Dawn Berkoski

Two steps. Just two steps. Open the door and walk through. Easier said than done. The future I dreamed of was gone but still woven deep into my heart. Beloved, as all the best dreams are, and sorely missed. I didn’t want to dream again. I dare not start.

For a long time, I didn’t see anything. And if I did, a soul-crushing voice said, “Slide the bolt. Something worse lurks out there.”

And then a friend invited me to Porto. I packed my suitcase and went.

Suddenly green doors appeared, rising like daffodil shoots after a harsh winter. The voice remained, haunting my steps, casting doubt, keeping me trapped in disillusionment and fear. I didn’t trust the doors, and yet, every time I saw one, a petal of hope unfurled.

“What if something good waits on the other side?” the green doors said. “What if? What if? What if?”

And suddenly I was searching for the green doors, the What Ifs. I was running up hills, weaving through alleyways, skipping down sidewalks and underneath bridges. I passed through a green door without even knowing.

A bright canvas full of color and possibilities. That’s what I thought of the Historic Centre in Porto. I took in giant gulps of air, fascinated by the UNESCO World Heritage Site.

Romantic architecture, polished azulejos tiles, whimsical street art, moving monuments to writers and freedom fighters. Even the food stalls at the famous Bolhão Market felt special and vibrant.

There! Look there! Is that a pocketbook made from a dial-up phone? Is that a shop that sells handmade brooms? Wait. Is that a cow on a balcony? My mind whirled. Art popped up like a jack-in-the-box, delighting me at every turn. Of course I had to see the famous São Bento Railway Station. I had to see it all. I had to see everything.

The city was alive!

And so was I.

Dawn B~