Two Roads Diverged...And I Took the One Leading to First Class

In her sermon this morning, Suzanne observed how nice it would be if life were like a labyrinth:  once you find the open path, there are no more decisions to make.  You simply put one foot in front of the other, following the path, until you find your way to the center and back out again.  Alas, she acknowledged, that's not the way it works.

I know.  A couple of months ago I booked a flight to Fort Worth.  Frustrated with fares I consider too high, I opted out of the two-hour direct flight in favor of the $200 cheaper one-stop through Minneapolis.  It is, to be sure, a gamble anytime you add connecting points, but I don't take $200 lightly.  When my return flight out of DFW yesterday was delayed, I calculated the implications for my second flight into Des Moines.  It was going to be close.  Landing in Minneapolis, I retrieved my checked carry on (no, I don't think that concept makes any sense either), noted span of gates I would need to traverse, and began to sprint.   I arrived at the departing gate 10 minutes before the scheduled takeoff to find no passengers and no gate agent.  Just as I was dialing Delta customer service, the gate agent emerged from the jet bridge.  She guessed immediately who I was and said, "it may be too late, but let's try."  She held the door open and together we sprinted toward the plane, only to arrive at the plane-side door to find the cabin door shut and the aircraft pulling away.  Seconds too late.

What to do?  The gate agent apologized profusely and began to click away at her computer.  I thanked her for trying.  She thanked me for not chewing her out.  We shared a bonding laugh over our shared adventure and new-found camaraderie.  She clicked some more, she smiled a devilish smile, clicked print, and handed me a boarding pass on the next plane out -- in 1st class -- plus meal vouchers for the afternoon.  "Thanks again for being so nice," she said.  "Thanks again for helping me out," I replied.

Suzanne was right:  life is not a simple path that you casually follow until the end.  From the choices we make about which airline tickets to buy, to the choices we make about how to handle adversity and disappointment and our interactions with one another, life is far less like a meditative labyrinth and far more like Robert Frost's two roads diverging in a yellow wood, the choice of which makes all the difference in the world.

Sometimes it even gets you into First Class.