(Continued from Peek in the Past—The Journey Begins)
One of my new friends in our Maryland apartment was Pauline Stevens, a young lady from London, England. She had fiery bronze hair and a great sense of humor. After a few months working in Washington D.C., we were both tired of the humid summer heat and began dreaming of the west coast.
Fortunately, there were more office vacancies in Dallas, and we both found jobs with a Temp agency. As soon as we had enough money for tickets, we moved on to Colorado Springs via a night in Wichita, Kansas at the home of strangers—a generous Baptist family.
During our travels, we discussed religion and attended different churches. Pauline was a lapsed Catholic, and I was raised without religion, but had a great curiosity about God. When I was eight, I went—by myself—to a local Church one Sunday, just to see what went on. My dad gave me a thrupenny bit (three English pennies—like 3 cents) , and said, “You’ll need this for the collection.” I had no clue what that meant until half way through the service a plate was passed around. Everyone around me placed ten shilling notes, or even one pound, or five pound notes on the pile. I kept my tiny, bronze thrupenny bit tight in my fist, and ducked my head, embarrassed. I didn’t understand the service and couldn’t see past all the winter coats and fancy hats. No-one spoke to me afterward so I never went back.
By mid-January, we’d saved enough to travel on to the Grand Canyon—and a new twist in my story. But you’ll have to wait another month to find out what happened next :-)