Stockholm Sweden Temple
Monday, December 14, 2015
Miracle in Travel
A story of the missionaries travel to Sweden
Everything went perfectly; we took our flight to Chicago, got on the next plane for Germany, and had some truly terrible airplane food (am I right?). The problem started when we stopped to get on our final flight to Sweden. Since we were in a foreign country, we had to get our visas stamped and go through a sort of customs before our next flight, and we had an hour to do it and get on our next flight. It was going swimmingly, and our group was going through just fine. However, for some reason, an angry looking worker with a handlebar mustache decided that, even though half our group was through the gates, our visas didn't cut it. From what we could understand of his German-English hybrid, it was because they were "In ze Zwedish" or something like that. So, he pulled us all to the side and had us wait for about 45 minutes while he paced and said "This is problem" over and over. Somehow, despite all of the miscommunication, a member of our group managed to ask him if we could make our flight which had begun boarding and was departing in 5 minutes. He told us, "absolutely not". So we said a prayer. 20-something missionaries just bowing our heads and folding their arms. There were a lot of people staring at us. Suddenly, a young worker we hadn't seen before comes rushing in and says "come, come!" So we follow him. He gets all of our passports stamped very quickly and then leads us through the back halls of the airport. He opened secret door after secret door as we skipped right past the x-rays, crowded hallways, and ended up right on our plan in less than a minute, right as they were closing the doors. We cheered all the way down the tunnel. It was a miracle. We were officially going to Sweden.
Everything went perfectly; we took our flight to Chicago, got on the next plane for Germany, and had some truly terrible airplane food (am I right?). The problem started when we stopped to get on our final flight to Sweden. Since we were in a foreign country, we had to get our visas stamped and go through a sort of customs before our next flight, and we had an hour to do it and get on our next flight. It was going swimmingly, and our group was going through just fine. However, for some reason, an angry looking worker with a handlebar mustache decided that, even though half our group was through the gates, our visas didn't cut it. From what we could understand of his German-English hybrid, it was because they were "In ze Zwedish" or something like that. So, he pulled us all to the side and had us wait for about 45 minutes while he paced and said "This is problem" over and over. Somehow, despite all of the miscommunication, a member of our group managed to ask him if we could make our flight which had begun boarding and was departing in 5 minutes. He told us, "absolutely not". So we said a prayer. 20-something missionaries just bowing our heads and folding their arms. There were a lot of people staring at us. Suddenly, a young worker we hadn't seen before comes rushing in and says "come, come!" So we follow him. He gets all of our passports stamped very quickly and then leads us through the back halls of the airport. He opened secret door after secret door as we skipped right past the x-rays, crowded hallways, and ended up right on our plan in less than a minute, right as they were closing the doors. We cheered all the way down the tunnel. It was a miracle. We were officially going to Sweden.
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