TWO INVITATIONSEsther Knott— March 21, 2013
It was a beautiful day and it was my first trip to New York City. It was a quick trip—just fly in, give my speech at the Waldorf Astoria, and fly back home. No luggage—I boarded the plane with such freedom. All I had in hand were the notes for my speech and my driver’s license for airport identification. No purse—nothing.
Upon landing I was met by a driver who asked about my luggage. I proudly showed him that my luggage was what I had in my hands—note cards. He laughed at my ability to travel light and then took me to the famous grand hotel.
There I was greeted by the woman who had invited me to speak. We had not met before but I knew she would be a very nice woman because when she phoned to invite me to speak (to young men and women who were “coming of age”) she even volunteered information about the color scheme, thinking that I might want to know in order to choose my “dress”—as she put it. At the time I thought that receiving such information was a bit odd. I had been planning to wear a conservative suit, but since she mentioned a color and a dress, I thought maybe the suit was too formal so I carefully selected a dress from my closet that I thought would travel well and blend in with the color scheme.
My hostess graciously showed me around. The setting was like going to a ball. The young women were all dressed in white like brides, the sponsoring women looked like bridesmaids—beautifully matching the color scheme, and the young male escorts were all wearing tuxedos. It was a swirl of color, motion, and excitement as people were getting ready for the grand celebration.
Then came the second invitation. “Where’s your suitcase? You’ll want to change. I invite you to change in here.