A Memorable Moment Of My Life

As time passes, we tend to forget a lot of what has happened.However some certain moments always remain vivid in out memories. To be honest, I am not one with good memory; I tend to keep in mind times when I experienced extreme emotions, where I can still recall every second of the happening.

The summer before 11th grade was the first time I traveled abroad alone. All through exams I was excited about returning to the US to visit my friend. At the time, the word "fear" did not exist in my vocabulary, not until I reached the plane. I have always been a bad traveler, the one that would get sick within minutes of a car drive. Airplanes were not unfamiliar, it was the anxiety that frustrated my stomach.

The dreadful four hours of the flight from Taiwan to Japan felt as if days had passed. Slowly, as I began to spot land peeking out of the stuffy clouds, a sense of reassurance filled my lungs, and I finally sighed in relief. I already was half way, what else was there to worry about?

Narita Airport was a maze, luckily people held up signs, telling me which doors to walk through and where to change terminals. I clutched on to my passport and ticket, as I slowly dragged my suitcase behind other travelers.

As I reached the gateways of the second terminal, I spotted a nun sitting on a priority seat. My abrupt sense of humor found this particular scene hilarious, and as smooth as I could, I took a snap shot of the old lady.

Too bad I believed in karma.

The tedious lines at the check in counters gave me a headache. Fortunately, I was able to find a line that had a fewer amount of travelers. I approached the counter and reached for my passport. But the familiar navy blue book was gone. All of a sudden panic rushed through my blood, as I searched my belongings over and over.

I ran back to the building map, pushed through the tourist groups, ran to the spot where the nun was, but she disappeared too. I rushed back down to where the bus dropped me off from the previous terminal. There was one hour left until take off, yet my passport was no where to be found.

The airport assistant nearby made phone call after phone call, to all the places I had passed, asking if anyone had found an american passport. I paced back and worth, cursing myself for being so brainless. What if someone stole it? Would that mean I couldn't leave the aiport? Will I ever see my mother again? Questions rushed through my brain, a million all telling me the same thing; I was doomed.

Just as the dread slowly sank in, I heard someone say my name in a strong Japanese accent over the speakers. It was as if a farmer recieved his calling.

Ever since, my passport has always been in my bag, at all times, as I frequently made sure that it stayed there, safe with me. Never again, will I mess with karma

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