“SO YOU WANNA BE A MISSIONARY” or Leaving America For The First Time

(Excerpt from HAITI: The Aftershocks of Hope. Yolantha’s books are availabe on AMAZON or through Trubu Press)
in the air
My nose burned with the stale smell of breathing in other folks air. Sitting on the airplane for the first time as a mih-mih-mih-Missionary. (For a whole year I couldn’t even say it out loud. The word was too sacred for the multitude of sins that I had committed in the first 46 years of my life) I wanted to scramble off of the plane. But the aisle was packed with last minute people boarding. People who moved with confidence, determination, and acted like this was normal. Regular. My seat partner was evidently now more comfortable because she was taking up more than her share of our seat. Squished up against the window seat, my flesh side was hyperventilating and screaming, “let me off, let me off, please let me off I can’t breathe!!!” I looked at the people around me to be sure I had not spoken out loud. I frantically stuffed 4 sticks of wrigley chewing gum in my mouth and searched for the upchuck bag. The airplane was vibrating and rolling, the front of the plane tilted and lurched like the start of a carnival ride. “Kerchunk!” The wheels went up into the belly of the plane
“ooooooooooooooh Jeeeeeezuz!!!”
I’m here,” the voice said, “I’m here.”


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