Denise Gracias
It was late afternoon, and we had just arrived in the resort town of Antalya on the Mediterranean coast. My friend, Glynis and I were on holiday in Turkey. Not knowing the country at all, and in an era before the emergence of cell phones and video chats, we had opted to be safe and take a tour with a local guide and a bus load of strangers, mostly Americans. Both in our early thirties, it was the first time we had traveled together and the first time taking a group tour. So, it took time to get used to things. Now, here we were two thirds through the trip, quite comfortable with each other and the American strangers were not so strange any longer. Having overcome jet lag, we were now caught up with the fast pace of the tour and could fully enjoy the country, climate, and beautiful culture.
It was about four o clock in the afternoon and our tour bus pulled up to the Dedeman hotel. The guide gave the usual instructions; wait in the lobby for your room key; luggage will be delivered to your room; dinner at six in the patio. Having heard this so many times, we usually turned off our attention. But when he suggested a walk along the scenic coast with great clothing shops, we looked at each other and knew it we were in. After having been confined to the interior of the land, and seeing one archaeological site after another, the thought of a stroll along the Mediterranean sea was inviting. So, it was agreed, a pre-dinner shopping spree along the beach was next on our itinerary.
As we headed out of the hotel, the sky was bright turquoise blue with a purplish haze along the sea. Chatting with excitement, we proceeded on the boardwalk, strolling in and out of the quaint shops, catching glimpses of blue water and sandy beach in the background. Each shop was unique but way beyond our budgets.
One of the things Glynis and I had learned about each other on this trip was that we had both recently embraced our faith. Nothing astounding had happened, no great trial, no miracle, no “come to Jesus” moment. I had worked abroad for several years in the pharmaceutical industry and being alone in a foreign country, I had leaned on God more than before. Glynis was overwhelmed as a teacher but found strength by spending more time with God. We had just realized that we had been living comfortable lives, but there was an emptiness inside us that could not be filled, not even with a great guy or a great job. We yearned for something more and found it in having a deeper relationship with God. As one story led to another, time whizzed by. After half an hour, I stopped and looked around us.
“Glynis”, I interrupted her mid-sentence. She was ahead of me two steps and stopped. “Have you noticed?”
“What?”, she looked around bewildered.
“We’ve been walking down this street for at least half an hour, and I don’t remember having seen or passed a single person”. We looked around. Buildings were in various stages of disrepair or reconstruction. There was an eerie silence as it was quite clear that not a single building looked like it held inhabitants nor business. I recalled that we had crossed the road, when the shops ended, and turned onto the next street, in the direction back to the hotel. Logically, it should lead back to the hotel, but the hotel looked so far away. How could a street like this exist so near a popular touristy area? I could feel the tiniest particle of fear introduce itself in the back of my mind. But I immediately dismissed it.
“Should we go on?” Glynis asked, “Or head back?” She was open to both, it seemed.
“I don’t know”, I stated honestly. “If we go back, it will take us thirty minutes at least, and then another forty-five to the hotel”. The idea of walking back this lonely route and then having to go back that busy street did not appeal to me. Besides, we would be late for dinner, and we were getting hungry. This street had to gear towards the hotel, or at least nearby it. Most probably another block or two, and we would be seeing the way to the hotel. Do we take our chances and keep going or go back the same way we came and be late for dinner?
“Let’s keep going”, I made an executive decision, trying to sound confident. “I am sure in another block or so things will look normal”. Silently we took a step forward proceeding with a keen vigilance of our surroundings hoping to hear a horn beep, the murmur of a crowd, a siren, any sign of life. Instead, we were met with an onslaught of construction block after construction block going into the distance.
We were trudging gingerly and cautiously, looking ahead, around and sometimes behind straining our eyes to see some human movement, or light ahead, when something compelled me to look down.
“Watch out!” I gasped in shock. Just a foot in front of us was a manhole, wide open with no signs to warn anyone. I had to stop and take a deep breath. Had either or both of us fallen in there would be no help and nobody would ever know. We had not even told anyone where we were going. That little particle of fear that was trying to break free had been slowly silently set free and was now quite palpable, but I tried to remain calm. We walked around it and continued a few more blocks. Did this street ever end or even turn? It seemed to only get more desolate and drearier, and the sun was beginning to set. The Dedeman Hotel, our beacon of hope, was at least still in view ahead of us.
“Denise!”, Glynis screeched, stopping abruptly behind me. As I turned to her, I saw her eyes were closed tightly. Her hands clenched as she grimaced in pain. “I have sand in my contact lenses. I can’t see”.
“What can I do?” I asked, hoping there was a remedy. We had no water, food, medications, nothing whatsoever.
