It was my first international flight. With so much going on in my mind it was hard to think straight. Several articles of clothing still hung on a clothesline back at the home I had always known. There were so many emotions to consider. Saying goodbye to my family was the most difficult by far. Yet I was excited to see my fiance again soon. What a thought!
We had prepared so long for this day: getting to know each other for a year, documenting his two visits to my hometown and sharing every detail of our long distance love story that we could recall, early morning long line medical checks, and then anxious embassy interviews. His days were my nights and likewise when my day had just begun he tried to rest amidst the anticipation. This would be another long day. The schedule was for me to have a few hours layover in Tokyo, Japan. Then I would be on my way to the port of entry in San Francisco, U.S.A.
I stopped in the restroom, freshened up, and then headed toward my next gate. At the security checkpoint I realized I did not have my purse. I frantically ran back to find an empty restroom stall. I fought back tears as I prayed that in the least my plane ticket, my visa, and my passport would be returned to me and not leave me stranded. Though I was not confident with my English I quickly realized the airport employees were not any better. I was so thankful for one girl, however, whose English was just good enough, and her determination even better. She helped me approach everyone who might be of help. The purse was returned to the lost and found, moments after we located the lost and found.