No, it's still not the fiction story. It's better.

Guys, I am amazed. I've been spending about the last hour just going over tonight again and again in my head and I'm just. I'm just amazed. About a lot of things.

Let me back up a bit.

Tonight, I needed to get my temple recommend renewed, because I had foolishly never gotten the new kind with the barcodes that are now necessary in at least the U.S. temples. And my mom really, really wanted for us to all do some work together while I'm home visiting the fam.

So tonight, I needed an interview with a member of the stake presidency, as I had previously been interviewed by a member of the bishopric. The only problem was that the chapel where the interviews take place is a little difficult to get to by using public transportation. So difficult, in fact, that I had never been there before. Although it is (nearly) right next to the Boston Temple, which I had visited a few times, although only once by using the MBTA.

Anyway.

So, because the interviews started at 7pm, and I wanted to be sure to get done early so I could get back and finish packing, I left my apartment about 6pm, thinking that it would take me about an hour (give or take 15 minutes or so) to get to the appropriate subway stop, take the bus, and walk the necessary distance to the chapel.

It took three hours.

First of all, the train ride into the center of town was rather unpleasantly wet. We had a thunderstorm system move through the area, and the train apparently was not fully protected against the wiles of nature; the roof dripped the whole way into downtown.

Also, when we were about halfway to the stop where I had to change subway lines, the driver of the train announced that the station I needed was closed due to an emergency, and that we could get out either a stop before or a stop after to catch a shuttle bus service to the parts of the other line that were down.

So, not wanting to sit in my ever-increasing little pool of train-filtered rainwater any longer, I opted for the earlier stop, got off the train, walked up to street level, and walked over to where hordes of people were standing around, waiting for the shuttle buses. (Remember, this was right in the middle of evening rush hour, and this is one of the busiest stations in the system, I think.) So, I stood in the crowd for a long, long time, (I had forgotten my phone, and I had no watch, so I had no idea what time it was), a bus or two came by, which were immediately rushed by the crowd, and I got a little closer to the front of the mass of bodies. Then, buses for the other direction kept coming up and passing us. Over. And over. And over.

By this time, I was seriously starting to have doubts about whether or not I would make the interview. I thought about just giving it up as a bad job, but the thought of missing out on possibly getting the recommend, when I might get it if I perservered, was intolerable. I couldn't let myself give up.

So, I stood there for even more time. And more. While glistening in the humidity and rather warm air.

Finally a bus came that was going the right direction, so the crowd pressed onboard, and we were at last on our way.

Then, before we had even gotten to the next stop, the bus broke down.

Apparently, these buses are meant to hold about 50 people max, with 40 in the seats, and maybe about an additional 10 standing in the aisles. The bus driver estimated that there were about 110 people on board. The hydraulics system on the right-hand side of the bus broke down, so the bus started leaning right. Hard. And we couldn't go faster than about 10mph. Everybody tried to stand over to the left of the bus (which was where I had been, so I got a bit squished), but we eventually had to pull over.

A bunch of the passengers hopped on other buses, (also tightly packed), but there wasn't room for everyone. After a few minutes, the bus driver had the rest of us get back on the bus, but at that point, we were down to maybe 20 people. We all sat or stood on the left side of the bus, and made sort-of good time past the first stop, but unfortunately, the bus just couldn't keep going, and we all had to get off at the second stop.

So, we did. And waited while a lot of 'not knowing what was going on' happened.

And here I have to make a comment: one of the funny things about this whole experience (it was now probably not quite 8 o'clock, so most of us had been trying to get to our destinations for a couple of hours) was that it broke the silence that normally exists between public transportation users. It's as if this invisible (yet impenetrable) barrier exists around each person, and crossing that barrier by chatting with someone you don't know is a sort of serious social taboo. Sort of.

But that taboo just could not survive the wonderfully improbable and highly impossible situation in which we all found ourselves. We all started laughing at how crazy and horrible and frustrating and funny it all was. (One girl's laughter sounded a bit hysterical, but I think she made it through okay.) One of the funniest moments was when the bus driver, in frustration with having to take the bus out of service, and the complete lack of direction he was getting from his superiors, turned to the guy in the front seat and said, "This is what I have to put up with. Stay in school, man."

So, there we all were, outside of Kendall Square station, wondering how long it would take to get another bus to us so that we could finally get to Harvard Square station, where apparently the subway was up and running. Then, one of the T-employees in the know told us that Kendall Square was now open for northbound trains. Joyously, we began to frolick downstairs, and found out that we had to go in the other side of the station. So, with joy liberally mixed with trepedation, we made our way down the other side, where we were able to board a train. That was going the right direction. And it really did pull out of the station.

