Who I Am

I feel like so much of my life has been made up of defining moments. Each moment brought a lesson that taught me more about who I am or what I want to be like.

Illustration by Marie Lundgren

I remember precisely when I realized that Santa Claus wasn't real. I was five or six. Christmas morning came and I was so eager to find out if Santa had brought the dollhouse I had so desperately wanted. There was a big package under the tree and when it was handed to me I read the tag: To Marie - From Santa. Then I looked at it again ... the tag was exactly the same as those on the gifts from my Mom. I knew the secret right then and there and I felt bad. A bit of my innocence flew away but I didn't want my Mom to know that I'd found her out. It seemed to me like I would be letting her down by revealing that I knew; like some of her joy would disappear. So I never told. I learned that day that magic is in your heart and the cold, hard truth doesn't have to take its place. You can know the truth and still believe, and that's what I choose to do even today.

When I was about ten years old I was shopping in a department store with my Mom. I had found some type of pencil that I just had to have. I'm pretty sure it had a teddy bear shaped eraser on it that I couldn't live without. I had some money in my pocket and I was set on buying it. My Mom waited by the door as I stood in the check-out line. When it was my turn I put the pencil on the counter along with the change in my pocket. It turned out I didn't have enough money -- I was ten whole cents short. I was crushed. I must have looked it, too, as I told the cashier that I was sorry but I would have to put the pencil back, because the woman in line behind me pulled out a dime and told me she would cover the cost. I remember being totally floored. I couldn't believe that someone who didn't even know me would be willing to give her hard-earned money to me. To me the amount of it didn't matter, it was her generous spirit that shone through. I come from a generous family as well so I wasn't a stranger to the idea of sharing and charity, but it was the first time it had been bestowed upon me and it stuck like glue. Every time I am involved in an act of charity I remember that woman, whoever she was, and thank her.

The first time I traveled to Europe I was twenty-seven years old. I traveled alone to stay with people I had never met before while working as an au-pair. The day before I left, my travel agent phoned and said she had changed my flights around. There was no particular reason other than she had found a shorter lay-over for me. That sounded good to me! The next day, September 2, 1998, I said my goodbyes and boarded the plane from Oregon to Switzerland with two stops in between. I had slept during much of the transatlantic flight and when we landed in Germany the woman sitting next to me asked if I had heard the news. I said no and she explained that flight 111 from New York to Switzerland had crashed with no survivors. I got goosebumps and my skin went cold. Previous to the changes by my travel agent I had been booked on that flight. It was my first hard-core experience with fate and it held fast in my brain. For the first time I really believed that there must be a purpose for me being here, and that it's my job to search until I discover that purpose and then pursue it with all my heart. I'm not sure if I've found it yet, but I never forget the search and I put my heart into anything that feels right; that way whenever my time is up I'll know that my life wasn't lived in vain.

There are so many other memorable moments that together have made me who I am. They are too numerous to list and the details of some have gotten fuzzy around the edges. It doesn't matter, though -- there will be more to come that will leave their mark on my conscience and give me more stories to tell.