The First Blouse and The Last Coin

"The Last Coin"

Alexandru Avremescu, 1977

Presented to me by the artist in Vienna, Austria  7 July 1980

Hebrews 13:2 NIV

"Do not forget to entertain strangers, for by so doing some people have entertained angels without knowing it."

I put on the first blouse I pulled out of my backpack on the morning of July 7, 1980. It was a white, short sleeve pull-over emblazoned with bright horizontal colors: royal blue on top, sunny yellow in the middle and rosy red on the bottom.

Carmen, Donnie and I were traveling through Austria toward our Monte Carlo dream. We raced through Vienna's train station rapidly scanning departure boards searching for our train platform. 

As we fantasized about Mediterranean beaches and trying to sneak into the pink palace to find Princess Grace, I heard a commotion across from us. 

My attention was diverted from my friends. I glanced toward the sounds and saw a distinguished-looking man carrying a worn leather satchel approach us, gesturing toward me as he walked our way.

We had just passed his companions and him headed in the opposite direction. Now, he chased us down to catch up with us, or rather, to catch up with me.

I couldn't figure out what I'd done to draw his attention, but he "hallo-ed" and pointed at me as if we were friends.

When they caught up with us, he tried to talk to me, but he didn't speak English; he seemed even more surprised I didn't speak his.

Finally, he pulled out a postcard from his satchel with a picture of a painting titled, "The Last Coin" and indicated he was the artist, Alexandru Avramescu, whose name was on the back of the postcard along with the title of the painting.

However, I still couldn't figure out my connection to him until he pointed to my blouse. The colors were ironically arranged in the same order as the Romanian flag. 

Turns out, he was originally from Romania. Since this was 1980, during the age of the Iron Curtain, I don't know his story, but I can only guess how long it had been since he had been home. He must have thought I was also Romanian and eagerly chased me down to speak to me.   

I was twenty years old and didn't understand his need to visit with someone from home, but I was friendly and tried to talk with him as best I could. He wrote me a brief note and signed and dated the back of the postcard before we all parted ways. I felt as if I made a new friend.

I don't believe in coincidences. I believe God's hand is in every event that occurs in life.

Apparently, Mr. Avramescu needed to see someone who reminded him of home on July 7, 1980. 

And I'll always remember the unusual connection I have with a talented and kind Romanian artist who passed away in 1995.
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Lord, thank you for strangers who enter my life, and who may indeed be angels.