I sat in my window seat on an early morning flight from Atlanta to Miami for my college reunion, deep in thought.
But I wasn’t thinking about the classmates I’d see shortly. I stared at the rose and orange-tinted clouds on the horizon and the bright morning star in the distance, and thought about my friend Javier, whom I’d spent my childhood with in Cuba. I’d escaped with my family to the United States and had been able to live a free life. But Javier wasn’t so fortunate.
Javier had been arrested for rebelling against Fidel Castro’s Communist regime. The last time I saw him, he was in a hospital prison ward, wounded and not able to walk. I didn’t know when, if ever, he would be released. I wished I could see him again, if only to comfort him, and give him hope that one day he’d be free like I was.
It was 6:30 in the morning here, same as it was in Cuba. Maybe Javier could see that same gorgeous sky, that same shining star. I closed my eyes and prayed for him. Lord, let Javier see this sunrise and lift his spirits.
Two months later, I checked my mail and was surprised to find a letter with a familiar name atop the return address. Javier! I quickly tore the envelope open.
“Dear Gilda,” the letter read. “It is 6:30 in the morning. I was dreaming you had come to visit me in prison. We chatted and had a good time, when I unfortunately woke up. But right now I am looking out my cell window, and there is a beautiful shining star over a dark sky, and the morning begins to show in orange reflections on the horizon. I wish you could see it!”
Only then did I look at the date on the letter. Mail to and from Cuba always takes much longer than usual, and even longer if it comes from a prison. Sure enough, it was the date I flew to Miami.
Somehow, Javier had felt my prayers. He was eventually released, after 16 years. With his wife and three children, he finally made it to the States, and freedom.
