20. May 2013 · Comments Off on House of Joy · Categories: M. 16 years

After we land at the bustling Chicago airport the stewardess picks up my suitcase and walks with me to my connecting flight.    Thank you, good guy agent!

Gibson Hotel

It is early morning, and I am at the Gibson HoteI lobby.   There is no one waiting for me.  I choose a seat near the doors where I can be seen, and I wait.

Before I start figuring out what to do next, a young woman comes into the lobby.   She is Mary, from Grailville.  She is smiling.

So, there have been two identical slip-ups.  I wish I could just forget about it.

Mary doesn’t ask me about my trip or says much else.   She is still smiling as she takes the window seat on the bus.   It’s as though she knows something to smile about, but she is not telling.

I take the seat next to her.   The bus is almost empty.   Through the many windows I can still see the city streets and then the country roads.

Mary took a window seat, but she does not look out the window.  She keeps her eyes down.   There is no book on her lap.   Is she meditating?  I’m not sure, but I sense that she does not want to be disturbed unless I have something important to say.

I take in the glorious views of the countryside and the small towns that I’ve seen only in the movies yet are so familiar.

We get off in downtown Loveland.  Another woman is waiting to drive us the short distance, about a mile, to Grailville.

We pass a wooden sign with the school’s name on it.  We pull up to the building I saw in the brochure.

It is called The House of Joy.House of Joy1

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