Read Sisterchicks in Gondolas! Online
Authors: Robin Jones Gunn
Since that exceptional adventure, when Sue and I found ourselves “victims of grace,” we have watched our small lives expand. Goodness and mercy have remained hot on our trail. And our trail, believe it or not, has led us to nine countries.
In some ways, my life went from being an “offering,” like Malachi’s eggs, and turned into a commitment. I was the chicken. In more ways than one. Sue and I now go to visit women who serve in full-time ministry. We go because
sometimes they need an older sister to come along and help to brush the shame off them, for whatever reason.
There isn’t a real science to it. We pray together about each invitation. We wait for the money for the trip to arrive, and it always comes in unexpected ways. Then we pack. I pack an easy-to-understand Bible translation, a new notebook, a pen, and a flashlight. Those items aren’t for me, but for the woman I’m going to visit.
Sue packs what she calls her “Sisterchicks Survival Kit.” Each kit is different, depending on what Sue finds to tuck inside, but all of them have something yummy to eat, something sweet to smell, and something uplifting to read. Once we took new underwear because the woman had let us know that was her greatest need. That time the gift was truly “uplifting” for her.
The first country we flew to was Ukraine. Goodness and mercy had to be following us through customs when we arrived because the airport inspector wanted to know why we were “smuggling” in so many bags of chocolate chips.
“Cookies,” I told him, even though I wanted to nod at Sue and say it was her idea. “I’ve come to bake cookies for my friend in Kiev.”
“You have come all this way to bake cookies?” he asked.
I nodded. Then I showed him the recipe on the back of the bag. He confiscated one of the bags for “inspection.”
Deborah cried pretty much the whole first day we were there. Sergei hadn’t told her we were coming so the poor thing was in shock. Our first batch of cookies brought her around, and she stopped crying long enough to eat them while they were still warm. We had to coax her into the luxurious bubble bath we prepared on our second day, complete with vanilla-scented candles to sweeten the least lovely room in their small apartment. After that we made Deborah take a nap while Sue fixed way too much pasta, and I mopped the floors and did the laundry.
By the third day, Deborah was ready to go out laughing, and boy, did we! When we left, Deborah had a clean house, a freshened heart, and a new smile. Sergei actually cried when he dropped us off at the airport. He said we had given him back his wife.
After that the invitations started coming from places Sue and I had never heard of. One time, the answer to our prayers about whether to travel to a certain destination was clearly, No, don’t go this time. We still don’t know why. But all the other times the money has arrived shortly after the invitation, and off we would go.
The most unique way the funds have arrived so far was when I walked into an appliance store and an alarm system went off. It turned out I was customer number ten thousand, and the prize was a double-wide refrigerator. How’s that for just showing up? I didn’t need a new refrigerator so I sold it to a friend at work, and that’s how we financed our
fifth Sisterchicks Hospitality Trip. That one was to Indonesia.
By that trip, Sue and I had a fairly good idea of what to take and what to do once we arrived. We listen to the women and tease them like we’re already close friends. We read to their children and watch over their little flock so the women can steal a few hours of solitude or with their husbands. We laugh aloud. A lot.
I love it when they let me wrap my motherly arms around them and pray for them. I whisper in their ear, “Grace on you,” and they always cry.
Sue and I make sure we read psalms to them every morning. On our last night, we take them aside with a pan of water and a towel. We kneel down and wash their feet. With a wonderful sigh, we tell these warrior women that what they are doing in serving the Lord has not gone unnoticed.
Then we cry happy tears all the way home.
Sue likes to tell people that we’re couriers. We cross all kinds of borders to smuggle in goodness and mercy. And usually some form of chocolate.
My sister-in-law is a different woman from the nail-biting person who went to Venezia with me. Sue is a free woman. Jack is so proud of her. I am, too. Even when I watched her drawl all over herself in nine different countries.
I am a free woman as well. My past didn’t disqualify me for this. If anything, after all the stories I’ve listened to, I would say my experiences prepared me for what I do.
And what exactly do I do? It’s so simple that I almost missed it. I go where Jesus asks me to go and I feed His lambs.
Hello, dear Sisterchick!
One of my greatest delights in writing the Sisterchick novels has been the journeys I’ve taken around the world while researching the location of each book. (I know, what a writer’s dream!) If I could take you with me on these adventures, oh, what a time we would have! Since that’s not possible, I thought you might enjoy seeing a few snapshots and hearing a few of the stories behind the story for
Sisterchicks in Gondolas!
My first visit to this enchanting city was as a college student. My girlfriends and I arrived with our backpacks and trudged up and down the narrow passageways to the youth hostel. The ambiance captured our imaginations during our short visit, and I secretly wished to return one day. That wish came true in 2006. This time, I was determined
to take a ride in one of the gondolas since that luxury was beyond my means during my first visit. My daughter, a college student at the time, was with me on this adventure. In her sweet innocence she decided to find the perfect gondolier for our long-anticipated float down the canals. She approached one suave gondolier who stood ready. “Will you sing to us during our ride?” she asked. His response was, “Bella donna, there are two types of gondoliers: those who sing and those who make love. I do not sing.” I grabbed my wide-eyed daughter by the arm, and we kept on going until we found the perfect gondolier for us. The mellow canal ride that evening was one of the highlights of our Sisterchicks adventure in beautiful Venice!
Robin and the suave gondolier
San Marco Square in Venice is known for all the fat and friendly pigeons that make themselves at home on and around anyone who offers them a handful of seed purchased from the nearby vending carts. While many visitors find the tame and often aggressive birds to be disgusting or even frightening, I loved them! All I had to do was hold out my arms and the birds flew to me, ate from my hand, and staged a food fight with other incoming pigeons. One bird crawled up on my shoulder and stuck with me like a cartoon of a parrot riding around on the shoulder of a peg-leg pirate. I mean, seriously. Where else in the world can you beckon the birds of the air to come to you for the price of a one-Euro bag of corn? On my Web site I have a short video posted of our encounter with the pigeons of Venice. You can see the “Polly” on my shoulder as well as the one that landed on my head and tried to pick the rhinestones from my sunglasses. Good fun! Come have a peek:
www.robingunn.com
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Robin and the San Marco pigeons