I worked at a greenhouse for a summer. It was a bunch of women that worked there, all different backgrounds and ages. One girl named Chelsea trained me. She had epilepsy. It started in high school, out of the blue, and once it started she had seizures almost daily for the next several years. I met her when she had been seizure-free for almost a year, having finally found some drugs that were effective with her particular ailment. She had just finished an undergrad, and from what I could piece together had just come out of a several year long relationship. She mentioned the ex a lot. It seemed they had stayed friends, which hadn't really worked, and she was pretty hurt by it. She was only 25, but I think she felt pressure being back in her parents house, working the job she'd done every summer through school and single to boot. Because of the epilepsy she couldn't get her license, couldn't even really ride a bike.
We got to know each other and I was proud to call her a friend. I made her a dress. She was one of my first paying clients. At our job we had to work every fourth Sunday packing herbs. There were some Mexican migrant workers who joined us on weekends, and among them two Irish men. (When the migrant workers first started we were told that none of them spoke English so we shouldn't talk to them. Imagine our surprise when we finally heard the two Irish guys speaking in their thick brogues. [the Mexicans spoke English fine for the record.]) So on one of these Sundays we were packing away, the two of us and the two Irish at a table, and to entertain I started telling a story. It was about David (one of the Irish guys) moving to New Zealand and meeting a down-on-her-luck farmer's daughter. She had golden ringlets and a very sad back story, but they fell in love and married. Chelsea told me later that they had all thought it was so obvious she was the girl in the story. It hadn't been intentional. Shortly afterwards Dave got the courage to ask her out. Their relationship was sweet and like a storybook. It was just what she needed to get over the ex. David was a precious guy. I never knew him too well, but I heard tidbits about how he cared for her, worried about her health, came by when she was ill just to be with her.
I lost touch after the summer we worked together. We would check in from time to time, but without that job we didn't have a lot in common. The last I heard she was going to Ireland with David to meet his family. I wouldn't be surprised if they were married by now.

I was just thinking about her today. I sometimes remember these amazing women, and some men, that have been in my life for a season. There are some incredible people I've had the blessing of crossing paths with. They've opened my eyes, educated me, humbled me, helped me mature. A girl at my current job just asked me the other day how I know people in so many countries. I said it just happens when you grow up. I said one day you'll be talking about the girl you know in some other country, and you'll be talking about me.