An Angel on Guard
 
During the summer of 2002 I had the wonderful opportunity of traveling to the East Coast and meeting an online friend with whom I had been conversing with for about 3 years.
 
We had a wonderful visit at her home in Connecticut and I saw the ocean for the first time in my life. I spent five relaxing days there with my friend and her family.
 
I needed to return to York, Pennsylvania in order to begin the drive home to Wisconsin with my oldest daughter and her two babies. My friend's husband had to work that day, so I booked a trip on a Greyhound bus from Connecticut to Pennsylvania, rather than asking him to drive me.
 
I boarded the bus at about 4 pm. and headed to New York City. It was early in the evening and as we entered New York, the sights were wonderful and brought back a longing for my 'hometown' of Minneapolis. 
 
I arrived at the downtown Greyhound station around 8:30 pm. It was larger than I had imagined and as I towed my luggage from one gate to the next, I wondered at the sights and sounds of the people of New York. When I got to my next departure gate, I found I was fourth in line. I had 90 minutes to wait until my next departure time.
 
The first person in line was an older Asian man, who was impeccably, but casually dressed and had only one small piece of luggage. He was engaged in conversation with the next person in line, a young Asian lady who I assumed to be his granddaughter or some other relation to him. They seemed to be traveling together.
 
The third person in line was a young black girl, traveling alone from Washington State to North Carolina. We struck up a conversation and passed the time watching each other's luggage while one of us went to get bottles of water from the vending machine.
 
As time passed, the station filled with people. So much so, that there was barely room to breathe and the thoughts of the vending machines quickly were cast away.
 
At last our bus arrived and we boarded, with our next stop being Baltimore, Maryland. The Asian man did not sit near the young Asian lady on the bus, and so I began to think that maybe they were not related, as I had imagined.
 
We arrived in Baltimore around 1:30 a.m. The city was gorgeous, all lit up in the middle of the night. The bus station was right downtown, and although the city was pretty, the bus station was not. It had two levels, the upstairs one being where the vending machines were located, along with seating areas. There were several 'street people' sleeping up there and I did not feel comfortable up there, so I stayed on the lower level where there were a few chairs. On occasion, street people would come into the station, cause a bit of trouble, and have to be escorted back out onto the street.
 
Buses came and went and within a short time, the young Asian woman and the black girl departed for other destinations. The Asian man remained at the station, and so I assumed he was waiting for the bus to Pennsylvania, the same as I was. He seemed very polite, although he never spoke a word to me.
 
As chance would have it, my next bus never arrived. Word had it that the driver in New York had not shown up for the job and the company was searching for another driver. The girl at the desk assured those of us waiting that another bus would be there soon. The minutes stretched into hours as the night wore on. I am a smoker, and every once in a while, I would go outside the station to smoke a cigarette to pass the time. Each time I went out, the Asian man would either hover by the doorway...as if waiting for me, or actually come outside and pace back and forth quietly until I went back inside.
 
When I could wait no longer, I stowed my luggage as far from other people as possible and went down to the lower level to use the restroom. It was at the end of a long hallway, with no other people in sight, and I thought to myself that one could get murdered down there and nobody would even know.
 
When I came back upstairs, there was the Asian man...standing guard over my luggage and smiling at me as I topped the stairs. I thanked him politely and thought what a nice man he was to watch my luggage while I was gone.
 
The hours passed and buses and people came and went. The only constant was myself, the Asian man, and a few other passengers waiting for the bus that never arrived. As people would stand and move about, occasionally I'd lose my seat, but just as often I'd find the Asian man offering me his seat when I returned, or hovering patiently until I came back inside after taking a smoke break.
 
Eventually, the other stranded passengers found other buses to take them on their way closer to their desired destinations. I remained at the bus station, fearful of not being in Pennsylvania at the time my daughter expected me there. Finally, as early morning broke, I phoned her and told her what had happened. She made the decision to drive to Baltimore and pick me up.
 
As I finished my phone call, there was yet another call to board a bus. It was a bus to New York City, and as I watched the people boarding, I saw among them the Asian man. At that moment, I thought how odd it was that this man had come from New York, only to turn around and return to New York.
 
I dismissed the thought and settled down in a chair to await my daughter's arrival. But I could not get that man out of my mind. I sat and thought about how he had definitely 'hovered' over me the whole time I was in that bus station. How only after I had made a definite plan, (by calling my daughter), had he boarded another bus. How he had watched my luggage and had offered me his seat several times during the long night. And how it was the oddest thing that he had come outside and quietly paced back and forth, each time I had gone out, until I came back into the bus station. But the biggest question my mind kept repeating was, why did this man turn around and go back to New York? Surely riding a Greyhound is not anyone's idea of fun!
 
I'll never know who the Asian man was. I'll also never know the possible danger I may have been in, nor what protection this 'Asian Angel' may have provided for me during that long night. I only know that I am eternally grateful for his service, and I hope, one day, we'll meet in Heaven so I am able to say "Thank You" to his face.
 
©2003