welcome August 19, 2002 Issue

On wings of prayer

Mary Trammell

When I Stepped Off the plane about nine o'clock that blizzard-swept night many years ago at Dulles Airport in Washington, D.C., Peg was right there waiting for me. She was the only person in the waiting room.

"I just knew you'd be here!" she said, hugging me.

And somehow, I knew she'd be there, too—though there was every reason for her not to be. The airport had been closed all evening. The airlines had told her my plane would be redirected to another city. And her family had teased her unsparingly for skipping the local basketball game and striking out into a blinding snowstorm to meet a plane that surely wouldn't arrive.

Enjoy 1 free Sentinel article or audio program each month, including content from 1898 to today.

Send a comment to the editors
NEXT IN THIS ISSUE
Letters
letters
August 19, 2002
Contents

We'd love to hear from you!

Easily submit your testimonies, articles, and poems online.

Submit