Angels in Disguise

When our second son, Richard, got married in a small village close to Paris, France, my husband Peter could not attend. Our oldest boy, Robert, then worked and lived in Stuttgart, Germany. I was overjoyed when he proposed to accompany me to the wedding and take me on a short sightseeing trip to the famous castles of the Loire before the big event.

My generous husband encouraged me to accept Robert’s proposal. I will write more about our exciting and adventurous sightseeing trip to the Loire valley. Robert had rented a car. We started our journey in Tours. After our circle tour, we planned on taking the train to Paris.

Our exciting, adventurous trip in the most beautiful early spring weather ended far too early. Full of fantastic impressions and memories, we arrived in Tours again to return the rented car and board the train to Paris.

Entering the vast central station in mid-morning, we were puzzled. There were no people and also no wickets open. We wondered what was going on. Maybe a significant holiday? That did not make sense. Or the trains don’t run until later in the day? That was equally senseless. Before we came up with more stupid explanations, a policeman informed us that there was a strike which could last who knows how long.

Needless to say, we were shocked and at a loss for what to do. We took our suitcases and decided to go to town for a coffee to devise a plan for solving our predicament. We had hardly walked a few steps when a taxi stopped at the curb, opening the door to invite us in. After a short hesitation, we let him drive us to a cafe. When he heard our story, he got very agitated. He explained that these frequent strikes hurt the local population, inconvenienced the tourists, and ultimately were bad for the economy. Looking at us with genuine pity, he proposed to take us to a small train station on the outskirts of Tours for local transit. Once a day, a train to Paris will come through, and if you are lucky, you will get on and arrive in Paris tonight he told us.

Full of hope we had a pleasant conversation with our friendly taxi driver in broken French and English. At the station, he insisted on carrying my suitcase to the platform where a vast crowd of people anxiously waited, almost like in war times. I wanted to pay our driver and award him a massive tip for his helpful kindness. But he refused, adamantly saying he would be insulted if we persisted. We will never forget your kindness, I told him in parting. He left with a smile. I had tears in my eyes.

We did get on the train despite the huge crowd. Contrary to my fears that people would try to storm into the wagons everyone boarded the train calmly and orderly. There were friendly smiles and joyful chatter of relieved people happy to be on board. I will never forget the kindness and generosity of the taxi driver in Tours, France, an angel in disguise.