ISBN-13: 9781512181166 / Angielski / Miękka / 2016 / 160 str.
On the chilly morning of May 17, 2006, Susan Beamer began a three-week journey. She was scheduled to rendezvous with a group of pastors and lay people in Berlin for a "Bonhoeffer Tour" and follow in at least some of the footsteps of theologian, pastor, and martyr, Dietrich Bonhoeffer. She was nervous, but the first leg of the flight from Indianapolis to Newark went smoothly--no turbulence at all. With plenty of time to find the next gate before boarding the dreaded flight across the ocean--she told her husband that under no circumstances did she want to be buried at sea--suddenly she noticed something which gave her a terrible sinking feeling. The date on the itinerary didn't match her arrival date How could this have happened? She would be arriving a day late. Everybody else was already in Berlin By the time she got there they would probably be on their way to Poland. She couldn't call anyone because she had no cell phone; that didn't matter much because she had no phone number to call. Tegel International Airport in Berlin was friendlier and more informal than she had imagained; baggage claim and customs went quickly. Stepping outside the terminal into the fresh morning air, she really wanted to kneel and kiss the ground but she hurried over to the long queue of taxis. Surrendering everything to her driver--two suitcases and one tiny hand-drawn map of the guest house where she was to meet her group--she stepped into the open door of the back seat and heard the familiar cadence of National Public Radio. It turned out that the driver, Lawrence, a native of Ghana, listened to NPR to improve his English. Susan explained her dilemma to Lawrence--the late arrival, the need to hurry--sparing all the details of the faulty planning which accompanied it. He smiled, nodded, glanced at the crumpled map and started the cab. As they drove, the neighborhoods of Berlin flew past them, a blur of trees, neat houses, crowded outdoor cafes, beautiful automobiles and pedestrians. The cab pulled up alongside the curb of a tree-lined street; he grabbed her bags and said, I'll walk with you to the door of the guest house because it seems to be hidden from view." Such kindness from a stranger. The guest house front door opened to a clean, sparse waiting area. A group of people all about her age, were seated together on red couches and looked up--was this her group? Their gasps, mumbling, sounds of relief and the biting noises of reproach filled the air. Someone loudly bounded down the stairs--it was a man with his arms outstretched with a look of joyful surprise--she knew in an instant he was the group leader. He was within minutes of making the necessary decision to leave for Poland without her. "Thank God I am not taking my eyes off you " he declared. Tired, in need of a bath, and very hungry, she put her bags in the trunk of one of the cars, silently said her prayers of thanks and settled into the back seat. They headed east. Little did she know that the grace she had received thus far was but a foretaste of the grace that was coming their way. Little did she know that the friends of Dietrich Bonhoeffer--the living, the dead, and the ones Bonhoeffer never knew--would open their lives to her and to her traveling companions in a redemptive way. Susan is still trying to find the right words to describe it.