The Second Leap

Four years passed.

Australia had become a home of sorts.

He found work.

Made friends.

Built a life.

Yet one decision made years earlier was quietly catching up with him.

He had arrived on a visitor’s visa.

He had stayed beyond its expiration.

Eventually there came a day when he decided to stop running.

He walked into the immigration office and told them the truth.

His passport was taken.

For the next nine days he reported to the office each morning while arrangements were made for him to leave the country.

Returning to England still didn’t feel right.

It wasn’t even a question.

So he bought a ticket to the nearest country.

New Zealand.

A few days before his flight he sold his ageing Volkswagen Kombi and his mechanic’s tools.

Together they raised just enough money for the journey and a small emergency fund.

When the day finally arrived, an immigration officer handed back his passport.

Once again he was stepping into the unknown.

This time he was alone.

But something had changed.

Four years earlier he had hoped life might somehow work out.

Now he suspected that, somehow…

…it usually did.

On the flight to New Zealand he struck up a conversation with a young Canadian woman.

When they landed they celebrated with an afternoon beer.

One beer became several.

Several became an evening.

By the time they said goodbye, most of his emergency money had disappeared.

It wasn’t exactly the fresh start he had imagined.

With barely enough money for even one night in a hotel, and nowhere to stay, he eventually found a youth hostel.

After hearing his story, the owner saw the funny side and offered him a bed for a week.

It was another unexpected kindness.

The next morning he walked the streets looking for work.

The first mechanic’s workshop he found needed someone.

There was only one problem.

He had sold his tools to pay for the journey.

A mechanic without tools isn’t much use to anyone.

The owner thought for a moment.

“Wait.”

“My son has a set of tools.”

He picked up the phone.

A few minutes later he smiled.

“You can borrow them until you can afford your own.”

Just like that…

…another door opened.

Life slowly settled into a rhythm again.

He found a place to live.

Made new friends.

Built another life.

The pattern was becoming difficult to ignore.

Whenever he stepped willingly into the unknown…

…someone seemed to appear.

Not with all the answers.

Just enough help for the next step.

And somehow…

…the next step was always enough.