Wednesday, 10 July 2013

From Russia with love

Our Russian Waterways cruise from St Petersburg to Moscow had been amazing. Now we were homeward bound in Moscow’s busy Domodedovo airport. But after 12 days of sight seeing, my husband’s trusty tripod stick, on which he could perch and take the weight off painful knees while waiting in line, was rather the worse for wear, and the line waiting for Security clearance seemed endless.

We had somehow become separated from the rest of our Tour Group and we were both wishing that we had asked about a wheelchair.  Unbeknownst to me, Gordon breathed a prayer for help. ‘Lord! Help! I don’t know how I’m going to manage this.’

A Russian lady in a blue jacket, who was standing behind us, commented on the long wait and we agreed that it was even worse than London. We turned to face forward again, silently estimating how much longer it would take us to reach the unsmiling individual who manned the barrier. Suddenly our acquaintance tapped Gordon on the shoulder. ‘Come’ she said firmly, beckoning us forward. We followed her cautiously, wondering if she was some undercover security official. She marched us firmly to the front of the queue, brushing the other passengers aside, said something to the Security clerk and we were ushered through the barrier like VIP’s.

Our next task was to get our Passports stamped by Emigration. There were two lines, one for Russian nationals and one for foreigners. You can guess which queue was the longest!  We had just joined it, resigning ourselves to another long wait, when our blue jacketed friend re-appeared. ‘Come’ she commanded. We demurred, pointing out that we had British passports, and the line to which she was attempting to usher us said ‘Russian passports only.’ But she would have none of our protests. Our fellow  travellers stepped aside meekly, and our passports were checked without comment. As we turned to thank her, I asked if angels always wore blue jackets in Moscow airport. But she was no longer there.

I have a feeling that God sent an angel to help us that day. What do you think? have you ever had a similar experience? If so I’d love to hear about it!

1 comment:

  1. Such a good reminder of what can happen when you ask for God's help! Throughout my twenties I was much better at turning to God than I am now. Since getting married and then becoming a mother, I've gotten into the (bad) habit of taking on the world myself. Think of all the angels I've put out of work, and all the hardships I've weathered alone. Thank you for sharing your experience, Marion. I won't forget it.