It started with a glove...

"Every second of every day you're faced with a decision that can change your life” (from the movie 'Run Lola run')

It was early December. The whole country was in chaos. It had been snowing for days and it was extremely cold. Many people intended to move across the country that Saturday. It was the weekend of Sinterklaas, while for others this weekend was important because of an important football (soccer) match in Amsterdam.

I was only a few days in Amsterdam. I wanted to go to Oss, I had not seen my family in quite a long time. Warmly dressed with shawl, snow boots and gloves I walked to the tram stop through snow covered streets that looked like a black-and-white photographs. While waiting at the deserted tram stop some colour appeared on the bridge. Two ‘zwarte pieten’ presented a stunning visual effect which I wanted to document. I took my camera out of the bag and removed one glove to take a photo.

A hunched middle aged man appeared out of no-where.
"Are you looking for a black glove?" he asked.
I was not aware that I was missing a glove, but, indeed, I only had the one glove that was on my hand. I must have dropped the other. But there was no glove on the ground!
“Did you see the glove?" I asked the man. "Where is it?”
The man started to walk in circles on the sidewalk next to the tram stop, looking at the ground. I asked him again. He did not answer... It was so silly, how would you not see a black glove in the white snow?

A tram turned up and the man hurriedly jumped on the tram. I was puzzled and could not make sense of the situation. Had he taken the glove? What would he do with ONE glove? Completely confused I started to walk in the direction from where I had come, all the way back home. And again back to the tram stop. Of course no glove to be found... but it was so bizarre that I kept looking.

It must have been at least half an hour later when I finally boarded a tram..... But five minutes later the tram stopped in the middle of the road. People remained patiently on board – at least it was warm inside - until some time later it was announced that people should leave the tram.... Outside there was a long row of trams, like the wagons of a train, motionless stuck in the snow.....

I arrived by foot at the train station where in the previous two hours no train had been able to move in the direction that I wanted to go. The platforms were crowded, people with bags full of presents in coloured wrapping paper. I called my sister Pia saying I was delayed. She said I should not come if it is such a hassle, but I replied I would find a way to get to Oss, no matter what. I boarded a train that according to the signboard would go somehow in the right direction though it would involve more changes than needed. Soon it became clear this train would not leave the platform. I descended, walked to another platform where, lucky me, another train actually was about to leave after it had been standing there for almost two hours, this time in - for me - exactly the right direction!

So I got reasonably fast to Oss after all, during the last section of the train journey joined by a group of frustrated football fans who never made it to their match in Amsterdam and who now were returning home. Pia waited at the train station in Oss and we drove to my mother and Henk’s place. I told the story of the glove and asked Pia to join me to the nearest department store to buy a new pair. She protested: I had only just arrived! But it was almost closing time; the next day the shops would not be open and it was too cold to be without.

Together we went. It took me some time to make my choice between a red and a black pair, and as thanks for her patience I bought Pia also a pair. The line of people at the cashier was long. Finally we headed to the swinging glass doors to leave the store. Pia held the door open for two men who were behind us with bags full of toys.

“Hey we should have done that instead of you!” the younger of the two said.
They older chipped in “She is worth it.”
Whereupon Pia looked at the young man and responded “That is mutual!” She added “I’d better be candid about it because it is not written on my forehead that I am available.”
“Is he available?” Pia addressed the older man who evidently was the father of the young man.
“Actually, yes, since recently,” the father replied.
“We should have a drink together, one day,” said the young man to Pia.
“Good idea, let’s swap phone numbers before we forget”, said Pia while taking out her cell phone. And that was how it all started.....

It is really a little miracle. Pia, divorced since 17 years, had not been lucky in love in all those years. Now six weeks after they met, the two have been together almost daily. They are madly in love. And every time when they pass the swinging doors of the department store they kiss, because for them that's how it started.

To come back to Lola’s theme above: Did it happen because of the clumsy swinging doors? Or was it because of the hunched guy who probably nicked my glove? Was it my persistence to find the glove? Or to buy a new pair on that same day? Or was it my decision to take a photo of the 'zwarte pieten' in the snow; to not be put off by the public transport chaos; or the queue before the cashier, or any of the other things?

From my point of view it all started with the mysterious disappearance of a cherished black suede glove. If you believe - like I do - that everything is for a reason, you know that it is sometimes hard to see that reason. Not in this case. The very reason for the loss of my glove is now crystal clear to me. Though admittedly, without any of the other events this love story would not have happened...

PS. The next day I returned to Amsterdam. The snow had melted. I couldn’t help going back to the tram stop to look again for the glove. I found at least five wet and dirty gloves in the messy muddy snow within a 25 meter radius of where mine had disappeared. Needless to say, my glove was of course not among them ....