“I can’t take it. It hurts so much.” Her voice began to falter, “ I feel dizzy, like I am going to faint. I don’t think I can walk anymore”. I had never known that a speck of sand under a contact lens could cause so much suffering. Tears were starting to stream down the side of her face. Was it a natural reaction to irritated eyes or was she crying in frustration? I didn’t ask. Glynis was taller, bigger and much stronger than me. If she fainted, I could not carry her anywhere. I could not leave her alone either. Panic started to push its way forward, but I pushed it right back down and slammed the lid shut. It just would not help in any way.
“Glynis”, I spoke gently. Seeing a strong wooden fence along the roadside, I took her by the hand and placed her in front of it. “Lean against this and put your head down. You will feel better soon.”, I promised, and then added, “And I’ll think of what we’ll do next. “ though I had absolutely no idea.
I stepped onto the middle of the road and assessed the area, looking both ways. There were still incredibly long stretches of road with no end in sight both ways. The Dedeman Hotel towered in the distance beyond. But was it farther now? How could we get so lost so close to our destination? We had been talking about our faith in God, of all things, and now we were in danger. How could this be? How could God allow this to happen? I had to ask.
“God, “ I looked up at the vast sky that was now grayish blue with the sun almost set. “It is starting to get so dark. We are lost and now my friend is not well. I don’t know what to do. Please….help us. We need your help”. It was a pure plea from my heart. Does God really answer prayers or pleas? Did I truly believe in Him? I fought back the tears. I had to remain strong for Glynis and my own mental health.
I had barely lowered my head when I began to feel a slight tremor under my feet. It was very gentle at first but grew stronger till it became more rapid. To my left, I could see movement, a white dot, getting bigger as it came nearer. I began to hear a noise, the rumbling of an engine coming.
“A car is coming!”, I exclaimed to Glynis. She still had her head down. She slowly lifted it up as if waking from a deep asleep. I got ready to flag it down and plead for help. There was a sign on top of the car, “Taxi”. I prayed it was not occupied. Otherwise, not knowing the gravity of the trouble we were in, the driver might drive right past us in transit. I stood in the middle of the road hoping the driver would not ignore me and go around, or even worse, hit me. But the car slowed down and stopped. No passengers were in the backseat. The driver leaned over across to the front passenger side and manually rolled the window down. I peered in grabbing a tight hold of the bottom of the window, making sure it was not my imagination. A dark eyed young man, with a dark hair and wavy mustache was kindly smiling up at me. My overwhelming sigh of relief was met with his calm demeanor.
“Can you take my friend and me to the Dedeman hotel?” I didn’t know if he knew English or not. He nodded once maintaining his relaxed mood, not aware of how heroic he was.
“Glynis! There’s a taxi here.” I returned to her hand and gently escorted her. She seemed dumbfounded.
“A taxi?”, she muttered. “Denise,” she grunted with a slight smile, “I didn’t even pray.”
“I prayed for both of us.” I stated boldly and abruptly, opening the back door. As I swung into my seat, I noticed under the “Taxi” sign, it was written, “Dedeman hotel”.
The taxi started to move. I was able to see that the street continued for a long distance more, much longer than we could have walked before dark. However, I would not let myself consider what might have happened. We were safe. No need to think about that. I remained quiet and meditative as Glynis conversed with the taxi driver.
“How much?”, I asked the driver, as I looked up at the lit-up sign, “Dedeman Hotel”, which had been so far for too long. I knew we could charge the taxi ride to our room if we wished.
“That’s okay,” he smiled, shaking his head. When I tried to inquire, Glynis took me by the arm saying she would explain. As we went to our hotel room, Glynis told me that the driver had just dropped a hotel guest off and was on his way back to the hotel for another pickup when he saw us. Since we were on his way, there was no charge. He never asked why we were in the middle of nowhere, nor did we ask him why he chose a route that was not short nor scenic.
Upon reflection that evening, I thanked God for answering my prayer promptly and perfectly, by not just sending a car just when we were most in need, but a taxi dedicated to the very hotel where we stayed. As we got ready for dinner, I tried to figure out how Glynis and I had been so careless that we lost track of our surroundings. We had been having such a lively conversation about our faith journeys. So much that we became oblivious to our surroundings, finding ourselves in danger and desperate need of help. Had that taxi driver not come, this story might not have ended well or even been written. In times of trial, I had always turned to God, but this was not a trial that needed to be endured. This was a dangerous situation where our decision making, and composure was critical to surviving. Was God challenging our faith? I do know that I never gave into panic. Neither did Glynis. There was something or Someone that kept us going, trying, looking, persevering, and finally praying. Perhaps God wanted us to see that when push came to shove, our faith was strong enough. Or maybe He just liked our faith sharing and wanted to give us another story, one that was new and fresh. That night at dinner, Glynis and I did not share stories with each other. We had a story that we had to share with others.