She stepped off the plane in her tropical print pants and black top. The weather was drier than she expected despite the rain. She had lined up a lei greeting for them and expected magic to start to unfold.

The leis they received were beautiful, but the greeting was far from Fhloston Paradise. Her heart sunk a little. But she was tired after the cross country plus cross ocean flights. Maybe tomorrow would reveal the true beauty of the island.

Their accommodations were beautiful. The resort was well manicured with all things tropical. The ocean was in view from their balcony. Many mornings however came slow, her eyes often open at 3:30 am with no sleep in sight.

Perhaps it was exhaustion, but the next few days were a blur of sleep and food and sites, but still no spark of excitement. It was vacation, perhaps her mind and body needed more of a break than she thought.

There were highlights and fun times at a luau, driving the Road to Hana, even touring a ranch on ATVs, however inspiration escaped her. She forced herself to write in a journal, but instead of spinning delightful ditties about adventures, it became lists and rundowns of each day.

It wasn’t until the very last day that something magical would actually happen.

They walked in to a little cafe tucked into an office building for lunch. The menu was limited but they only wanted a lite bite as they were headed out on a flight later in the evening. It seemed to be another basic experience, but that had become the norm.

As they placed their order, in the background, a group of older folks started strumming on ukeleles and singing old timey Hawaiian songs. It easily could have become cheesy, but they decided to stay and hear the music at the owner’s encouragement. After they settled in, two young women came in to also order lunch.

The owner started gushing over the women. Turned out one of them was a local pageant contestant. The girls finished placing their order then the owner talked them into joining the group in the back.

The music quieted as the elders and the young people talked. A few minutes later, the two women stood in front of the musicians and struck a pose to start dancing the hula. The musicians began to play.

She got a chill as she turned to watch. The gentle movements of the girls complemented the music. The spontaneity of the moment filled the cafe. She felt as if she were peering in on a secret being revealed.

The dancers and musicians wove an enchanting story in those moments. The strumming was rhythmic. The smiles of the troupe became infectious as the performance peaked. The hula was entrancing.

Paradise’s magic was found in that little cafe that final afternoon. She finally felt her trip was complete.