(387) The Detour......was Meant to be!

I once heard a travel enthusiast share this story:  “I was supposed to visit Place A, but after one unexpected twist after another, I ended up going to Place B instead. All the research I had done for days went to waste—yet somehow, it turned into an unforgettable journey.”  I always wondered: could such a thing really happen?  Well, never say never.  On our final day in Kaunas, Lithuania, Charles and I experienced exactly that—courtesy of God’s own arrangement.

 Charles said, “The exhibition has come to a successful close. Let’s celebrate by visiting a local attraction.”  As always, being utterly devoted to my master, I naturally nodded in agreement.

Without further ado, he searched online and found a medieval historic site—complete with city walls, fortifications and defensive tunnels. I still remember how the sun smiled upon us throughout the journey.  Charles glanced at the navigation and laughed. “The round trip could easily take four hours. Are you OK?”  I nodded again.  I’ve always believed that while the body and spirit are still young and the feet still nimble, we should walk as much as we can!

When we finally arrived, something felt strange. There was hardly a soul around.  We walked up toward the hill and reached the old walls. But why were they so wildly overgrown with weeds?  Just as the question marks in my head were piling up, a man appeared in the distance and asked what we were doing there.  Charles replied, “We’re here to see the historic site.”  He explained, “This place was sold to a private organization four years ago. You’re not allowed in without special permission.”  Oops!  So the website simply hadn’t been updated.  We had been misled—and had walked all that way for nothing. 

Charles frowned.  I immediately comforted him: “Never mind. This little town has such an old-world charm. Wandering around aimlessly is lovely too.”  And so, the two of us began wandering with absolutely no destination in mind.  Whenever we spotted a yellow house or an unusual wall, we would stop for a few photos. We wandered and drifted until, suddenly, I stopped in front of a private residence.  “Wow! Look at those birch trees. They’re beautiful!”

Before Charles could even respond, I had already hopped over to the birch tree, gently touching its trunk and saying hello.

“Private property. Please don’t wander into people’s homes,” Charles warned.  “The gate is open!” I protested. “And yes, why is the door open? What exactly is this place?”  He replied rather helplessly, “Miss, this is my first time here too. You ask me—who am I supposed to ask?”

Only then did we notice an information plaque beside the entrance.  It read:

The Former Residence and Museum of Juozas Grušas, a Nationally Celebrated Lithuanian Writer.

Charles murmured, “I remember the travel guide mentioning this famous writer’s home. So this is where it is!”  I was over the moon.  I immediately rang the bell.  Before long, a guide opened the door, and we eagerly slipped inside to hear the story.  The moment I entered, I was deeply drawn to the quiet, almost magnetic atmosphere.  Our guide warmly explained, “This is the desk where the great writer did his writing. Those operas that were hugely popular in his time were all written by him. He was so beloved by the Lithuanian people that his former home has been preserved as a national cultural heritage site.”

My heart quietly responded: “I love writing. Perhaps that’s why some invisible hand somehow led me here. Although this house carries such a long history, the atmosphere of writing—and this profound stillness—feels so familiar. So very familiar. It is almost as if, somewhere in the unseen, I can still feel the writer’s love for putting pen to paper.”

She then took us through the dining room, living room, bedroom and other parts of the house, explaining everything in detail.  “This television was quite a fashionable gadget in its day. You had to press buttons manually to adjust the red, green and blue colors on the screen.  And look at this ingenious furnace. You put the firewood in from this side, and the whole house would quickly warm up. The compartment above was almost like a modern microwave—it was used to warm up food!”  The more enthusiastically she explained, the more excited I became, firing off questions one after another.

Eventually, when she couldn’t answer one of them, she jokingly said, “I wasn’t around in that era either. I only know what has been passed down by those who came after him.”  Charles immediately jumped in: “She just happens to love writing, so she’s endlessly curious. Please don’t mind her!”  The guide laughed.  “Not at all! It’s wonderful that you’re so interested and keep asking questions. My afternoons here are usually so quiet. It’s lovely to have someone to chat with!”

It turned out that she had been stationed there for more than two years. With relatively few visitors during quiet periods, she was delighted to have two people who were genuinely interested and happy to chat.  Her heart bloomed with joy.  And naturally, you guessed it—we simply had to take a photo together.  Click.  The shutter sounded, and something clicked inside my heart too.

I suddenly understood.  We hadn’t been meant to visit that historic site at all.  The whole detour had simply been paving the way for us to discover this writer’s former home.  Ah…So this was the real destination all along.  We had experienced it for ourselves:

You set out for Place A, only to be unexpectedly led to Place B.  And this God-sent surprise?  Absolutely brilliant. Simply a stroke of genius!