Elena was exhausted when she checked into the airport lounge at MIA international. There had been multiple delays and a mix up with the luggage, she was grateful she just had her carry-on. Even so she had missed her connecting flight to SJO.

The concierge smiled at her with genuine warmth as Elena presented her voucher the airline had given her.

The seating area in the lounge was packed with people from the flight she had just been on. Children were playing and their adults were fussing.... She just needed to lay down for a spell. Elena wandered through the lounge and found some empty work cubicles in a quiet corner. She stowed her travel bag under the desk, lay down beside it and dozed.

Her eyes fluttered open. She saw the underside of the desk and recalled where she was. Elena yawned and stretched herself alive once more. Her vision cleared, and she saw a small package taped to the underside of the desk. She had seen it laying down too, but had been too tired to notice. Now she considered it.

Curiosity flared within her. What was this? Some mysterious package in an airport? Drugs? Money? It was about the size of a book

She looked a little closer... It was definitely the shape of a small book in a manila folder. Under the clear tape she saw a word written in an elegant hand, it simply said "invitation"

That was all she needed to make up her mind, carefully she pulled the packet free from the underside of the table. The other side of the manila envelope said "OPEN"

Elena opened the envelope and drew out the small black book... It looked like some kind of journal.

She opened the first page

"Come to Marrakesh.

Look for my friend who sells tea in the market there. His name is Issam. Show him this book, he will know how to find me. -A"

Tucked into the book was a picture of a Moroccan man seated at a small table.  And behind the picture were eight one-hundred dollar bills.

Elena just sat there holding this package. Her mind was reeling - so she didn't really take notice of the subtle shift she felt inside. While she thought about the details a strange and exciting dream had taken root in her heart.

Her new flight to Costa Rica was due to leave in 3 hours. Within an hour and a half she had canceled her flight to San Jose and booked a flight to Marrakesh.

Everything was relatively normal until she cleared customs and stepped into the Moroccan air. A wave of dry heat hit her body, and the sounds of the street rose with the temperature. Cabbies waited for passengers outside the airport like crocodiles. It was always like this in a new place, you had to learn the ropes and pay your dues. Until then you were fresh meat.

She felt fresh and alive. She didn't care if the cabbie overcharged her a bit. It was part of the price of the place itself, and the sooner she paid it the better.

Date palms and other exotic trees rose from boulevards in front of sand colored buildings and passed before her eyes as they made their way to the center of Marrakesh.

Elena thanked the cabbie after being dropped in front of a restaurant with WiFi and handed him a tip. The man smiled and handed her her backpack from the trunk. "Yalla inshallah!"

Before long she had eaten and booked a good deal at a hotel nearby for two nights. She checked in, showered and changed for the market. It was now 3pm, she would have an hour or two before the market closed for the day.

She walked from her hotel a short ways to the main market of Marrakesh. It was immense! The colours of street stalls fought with the smells of incense and fresh cooked meat for her attention. She heard French, Spanish, Italian, English, Arabic, and a couple of other languages she couldn't identify.

She walked, taking in the market with her senses. She felt like she was in a yoga class, with her mind wandering through her own daydream. She was a part of the cacophony of the market but apart from it, and her balance with it was immediate; she simply flowed through it, walking and stopping on impulse. She was in the flow of travel now, this is why she loved solo travel - this feeling, like riding a wave. It was often difficult to explain to people back home, but some people understood her.

Stolen story; please report.

All of a sudden she was back in reality. Someone bumped her shoulder. She turned around, now in the middle of everything, she had lost her bearings. Her flowstate had vanished like the end of a song. A merchant tugged at her sleeve. She brushed him off and walked towards a stall that had ornate rugs hanging from wooden dowels set in racks under a tent pavilion. There a man selling rugs addressed her in English "Shopping for a rug miss?"

"No." Elena said, "I'm looking for a man who sells tea at the market, but I got lost."

The man gave a belly laugh and wagged his finger, "Miss there are dozens, maybe hundreds of men selling tea at the market here."

Elena smiled back at him and showed him the picture, "I'm looking for this man, his name is Issam."

"Ach! I know this man. Come! I will have Adem take you to him. Adem!" A young teenager stepped out from adjusting some rugs that had gotten out of place. "Adem, take this young lady to Issam, the one who sells tea at the west gate.

