I had prayed before I went that I might help as many people on route as I could and I was very busy the whole journey. Most of the help was with EFT, teaching people how to do it and relieving them of little aches and pains. I spent at least 45 minutes with one broken footed lady in the gangway of the plane while she sat in her seat.
In the first hour of the of the journey I met an amazing mother of 3 small boys. Was changing her baby whilst her 2 older boys were sitting in their seat. I met her because I was going to use the lavatory (sorry, can't use the word toilet because it is considered a rude word in the USA and I don't want to use the euphemism 'rest room' 'cos it's not a room to rest in) and she had the door open so she could keep an eye on her boys. She said sometimes they all 4 pile into the tiny room! I kept on meeting her throughout the journey. I move a round a lot on plane journeys, especially those long ones. I think the long leg of this journey was 9 hours from Heathrow to Denver. I am either going on a walk, doing some exercises, going to the WC or getting a drink of water. This lady had an amazing calm manner with her boys and they were all as good as gold! The baby smiled the whole journey.
When we got to Denver I was in the queue near her and offered to help her juggle her stuff. We had to collect our belongings and re-check them in for our onward journey. It turned out she was going to the exact same town I was! Bozeman in Montana is not a large place by any means. The airport has 3 gates. She grew up there and was visiting her parents, having moved to Britain with her husband's job. I found it amazing that she worked full time because she was not at all stressed and her boys showed no neediness. She said that the lady who looked after the boys had gone with them to live in London because she was considered part of the family.
The middle boy, nearly 3 years old called me grandma for the first part of the journey and then changed it to Grandma Patricia when he was told I was not his grandma. She told me this was because I showed a striking resemblance to her mother in looks. So when we got to Bozeman airport and I came upon a lady who looked like me, I introduced myself. (I'm not a typical Bristisher. I do all sorts of things like that which is very out of character of someone from England.) Later, whilst waiting for our luggage I was officially introduced.
The plane from Denver to Bozeman was larger than the usual one that looks like a bus inside, and it was full. Many of those traveling were going to the same conference that I was going to.
At the airport I saw a Portuguese lady, going to the same conference. I had met her at a conference in Europe. Poor lady did not speak English and this was her first trip to the USA. She was relieved to see me and I managed to unite her with the bus that was taking people to the conference site 70 miles down the road.
I met up with my friend with whom I was staying for a few days and we eventually drove to her apartment in Bozeman well after 11pm. Amazingly it was still Saturday, but of course it was nearly time to get up on Sunday morning in Britain.
