Last weekend I went to San Diego to visit Aaron, our son. Great trip! Did lots of things—a fun-filled visit. Will detail that out in a separate post. But a funny thing happened on my return. Seemed that nobody could pick me up at the airport. I was stranded at SFO.

I read about shuttle services. One company was to be avoided completely, according to YELP entries. Two others are a bit more costly, but better. I sent a reservation request to one of them and awaited a response. Nothing. After my wait, it was too late to book with the second one. So. . . I decided to try BART (Bay Area Rapid Transit) and Caltrain. BART has a stop right in the airport. Easy. Go one stop to San Bruno, then take the connecter to Millbrae, which is a hub for Caltrain. $4. I put my money in the vending machine and bought a ticket.

As I walked to the platform I saw a pleasant looking woman. She walked with an air of knowledge and experience. So I approached her and asked for confirmation. “Yes. In fact, I’m taking the same route, so follow me.” Wow, what a lucky meeting. I followed her to the platform of Caltrain and she coached me through the vending machine ticket purchase there. $6. I only had a $20, so the machine coughed out 14 coins in change. I didn’t even know the mint even continued to make dollar coins. Off we went to find the schedule for the next train. 45 minutes. Ah, there’s a bench, let’s sit.

Fran turned out to be a delightful person. She told me of her visit to her sister-in-law in Tucson. She shared a brief history of her two daughters’ adult lives. But she really lit up when she talked about her bees. She told me about their habits and dances. She talked about the differences between Italian bees and Russian bees. She showed me their decorated hives. Her solution to a mite infestation was to bellows powdered sugar into the hive. The bees are sugar eaters and so as they eat the tasty treat, they groom each other, thereby dislodging the parasites. Wow. Interesting.

“Where are you going, exactly?” Fran queried. “I’m going to Santa Cruz and I could just drop you off.” Great!

We continued our conversation on the train and Fran informed me that we would be collected from the train station by her friend Patty. Seems that Patty is a miniature figure artisan, sculpting tiny babies from polymer clay. She had worked in the technology field, using microscopes to work on components that were nearly invisible to the naked eye. Going from that detailed work to making miniature babies was sort of a logical step and Patty even commented that the babies seem big to her. I settled into the back seat of Patty’s minivan and was handed a small Tupperware. Inside the container was a perfectly formed baby—no more than 2 inches long. She had curly blond hair, rosy cheeks, and wore a little sweater set embroidered with a teddy bear on the front. Wow. People are so clever, quirky and resourceful.

Fran’s car was parked just where she left it. We said our thank yous and goodbyes to Patty and headed out. Within 10 minutes she dropped me off at home. As I climbed from the passenger seat, I thought about what a wonderful experience I’d just had—in the company of strangers, with two modern day Samaritans.

Posted on June 26, 2010

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