(And the cool thing is that everybody was still talking to each other.)

So, we finally got to Harvard, where I got off to figure out which bus to take to get up to the chapel. But, naturally, there were no schedules available for the bus that I thought I needed to take (the 78). So, I grabbed a different schedule instead (the 77) and went to go see which bus came first. It was the 78. (By the way, I later realized that the 78 route was printed on the 77 schedule as well.)

By this time, it was dark outside, (it was about 8:30, according to the clock on the bus), so when we pulled out of Harvard Square station, I realized that finding the right stop was going to be tricky. Then, as we went along and along and even more along, I began thinking, 'None of this looks familiar. I really, really do not know where we are right now. I bet I took the wrong bus.' Which was discouraging, as you may imagine, since I had just spent the past two and a half hours trying to make the interview. Again, I kind of wanted to give up, but I thought I'd just ride the bus to the end of the route and then back to Harvard station again if I hadn't seen the temple along the way. (Remember, the chapel was next to the temple, so I was going to use the temple as my guidepost. Because it was lit up. And thus easy to see.)

One by one, (well, occasionally in twos and threes), all the passengers got off the bus until it was just me. It was very dark outside. I couldn't see anything, and I really didn't quite know where we were on the route. Finally, I saw the temple up ahead, so I signalled the bus driver to stop. He made a turn under an overpass, and pulled up at a covered bus stop, where I got off.

It was completely deserted.

And did I mention it was dark?

And I was armed only with an umbrella?

So, I cursed myself for the biggest idiot the world has ever known, and walked briskly, weilding my umbrella like a club, as I walked under the overpass, convinced that lurking in the shadows were murderers and rapists and probably rabid dogs.

Guys, in all seriousness, I was actually really terrified. And I really did think that I had been an idiot to get off the bus. Because it was really dark. I cannot even tell you how dark it was under that overpass. It was one of those moments when you realize that something really bad really, really could happen to you, and probably will.

But, I made it through. And if there were rapists, murderers and rabid dogs lurking around, I didn't see them. Which is good, because I don't think my umbrella would have been quite enough. So, I started walking up the hill towards the temple, still not quite sure where exactly the chapel was located.

Also? It was past 9 o'clock now. I knew that once I found the chapel, it would be deserted, and I'd have to walk some more in the terrifying dark in order to find a bus stop where I would wait and continue to be terrified until maybe a bus came along before horrible things happened to me. And I would go home in disgrace.

Also, there was no sidewalk. So I kind of had to walk in the street a little.

By this time, I could have wept with frustration. I almost did. I felt like I had tried so hard, and it still wasn't going to be enough. I was still going to have to call my mom and tell her that I couldn't go with the family to the temple because I was a dope and didn't have the right recommend and then.

There was the sign for the chapel.

So, I turned down the street (lit with a few streetlamps) and saw a parking lot in the distance.

It had cars in it. Not very many, but there were cars.

I got up to the chapel door, convinced that it would be locked.

It wasn't.

I walked inside, convinced that I'd find someone cleaning the building, or people playing late-night basketball or something.

I saw a girl in a skirt sitting on a couch. Which was the most wonderful thing I could have seen just then. I tentatively asked if they were still doing interviews for temple recommends (I think it was about a quarter after 9pm by this time) and she said that she was waiting for her own recommend interview, and pointed out the person I needed to talk to in order to sign in.

So I signed in.

And I sat down.

And I tried really hard not to cry because I was just feeling this sense of being amazed and awed and stunned that after all the halting and mishaps and obstacles, I had made it. They were still there. I could still have a temple recommend.

When the stake president called me into his office, he talked with me for a moment, then asked if I'd be willing to share a bit of my testimony with him. I felt a rush of the spirit, and I bore my testimony with a more firm conviction than I've felt in a long time. And again, I struggled not to cry.

The interview went fine, a brother from the other singles ward gave me a ride to the nearest T stop so I wouldn't have to wait in the dark for a bus, and I got home a little after 10:30.

Guys, I think there is something really valuable about this experience. I think sometimes the things that are good and right for us to do come very easily; the way opens up for us suddenly, spectacularly, like the parting of the Red Sea, and we walk through on dry ground towards the Promised Land.

But this was not a Red Sea moment for me. For me, this was one of those times when the thing I was supposed to do was hard, a time when all these awful (and sometimes even ridiculous) obstacles kept getting thrown in my path. And I nearly gave up. And didn't. And now I have what I needed.

The Lord shows us all kinds of tender mercies. Tonight, mine came in the form of a busted subway system, a broken bus, and a rectangular piece of (barcoded) paper that's securely stashed in my purse.