Adem gave a lazy gesture to follow him "Yalla." Elena and Adem walked without much to say between them, until Adem delivered her to Issam who sold tea. He was older than in the picture, but definitely the same man.

His job done, Adem disappeared back into the throng. Elena stood before the man whose picture she held. Who a day before she had found in a little black book hidden in Miami international airport. His trimmed beard was all white now. How long ago had the picture been taken?... She remembered the hundreds in the book... They had been the old design, without the modern security features, she didn't think much of it at the time, but now... She took a step forward. "Issam!" She called, and he turned to face her.

"Salaam alaikum" Issam said in a clear voice. "You look American"

"Alaikum salaam" Elena said, "what gave me away?"

"I don't know... Maybe it's the way you said my name. What can I do for you?"

He seemed really present and kind, Elena felt she could speak with him directly. "I don't know how to say this... but, I found a book with your picture in it, and instructions and money to come to Marrakesh. So, here I am."

Issam's eyebrows shot up as his face registered surprise and then wonder. When he spoke it was in a low voice, "So she really did it then... May I see the picture?

This was taken more than 10 years ago, maybe 15... she was living here then... She stops by every year or two, and asks me if anyone has come to see me with my picture. I could never tell if she was teasing me or not. Now I can see that she really meant something by it.... She was always one of my favorite customers... Come. Let me pour you some tea, and we will pour our hearts out for each other."

Elena sat with Issam at the edge of the market in Marrakesh, and they told each other stories and drank tea and ate street food for hours, until it was past time to go home for the night. "Come. I will walk you to your hotel, it's after dark." Along the way some young man had catcalled her but Issam lit into him and sent him packing. He felt very fatherly.

A bit later she lay alone in bed in her hotel room and thought about what Issam had told her. Aida was a westerner who had lived in Marrakesh, but now she lived in Agadir half the year, and Spain the other half.. Grenada or Sevilla, he wasn't certain. And he wasn't sure of much more than that.

But Elena was sure, she had decided she would hunt down this trail that led to Aida, even if it was 15 years old. Aida kept asking Issam about it every year... so she must still have faith in the possibility.

Three months passed traveling and searching, in Marrakesh, in Agadir, in Sevilla, and finally in Grenada. Elena had enjoyed tea with Issam in Marrakesh, ran from bad men in Agadir, been held up at the border trying to enter Spain by boat, and found a few dead ends in both countries, until one day she found herself in Grenada approaching a beautiful hacienda.

Soon she was sitting and talking with Aida, the stranger who had reached through time, and invited her to Marrakesh. On the veranda they regaled each other with tales of adventure. Eventually Elena asked "Aida, I'm so glad you did, but why did you leave that book there in Miami?"

Aida answered, "When I was young I used to travel a bit myself you know. I didn't care if someone saw me laying in the shade of a tree on the side of the road, because I was too tired to care.

I wanted to meet someone interesting, someone who would lay under a table and take a chance on a little black book.

I didn't know it would take 17 years, but I'm glad it did. I've been blessed with money and wealth in this life. But more than that, I've been blessed with knowing how to use money to do something meaningful. I wanted to give an invitation, and to have it be accepted. I wanted to touch that person's destiny, if they would allow me to by accepting my invitation. I am so grateful to you Elena, you are so full of life and adventure, you have fulfilled my dream. Stay here at the hacienda for a time and be my guest."

Elena stayed for a week and they enjoyed each other's company, until Elena felt the wider world tugging at her sleeve once again. That night over tea she told Aida that she would have to leave the next day.

The next morning Elena saw a little black book sitting on top of her backpack. A bookmark stuck out and she opened it to the page, it was written in the same hand ~

"My dear Elena, thank you so much for finding my message in a bottle - I'm so proud of you for finding me! Here is a gift for you adventurer. Please come and visit here anytime. Even if I'm gone you are welcome, I've told Rosa and her family you might turn up so don't be a stranger, because now we are friends. :-)

Elena felt a swell of gratitude for Aida, who had set this all in motion with her dream from 15 years ago, of using her wealth to touch someone's heart. She closed her eyes for a moment and closed the book in her hands.

After a minute's stillness her eyes flickered open and came to rest on the bookmark, which had fallen to the floor. Her hand reached for it.

Elena was holding a check written out to her from an American bank account. The memo read - I'm so proud of you for finding me. When you can, pay it forward. Besos, -Aida.