Bus Story: Krystyna

Last night as I was boarding the eastbound 720 on the way to a panel discussion at SAG, I offered to help an elderly woman get her two large suitcases onto the bus. When she sat down she held up a handful of 8 x 10 photos and mumbled something about God to the four of us who were sitting nearby. The passenger closest to Suitcase Woman stood up and moved to the back of the bus well out of earshot to what I’m sureshe figured was going to be a pitch on behalf of the Almighty. 

Of course, I moved closer. 

The Suitcase Woman's name was Krystyna. Originally from Poland, she spends every minute of her day on the bus spreading the word. She wore a floor length black skirt and a summery white hat with the brim turned down. Her voice was thin and rose and fell sweetly as if she was singing a lullaby. 

The photos were all of beautiful scenic views, which she said were “testaments of God's work.” Some had blown out bright spots she claimed were angels. In the one of a Las Vegas street scene she pointed out the arrows on the ground pointed to a white light. Proof, she said, that they exist. I asked her if she had been getting into trouble in Vegas. She didn't think that was funny. Instead she handed me an 18 page, single spaced handwritten note peppered with bible verses and words like "anointed" and "creator". 

While I confess I didn't read the entire booklet, I did catch that she worked at the Nevada Budget Department where she believes she was poisoned with Anthrax, but survived because she had snuck in meds from Poland that saved her life supplied by “you know who.” 

By the time we reached Fairfax, Krystyna and I had become confidants and she let me know that there wasn't actually anything in the suitcases. She just likes to have them around in case she finds something she wants to take home.

So while I was ticked that I was on my way to a panel discussion on a Friday night I should at least be grateful that He made sure the ride was entertaining.