These seven words were spoken to me at 11:00 at night. I had just corralled my children into the stroller, double checked backpacks and headed towards the terminal, nearly done with my trip. My freaking – awful – trip.
I recognized the young man; not the sweet smile that accompanied the praise, but the back of his head was definitely familiar since he sat in front of me during the two-hour flight. I’m sure he heard me trying to distract my exhausted four-year-old with conversations about airplanes, city lights, and clouds. After twelve hours of traveling no device was working and he was one Cheerio spill away from a meltdown.
Had this young man been there during the layover between flights, where we had to wait in line for 30 minutes to go through security for a second time?! (Shoeless metal detectors and all.)
He must have noticed me at the gate where I sat in the farthest corner possible and let my delirious 5-year-old, 4-year-old and 2-year-old run circles around the chairs; strangers quietly gathered their things to slip away - but it was too late - and I was too tired to care.
I don’t know if this young man was on my first flight, where I spent 4.5 hours keeping my younger kids in line while my oldest sat across the aisle proudly entertaining herself. Had he noticed my anxiety as I scanned nearby passengers praying they wouldn’t watch something inappropriate where my daughter could see?
Had he noticed the snotty flight attendant who reminded my kids to put their masks up every - time she walked by? Or when I took my 5-year-old to the bathroom, and in the minute I was gone my boys decided that would be a good time to fist fight? Thank goodness snotty flight attendant was quick to snap at me and get my attention.
I seriously doubt the young man was there 14 hours earlier across the country when I got into a loud spat with a gate agent. I was trying to check my luggage and she callously refused to service me because my two-year-old thought it was funny to play slingshot with his mask. I understand the airline has rules, which she was quick to remind me of, but what she seemed to miss was the two-year-old siting in the front of a double stroller; back seat loaded-up with one car seat and two boosters. I pushed the stroller with one hand and dragged my 50-pound suitcase with the other. My four-year-old was pushing a suitcase equal his size while my five-year-old’s only job was to make sure neither of her brothers escaped.
To think of it, this young man definitely was not one of the passengers behind me. Each time my son flung his mask and we were refused service, the agent called for the next person in line and several, several, moved right passed me without so much as a glance to check-in. Meanwhile I’m trying to locate the missing mask, keep an eye on my kids who are literally running circles around our mountain of stuff (including me), and trying not to go full-blown Andy Bernard on this lady. I bet this young man would have offered a hand when nobody else did.
And as terrible as the start of my trip was, it didn’t compare to why I made the trip in the first place. 15 days earlier my family hopped on a flight to say goodbye and plan the funeral for my father. He had suffered a severe stroke and for days we were on edge. Thankfully we did not have to plan a funeral, but for two weeks I spent every waking hour rotating between hospital visits, phone calls trying to settle his affairs, and vigorously preparing my parents’ home of 32 years to sell - since it was clear he wouldn’t be returning.
I kissed my dad, for what I assumed would be the last time. And hugged my fragile mother who was desperately trying to manage her new life. I was emotionally drained. And physically exhausted.
So when this young man saw a tired mom trying to hold it together on the flight, he had no idea just how mangled she really was.
When he turned around on the boarding bridge and said those seven words, he didn’t know what they would mean to me.
Nor could he grasp how perfect the timing was of that sincere smile.
…..He was just trying to be kind.
So friends...
Please be like this young man.
Look up from the screens.
Look around.
And reach out in love to those nearby.
You have no idea the shoes they walk in.
And you’ll never know the impact you make.
Reach out anyways….the world needs it.
(And a reminder to all the mothers out there: Thanks for being a mom. You are awesome.)
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