The morning commute was rough today–snow during the drive-time meant delays for miles and miles–and there I was, in the midst of it.
In my mind, I tried to construct haikus, two of them, for St. Christopher and St. Anthony, as I’ve been looking for flights for weeks and weeks now, waiting for prices to drop and trying to find one without thirty-five hour layovers. (For real). (THIRTY-FIVE IS SO MANY HOURS).
Help me find a flight today
Please, St. Christopher
Holding a lily
Baby Jesus in a book
Franciscan, find one
Golly, I wanted a flight. I have a friend studying on assignment in Italy who has asked for visitors, and the flight sitch has been impossible for months.
St. Christopher was the patron saint of travel, but then he was kind of demoted from the ranks of official saints, seeing as his story might be more legend than fact. But, popular devotion remains, and I figure it couldn’t hurt. St. Anthony doesn’t really have anything to do with travel, but he is the patron saint of finding items, albeit lost ones, but, again, I figured something was better for nothing. And, try as I might, I couldn’t remember the saint now assigned travel after St. Christopher left that seat vacant.
I’ve been watching flights on different search engines, incognito, with my search history cleared, every morning and evening. I’ve tried different days, different airlines, different airports. I check on weekends, I check on weekdays. Name a flight trick and I have used it, I would wager. Only…nothing. Bad luck, high prices, and awful choices.
Until…this afternoon. Late this afternoon (after I had been watching flights all day in an incognito browser), a flight came up, departing from close to my house, at a reasonable price. Quickly, I called my bank and purchased. Done. If the Lord wills it, I’ll visit my friend in Rome late this winter.
It wasn’t until this evening that I realized: maybe St. Christopher and St. Anthony’s prayers were exactly what I needed.