Reversal of Fortune and Habit.

In that inspiring way life has, missing our first train of the day led to an experience I would not trade for anything.

On that second train of the new plan to get to Rothenberg, was a young man who turned to me from across the aisle and began questioning me in English. He was engaging and quirky, and his older female companion (Mom, caretaker, friend? Not clear.) tried to support him as he interacted with people, while trying to make sure he didn’t push past people’s comfort zones.

He asked where we were from, did we own a car, what kind of cars, did we have a cat or dog, what were their names?

In a delightful twist for me, when I couldn’t figure out what he was asking, due to his combining English and German, I would turn to Buds and Monkey, seated in the row behind me, and they would jump in to help.

I was so impressed with Monkey. Actively engaging in a foreign language, when the rest of the train car is listening intently, takes so much courage and cleverness. She answered several of Simon’s questions in lovely sounding German, and fed me answers, or helped me understand his questions for several more interactions.

The section of train car we were in was quite small, about twenty seats with about eighteen people. Simon’s voice carried so any conversation we had was shared by everyone, whether they appreciated it or not.

Hence, I was so grateful to see how impressed and supportive people’s faces were when Monkey was answering in German. And in a funny exchange, Simon was showing me how he could count in English, “Nine, eight, six, three, two, seven,” to which I responded with the one German number my college roommate taught me decades ago, “5,555.” (It sounds awesome in German. Just ask anyone.) This caused a round of laughter from the Germans on the train, which I appreciated.

The other phrase Roommate Sherri taught me was, “I have a knife,” but as her husband pointed out to me today, probably not the best phrase to use on a crowded train.

Wait, I lie. She also taught us to say, “Ich liebe dich,” which means, “I love you,” and isn’t that the one that really matters?

What started with anxiety and disappointment ended with beauty and human connection. My kind of day.