So, it started when I refused to go to bed last night-for not being able to face the fact that I was leaving my sister and her family to go back to Haiti. So, we stayed up till 1am, and I was abruptly woken at 430 to leave for the airport. We left a little late, pushing the recommended three hours before an international flight, to a mere 1.5. I wasn’t too worried though, since it was so early and the airport was only 15 minutes away. My sister dropped me off, and as we hugged for an abnormal amount of time I noticed the long line at the AA counter. So, with the recommendation of my mom, I decided to try the curbside check in. A nice man proceeded to help me, then tried to charge me for my bags, not realizing I was flying international. When we got it straightened out, he took me to the counter to inform me I might not catch my flight. By now it was just 6am, and I thought that was strange. He then told me the flight to Miami left at 630-and then said, “oh wait, you are at the wrong airport! You are flying out of Reagan!” I panicked. I called my sister, she was already home, so I flagged down a taxi. (the first time I have done this by myself, mind you!) I told him the situation, told him I was in a hurry and asked how much it would be. $30. It seemed ridiculous knowing my sister could take me for free-but I couldn’t wait for her to come back. I hopped in as he told me it would pry take 35 minutes to get here. I was still hopeful. Off we sped. Oh wait, not really. I got the only taxi driver who drives the speed limit. I was beginning to resign myself to the fact that I couldn’t do anything from the back seat, and slowly began to calm down. This was primarily due to the fact that all I did was pray in the back seat. My 35 min ride soon turned into 50 as my driver got lost THREE times. Yes, he had gps, but didn’t listen to it! I was now becoming more vocal in the back, reminding him of my flight, and how I was not going to pay for him driving around in circles. Then he stopped for gas. By the time we pulled into Reagan airport it was 710am-the exact time my flight was supposed to leave. I stepped out of the taxi and stepped in gum. At this point, I had to laugh. I tried to drag my two checked bags and three carry’ons to the counter( yes, I was trying to sneak on with 3 carry’ons) None of my bags had wheels, so I was as a sight to behold. I arrived at the counter to have the clerk say, ‘good morning, how are you today?” It was kinda like when you are having an awful day, and you are doing okay until your best friend looks right at you and asks ‘what is wrong’ I lost it. I told her my plight, and asked her for a miracle. I also went on to explain my delusional ranting, about how if I missed my connecting flight in Port au Prince, I would miss my small flight to Port de Pai and that would mean I would have to spend the night in Port au Prince all by myself, which then make me cry harder at the thought of that. She smiled and said she would see what she could do. Five minutes later she had me on another flight at 830am, and didn’t charge me a dime. Tears welled up again as I thanked her-and praised the Father for taking care of me.