
The problem, of course, is that 3 hours one way means 6 hours round trip and that's a hefty drive for the children without something fun to do inbetween. We thought this would give us a wonderful opportunity to spend some time with my nephew who lives in Atlanta. We called him and found out he was coming home this weekend - a very rare occurrence. So that flew out the window.
We did all kinds of research on the Internet. We looked over just about every possibility of things to do. We considered the new Georgia Aquarium, Stone Mountain, Six Flags, Olympic Park ... In the end, Don decided we would just drive up, have dinner at a fun restaurant, and drive home. Their flight didn't leave until 5:30, which meant that paying for anything would be somewhat of a waste, since the day would be practically over before we arrived. But Don, who always has a heart to do fun things that will interest the children, did more leg-work than I knew about.
We took Grandma and Grandpa, got them checked in, said our good-bye's, went to the bathroom, asked directions, then loaded back up in the van and drove a couple of miles to College Park, a suburb of Atlanta. We parked the van at the Marta station in the free daily parking lot, bought tickets, and waited for our train. The train ride took 1/2 an hour and we disembarked at Lenox Mall in Buckhead, a very nice, ritzy part of the city. We walked through the Mall, out the other side, across the street and into the restaurant. On the way home, we walked half a block to a different station and caught our train back to College Park. I had rented a movie from the video store for the children, so we loaded up, I gave them popcorn that I had popped before we left, and put on the old version of "Yours, Mine and Ours" - the one with Henry Fonda and Lucille Ball. Don and I got a chance to talk while the children munched their popcorn and watched a movie. Daelyn fell asleep immediately and Dane didn't make it to the end of the movie.
The kids loved the train ride, the whole experience of the subway system and buying tickets, and watching on the platform for the train. We got so excited when we saw the train coming that we jumped on and forgot to check the destination. Sure enough, we were on the wrong train. Don got off at the next stop and talked to the Train Operator who gave us directions on how to rectify the problem. After he got back on, two young men on the train recommended a different way that seemed to make better sense. I told Don and he said that they road the subway a lot more than us, and we ought to try their way. We felt like a bunch of country-bumpkins, but that didn't even deter our excitement and sense of adventure. We just got to take another train.
I was amazed at how helpful people were. You could sure tell we were in the south and not D.C. or N.Y. I've traveled the subway in big cities before and no one speaks or even makes eye contact. Saturday, we had several experiences of being confused and discussing it with each other when a passer-by would overhear, stop, and offer advice. We were so blessed. It happened with every question we had. And in almost every case, we didn't ask anyone, they just heard us and volunteered the information. After making our return train trip, we got off at the College Park station, exited, and couldn't find our car. In fact, the exit didn't look like where we had entered and the parking lot was totally unfamiliar. We walked back to the exit and checked the name of the station to be sure we were at the right place. Yep, it was College Park. Don said he thought we must have walked out the wrong side of the station, but you couldn't get back through the turnstiles to cross over without purchasing more tickets. We were discussing whether or not there was any other way to cross over the tracks when a gentlemen, some ways away from us, called to us and asked if we had lost our car. We responded affirmatively. He walked over to us and told us that was a frequent problem and we could get the Marta attendant to let us back through so we could exit on the other side. He reassured us that we shouldn't be embarrassed, that it happened to even frequent travelers. You get mixed up and forget where you parked, he explained. We thanked him for his help, then sought out the attendant and got access to the other side. Like he had told us, it was no big deal. And everything on that side looked right. We quickly found our van.
I was amazed at how helpful people were. And everyone who helped us was African-American. There was no race barrier, just friendly southerners helping other southerners in need. It was such a blessing from the Lord and an amazing experience.
Since Deanna's "adventure" where we got lost in the woods returning from a funeral, she's been very reluctant to take adventures. She was a little nervous about the train and commented that it would be just our luck that the train would break down. This trip even restored her excitement about adventures and I think she'll face them in the future with a willing heart.
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