A wild goose chase

One Sunday evening after a church service out in Indy, Klara and I strolled out with a bunch of other SF students to board the bus back to the training center. The day was comfortably warm (fall was beyond the thoughts of the Indiana climate) and the rays of the sun were still bright though slanted. After crossing the road, we spied a flock of Canadian geese out in a large field right next to where the bus was parked.

 

"Do you want to go chase the geese with me?" Klara asked, a gleam of fun in her eye. It sounded vaguely like fun, but I was reluctant. Then I realized that I was reluctant only because I was afraid of spoiling my "mature image" in the eyes of my many peers who were present! That was ridiculous! Who cares what other people think? Hang so-called maturity! I'm still young so why shouldn't I enjoy it?

 

With that attitude, I changed my initial reaction and flung my cares to the wind. Of course I would love to go chase geese with one of my very best friends, no matter that many "proper" ATI students in their Sunday best were watching us. Off we went, running madly as best we could in our own Sunday attire--straight at the silly geese, delighted at the prospects of seeing them flee noisily. Surprisingly, however, the geese were hardly fazed at all! Sure, they may have moved a little as we ran yelling at them (we might not have been yelling, but I have the impression that we were--in the most lady-like fashion of course:), but mostly they just stood and looked at us with much nonchalance. Now I did feel kind of stupid. What's the point of chasing geese if they refuse to be chased? It simply ruins the fun of it all. Still, the short run had done me good, and chuckling at the geese and how silly we must have appeared, Klara and I headed back to the bus.

 

Then I noticed.

 

I had lost my keys. I was often pocketless, so my common "storage" place for my key chain (it held a key to our room as well as one to Kendra's) was to tuck it into the waistband of my skirt. They (the keys) had been there only minutes before. With horror I realized that I had just lost them somewhere in the middle of the large field. Fearful visions of everyone sitting on the bus waiting for me as I searched hopelessly for my keys flashed across my mind. As of then the bus driver hadn't arrived yet (I think) and so they hadn't even begun to board the bus. But still, who knew how long it could take me? The keys could be anywhere in that massive meadow, and all I could think was how badly I would feel to have everyone waiting for me just because I had gone on a wild goose chase. Literally.

 

Fortunately, we have a God in heaven who cares about the small things. Although panic had seized me, I didn't forget to breath a fervent prayer, and it was only after a minute or so of retracing my steps that I found my keys. Gratitude and relief set in as I picked them up and headed for the bus, which was only just starting to be boarded. I was saved.

 

Coincidence? I don't think so.