Part Four

Where will the wedding be?
Down in the swamp in the Hornoe tree.
What will the wedding supper be?
Fried mosquito, and a black-eyed pea.
We were engaged. Where would the wedding be? When would the wedding be? We knew having a wedding the summer of 1993 was impossible. Rachel would be taking part in SMBI’s WATER program and was looking forward to working in an orphanage in Romania operated by Christian Aid Ministries. I was serving at Choice Books. Because of these circumstances, we decided getting married would need to wait.
I began to realize life consists of waiting. I am always waiting. Waiting for letters, cards, paychecks, and airplanes. Airplanes that are leaving and airplanes that are coming. There wait finally ended as Rachel, and three others, flew from Dulles International Airport. Her parent’s and I, took them to the airport, making sure they boarded the correct plane. After they boarded the plane, we were extremely lonesome, and morose. It was over-whelming, five weeks looked endless. How would we survive the waiting?
Waiting: How do we handle waiting? Do we crawl in a dark hole, wallowing in self-pity? Because life consists of waiting, I have discovered it is what we do while we wait that brings meaning to life. This concept would make a big difference in our lives in the coming years. Wait, I am getting ahead of my story.
After the plane departed, we stopped at Dairy Queen, while picking at our food we decided Rachel needed a box full of goodies. So we stopped at Food Lion, purchasing items that we knew Rachel enjoyed. Dale Schnupp was traveling to Romania and said he would be glad to deliver a box for us.
Rachel called when she got to the orphanage. I was very relived to hear her voice on the phone. Knowing her plane had not fallen out of the sky into the murky ocean, or her train had not derailed brought us great joy.
I faithfully set my alarm clock for two-o-clock every Tuesday morning, seven-o-clock Romanian time, and placed a call to Rachel. Due to low funds, I was making eighty dollars a month, most phone calls were short and sweet.
One particular phone call was not so short. I had been offered the herdsman position at Hillcrest Dairy, located in Hanover, Pennsylvania. They wanted an answer very quickly, and due to the upcoming nuptials, I felt the need to discuss this with my fiancé. This phone call lasted twenty minuets, costing me close to one hundred dollars. We decided I would take the job. Pounding out the details was difficult. I would need to break my commitment to Choice Books.
Another wrinkle Rachel needed to work through was her parent’s decision to move to Faith Builders Educational Programs. Rachel would be adjusting to major changes after she returned home.
Knowing I was getting married, and needing money, I wanted to leave as soon as possible, however, I never told the manager of Choice, Simon Schrock, why I needed to leave despite a fairly long conversation. I realize now this was a mistake, I should have told him.
Simon wondered why I wanted to leave. I told him things like: "I feel unfulfilled." "I don’t enjoy my work." These things had been true, however, I was really beginning to enjoy my work. Simon suggested I stay until the end of October, completing half of my one-year term. One thing I tried to do, was working hard regardless of my unhappiness. I must have succeeded, because Alfy told me one day, "Glen, thank-you for doing a good job and not moping even though you are not totally satisfied."
Well, the decision was made, I would be moving to Hanover. However, there was one more gut-wrenching episode that should be mentioned. My lovely ladies return from a far away land. The horrid train operators had gone on strike in Romania, so we, Rachel’s mom, Donna, and I had no way of knowing whether Rachel was even on the plane. I called the orphanage and was told that Rachel and those with her had left for the airport but they did not know whether they had gotten on the plane.